summary: On his last night home in LA before becoming a field agent, Chuck finds himself begrudgingly dragged to a nightclub, all thanks to Morgan. But what he meets there, or rather, who he meets there, is about to change his life, and his future spy career, in ways he can't possibly imagine. Partnered up, Chuck and Sarah have to navigate the spy life, missions, their memories of that fateful night, and a whole lot of feelings. AU.

a/n: Whew. Yup, it's a long one to bring this whole thing to a close. I'd debated splitting this chapter in two to make it less of one giant chunk of writing, but eleven is just such an uneven number… Plus, I really wanted to do all this justice, these decisions and thoughts that lie ahead for our favourites, how they justify it all, without cheating y'all out of those scenes, and sometimes, that takes a lot of words to get through. I'll ramble my thanks, etc, in the end note. For now, I hope you enjoy this last instalment and my take on how that big ole' computer could fit into the world of Chuck and Sarah in this universe.
disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, hotel rooms, fountains, ties, or plot twists.

no one can rewrite the stars

april through september

He gets the call a month into their little sabbatical, and though he's been expecting it for weeks now, the harsh ringing of his cell is still startling.
They're curled up in a hotel room in Paris, warm spring sun streaming through the curtains and bathing the space in a hazy yellow glow. Sarah's tucked into his side on the ridiculously comfy bed, wearing just his shirt and forever making his head spin, thumbing through a book while he similarly flips through the latest Justice League and wonders quite what he did to deserve this kind of serenity. If he hadn't been sure when they'd discussed it last week, this latest trip has cemented the idea for Chuck: he's not letting go of Sarah that easily. Graham's assignment could have thrills and tech and everything he'd want, but if it doesn't have Sarah, frankly, Chuck isn't interested.

"You should get that," Sarah murmurs, and he sighs.

"I know. I'm just, like, really comfortable right now."

When she grunts and shoves him off her, he gets the picture, and rises with a lazy slow stretch before heading over to the little desk in the corner of the room to pick up his flashing cell phone. He can see the Eiffel Tower just peeking out behind some buildings as he walks past the window, and he smiles unconsciously as he picks up the call, reveling in the simplicity of the world before his own world quite possibly turns to dust beneath his fingertips.

"Agent Carmichael?" comes a cheery voice, and he pulls back the cell to see the caller ID. It's Graham, but it's evidently his happy upbeat secretary as opposed to the man himself right now. The happiness is glaring compared to what Chuck is feeling right now, looming increasing apprehension, anxiety. Fear.
Because this is a big deal, he'd worked that out already.

Graham wanting Chuck for something is honestly completely unexpected. Save for LA, the ring base mission, being partnered Sarah, and the odd briefing or debriefing, Chuck's hardly even spoken to the man. Every time they have to report back, it's Sarah who makes the call, Sarah who chats with the man who'd recruited her, and frankly, Chuck's unhappiness with that recruitment forever singed into his mind- as has been ever since Sarah explained it in full not long after they became partners in another sense of the word-, he's been all too happy to let her. He's not sure he could handle a casual report with the man who recruited a high schooler to be a spy just because her Dad had been arrested, especially now Sarah's told him about it, now he knows the specifics. But he doesn't know Graham, frankly; apart from his strange words at the ring base, Chuck had no idea the Director even noticed him as anything but the guy who filed reports with Sarah. They're the top team, sure, but that doesn't mean Graham has any reason at all to just want him, Chuck, for something, and not Sarah too.
The only reason Chuck can think of that Graham would have for wanting him specifically for this mission, is that something is very wrong.

He clears his throat.
"Uh, yes? Secure."

"Director Graham wants to speak with you, I'll patch you through right now."
Absentmindedly, Chuck wonders if Graham's assistant is the same one he'd had in September, the handsome Devon-like man who'd ushered him through to the Director's office where Sarah was waiting, stunned. But really, Chuck has other concerns right now, more pressing ones, like his whole damn future.

There's a pause of dead static air, a click of a button, and then Graham pipes up.

"Agent Carmichael. I trust your vacation is going well."

Chuck resists the urge to roll his eyes at the instant false casualness of the Director. Like this is a simple chat, a normal exchange, not something significant, important, CIA business that concerns Chuck's very future.
"Um, yes Sir." he says, guarded, not falling into a relaxed persona like Graham.

Sarah looks up from her spot on the bed then, eyebrow raised in urgent questioning, and he just shrugs because she's truly still as clueless as he is. Despite their best efforts, they haven't been able to work out what the Intersect project actually is, and that's their main source of anxiety right now, Chuck's sure. Once they find out what he'd actually be doing, perhaps they'd feel a little better at being split up with no real warning.

"I'm sure Agent Walker had alerted you to my request a month ago, but I've allowed you some time off before calling again myself. I'll be honest with you, Carmichael, I want you for an assignment as soon as possible. It's top priority."

At that, Chuck's still as lost as to what this damn Intersect actually is, but he pulls up one of the plushy hotel chairs and takes a seat, waving a hand in Sarah's direction, because it's happening.
She catches on, of course, silently slipping over his way and sitting right next to him, not saying a word. He turns the cell volume up high, just loud enough for the director's words to hopefully travel across without the tell-tale echo of speakerphone clueing their boss in. Sarah needs to hear this too.

"She did, sir," he says, gearing himself up for the argument he knows he has to have. "And with all due respect, I'm happiest working in the field with Agent Walker-"

"With all due respect, Agent, this assignment is more important than your happiness." Chuck gulps. Sarah, evidently having heard Graham's tone even across the tinny cell speakers, slips her hand into his briefly and sends him a calming look. "Carmichael, your recruitment was rather... unorthodox, was it not?"

A frown finds its way onto Chuck's forehead at the change of pace, and he scratches at his cheek.
"Yes... Yes, sir. I was recruited at Stanford, by Professor Fleming, but as an analyst. A, uh, a friend, another agent, protested my being recruited to the field, Fleming agreed with him."

He doesn't want to think about Bryce. They'd left things icy at best, Chuck mad at his friend for trying to stop his recruitment, Bryce mad at him in return for going through with it. He doesn't know now if Bryce is aware he made the transition to field agent after all- he hasn't even heard from him since that day at Stanford four and a half years ago, when Chuck caught him planting tests under his bed and they'd both burst into Fleming's office, and Chuck learnt spies weren't just on TV after all. All he knows about Bryce Larkin is some chatter about Russian deep cover, that's it.
Either way, if this conversation is straying into the territory of his former best friend, Chuck is sure it's about to get even more muddy than he'd thought.

"And yet here you are, one half of my best partnership."

"Correct, sir," Chuck says, feeling tired of this talk already. "I don't mean to be rude, but we both know all this already, Director."

He hears the shuffling of papers on Graham's end, the clearing of his throat.
"This Agent... Larkin, set you back years, Charles." At the use of his first name, Chuck recoils a little. Whatever Graham's offering, he's trying to get personal to do it. "The assignment you should have been recruited for at Stanford was a specialist project, you had the highest aptitude scores in your class and you were a perfect fit, but Larkin thought you wouldn't make it in the field. The promotion you got last year?"

"Uhm, yes?" Chuck wonders why he suddenly has a bad feeling about this.

"That wasn't by coincidence. We've been monitoring you since your recruitment, I paired you with Agent Walker to test your field capability. It seems Larkin and Fleming were wrong, Carmichael, you can survive in the field, and you're more than good at it. And now, we want to proceed with the original project that was derailed those years ago."

Sarah tugs on his wrist briefly, snapping him out of his thoughts before letting go, and he looks to her, eyes wide.
Everything Chuck thought he knew about how he came to work with her, every single thing, was a lie. He thought his analyst work had just been good, that he'd just been special enough to warrant a promotion. But no. His entire CIA career, all of it, has been to lead him here. To this project. And suddenly, so many things he'd questioned, all make sense. Being promoted with no real warning, no explanation, no specifics about who selected him for field work. Being rushed through training and partnered up with Sarah at the drop of a hat. Graham seeming to favor him so much, being pleased with his progress, telling him that. None of that is orthodox. But Chuck had just thought, hoped, it was because he was good at his job.

In reality, his future had been planned the moment Fleming had picked him out at Stanford. He just hadn't known it.

He's not really sure what to say at such a bombshell, but Graham has paused across the line, waiting for an answer, an acknowledgement. So Chuck plucks the first thing he can think of from thin air; something about Graham's wording is off.
"Who's we?"

"The CIA and the NSA," Graham says, like it's nothing at all. "This would be a joint op."

His jaw drops, as does Sarah's. This mysterious project that's mapped his career, is a joint operation with the NSA? He'd figured Graham would be calling about something important, but something of this scale is unprecedented.

The Director continues, still pitching this mission.
"Fleming was one of many people who worked on a particular project, a computer. It was called the Intersect. After 9/11, the NSA and CIA joined up to share intel via this computer, with the data encoded into images. Charles, just remind me, what was it that Fleming was recruiting you due to your excellent performance in?"

"His psychology and symbolism class. I aced the... coded images section."
It's like something clicks in his mind and just like that, everything makes sense.

Sarah turns to him, looking stunned, like she's made the connections too, and he desperately wants to hang up and talk this out with her but he can't, not with Graham being the one phoning, not the guy who doesn't know they're together, who can never really know. Whatever they'd been expecting, encoded images and top secret joint ops weren't anywhere on their list.

He swallows, tries to gulp down a breath, sort out the fuzzy pieces of information in his head into something clear, coherent.
"So, you want me to work on this computer, but... in the field? I don't quite understand."

Graham chuckles, but it's not warm and open. It's colder. More like he's amused he knows something here that Chuck doesn't.
"Not quite, Agent. See, the Intersect can do something else, and you're just about the only person with a brain strong enough to handle it. We haven't found anyone better in the years since Stanford, and the scientists don't think we ever will. Our hope is that, in time, you will be able to see all the intel the computer has, and retain the information. We'd maintain the physical database and use it for upgrades and testing other subjects, but you would be part of it too, out in the field."

Chuck blinks. He can't have heard that right.
"I'll- I'll be a... walking computer?" When he looks at her, Sarah looks cold, scared, and it's exactly how he feels too. This is terrifying. It sounds amazing, technologically speaking, he has to admit that, but it's terrifying. "How?"

"Well, I can't get into the particulars now, but after the next month of your vacation I expect you to return to DC and we can begin the process then. It'll take some time, without a subject the project was halted for years and the Intersect rooms were taken apart, but-"

"No."

It slips out before he's really thought about it, but he knows there and then that he needs to fight his case. He thought he'd been prepared but now, knowing just what this project will entail, oh, the stakes are so much higher.
Because if he accepts this, if he gets this computer in his head, he knows he'd be even more distanced from everything he loves than he is right now as a spy. Right now, he can email Ellie, if in secret, can be safe in the knowledge that he's protecting her through protecting the world. With this computer, he'd be, what, locked in a room, only to be let out just to be escorted through ops? This computer is top-secret, and to have him be a copy of it, out in the field, he'd be far too valuable, and very dangerous, and very sought-after. If anything went wrong, anything at all, there's a whole computer to replace him. Padded walls would likely be all he'd see, he supposes, he'd certainly never get to see Ellie again, let alone... Sarah. The idea of never seeing Sarah Walker ever again because of some stupid assignment is the most unsettling concept he's sure he can think of. If this had been a new partnership or post, he maybe could've taken not working with her. Not being able to see her at all, though, being a glorified asset, with a computer in his head and not having her there to watch his back, that's not something he can accept.

Maybe the assignment would do good, but right now, the losses simply outweigh the wins.

"Excuse me? Carmichael, this is an order-"

Graham's tone is furious, insistent, and Chuck swallows again.
"No, sir, that's... that's not what I mean. I-I mean, it is what I mean, but..." When Sarah's hand slips into his once more, and a calm easiness washes over him, Chuck knows he's making the right choice. And he finds the words he'd been planning to argue all along. "Sir, you're missing a pretty big point here. I'm half of your best partnership. Without Sarah, I'm... I'm nothing. You put me on this assignment, you give me your computer, and I can guarantee you that without Sarah there I'd be dead within a day."

"I..." Graham seems at a loss for words, and if the situation weren't so dark and confusing, Chuck would smirk at the development. "I understand your concern, Agent Carmichael, but we can find you someone else, I have other plans for Agent Walker-"

"Within a day." It's not some strange promise of death, just a hard fact. He really would. Not just due to Sarah's inability to protect him, but also that value he'd suddenly possess. The manifestation of all the government's secrets, out and about. "A human supercomputer would create quite a bounty, Director, I can do the math."

"Well, we could have Walker work with you, as protection." Graham suggests, but it's a useless suggestion the moment it's out his mouth, and from the way his words trail off, he seems to know that too.

"You're not gonna waste your best agent on a handler detail, sir. Even for a… top priority assignment like this."

There's a loud sigh across the line, and the rattling of more plastic and papers, and Chuck wonders if he pushed it too far. Sarah isn't sending him a warning look, though, just a somewhat anxious gaze as she taps the table, so she must think he was justified.
"I'll tell you what, Agent Carmichael," he huffs, and Chuck feels a premature sigh of relief build in his chest. "Finish your vacation, and in a month, you and Agent Walker report back here to me. We'll... work on this, and discuss it then." By his tone, Chuck thinks there's nothing the Director would like to do less. He forces a smile.

"Sure."
Chuck wonders if his voice sounds as tight and strained as it felt slipping out, choked in his throat.

With a final muttered goodbye, Graham hangs up, and Chuck breathes again.
He leans forward in his chair, dropping his cell to the table and holding his head in his hands and trying to breathe just breathe it out, but the world is spinning out of control all of a sudden and he'd thought things were so good, so safe so serene in this little bright Parisian hotel room with its fancy furnishings, Sarah by his side. Yeah, he'd expected some kind of change with this phone call but now, god, everything's been turned upside down so haphazardly, so suddenly, and he's got absolutely no idea what the future will entail, what's going to happen, and that sheer lack of knowledge, that's the scariest thing. He feels again like the green young agent sat in a quiet waiting area outside an office, about to step into the unknown future that ended up being the best thing to happen to his life. Sarah.

Here, in this room, her hands are on his shoulders, stroking and squeezing in tight reassurance, slipping to his neck, touch cold and soothing where his skin is flushed and hot from trying to cope. Her fingers run through the hair at the nape of his neck, curls there longer than they've ever been with her at her very insistence, twisting round his ears and the side of his head. He raises a hand to clasp one of her wrists, stroking his thumb against the smooth skin in reassurance.

"Sarah, if I had to do this-"

"You won't." Her voice is set, determined and clear unlike his, muffled from his hand still round his face. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, shakes his head.

"I might have to," he says, knowing they both know how true that is. This isn't something he can just refuse. "Orders."

"No, I'll make sure you won't, Chuck. They can't force you to do anything, if you take this assignment it'll be your choice."
God, he loves her certainty, the fervent fire in her tone, but he just knows what she's saying isn't completely sure, can't be. Orders are orders, after all. He takes a deep breath, feels it shudder in his chest.

"I don't want to leave you, Sarah,"

At that, she tugs on his hair, and he raises his head to see her eyes bright and shining and a little red-rimmed, a slow small smile on her lips.
"You'll never have to."

Because he wants to believe her, he decides, just for now, that he can. And so he nods a little, sends her a small smile, and leans in to kiss her, quick and determined and searching.
When he pulls back, she rests her head in the crook of his neck and just stays there, just breathing slow and easy for moment after moment until it stretches into long long minutes.

Some time later, he stands, pulling away from her only because he knows he must, has to clear his head, and walks away to the window, that warm spring sun still shining onto the Parisian streets. There's that glimpse once more, that slip of the Eiffel Tower just poking out behind the apartments opposite, glinting metal stark against the clear blue sky. Wonder fills him yet again, even as the awful sadness in his stomach still lingers. Sits, heavy. But he's still stunned he's here, finally, this place he's always loved, and dreamed of for so long. Sarah's thoughts of the city aren't so lovely, he knows, she's told him of her Red Test much like he'd told her of his. It was a long, low conversation, interrupted by tears, kisses, desperate clutches at each other. But he hopes that, to some extent, being here with him has maybe redefined Paris for her, just a little. Given her happier memories to counter the traumatic ones.

"Ellie would love this," he finds himself mumbling, the thought springing out from nowhere, some random memory of his awe of this place as a child, and a teen, and an adult.

Sarah slips in front of him suddenly, though he hadn't heard her move, and as she turns to look out the window too he slips his arms round her shoulders and pulls her back flush against his chest. She's warm and anchoring and reassuring and, as ever, all he needs. He doesn't want to think about that uncertain future, about computers in people's minds and government secrets and the price he could fetch. He just wants to be here, with Sarah, in this perfect little bubble, for as long as he possibly can.

"Mm?"

He smiles, nods.
"Yeah. God, if she knew I were here without her, she'd-" He cuts himself off suddenly, thought springing to mind. "We should go see her."

Sarah tenses, stays standing where she is but turns her head to look up at him in surprise.
"What?"

"Ellie, and Devon. We could go see them some time before we have to go back to DC," Though he says it as a casual idea, the moment the words leave his mouth he finds he suddenly wants them to be real, something they could do. Something he needs. "We haven't planned anything for this next month, we could visit LA."

"Oh." Blinking, she seems to mull it over, like she hadn't thought about that before. Eventually, she eyes him, gaze searching his own. "You know that's dangerous."

"I know."

"But you still want to do it."

"Yup."

She nods.
"Okay."

He shouldn't be surprised, really. In the length of time he's known her Sarah's proven herself time and time again to just be one of the most awesome people. But he's still a little shocked at the ease with which she accepts his idea, the certainty she feels in it. Graham's supercomputer project must be weighing on her mind as much as it is on his, and suddenly Chuck knows she must be viewing this as the same thing he is.
A chance to see his family before everything, potentially, goes to hell, and changes eternally.

"Really?"

Yet again, she nods, a small smile slipping onto her lips.
"Yeah, I... It makes sense. And... I want to meet them, too, so..." She looks so shy all of a sudden that he can only smile at her and wait for her to continue, so overwhelmed with love and affection as he suddenly is. She shrugs. "I told you, I don't want the first time I meet your family to be me standing on their doorstep giving them bad news."

He turns her round in his arms, plants his hands on her shoulders. His thumbs rub circles onto her skin though he barely registers doing it.

He licks his lips, pauses.
"I... I think I should tell them the truth." Her eyes widen a little but she doesn't interrupt him, and he's glad. He doesn't think he could keep arguing with her over this, but he knows he has to say it. Because ever since she'd first told him that worry, in the van in Venezuela, he's had only one thought. "Sarah, I don't want that to ever have to happen, I don't want you to have that burden of- of telling my sister I've lied to her for years. You don't deserve that, and Ellie doesn't either. I want her to know what I do, and I want her to know I've got the best partner in the world with me."

Though there's a small smile spreading across her lips, Sarah shakes her head, and Chuck realizes it's not in a protest, but in something like disbelief. Like he feels every time he's with her. Like she can't really believe this is happening. He wonders if this time last year she ever thought that one day, she'd be on vacation in Paris with a gigantic nerd, discussing how to breach protocol entirely and tell his family he's a spy, and that she's one too. He doubts it.

"I love you," she murmurs, smile still there, and his heart trips up over itself like it always does when she says that. He guesses that counts for a yes.

"I love you too." He leans in, slips his arms down round her waist, and kisses her. Though it starts slow, as their lips move, part, it heats up and escalates as it so often does, and he feels her pull back to step away.

"We can plan later." Her voice is low, hushed, thick, and it's incredibly, incredibly hot. She reaches down to the shirt she's wearing, his shirt, fiddling with one of the two buttons holding it closed. "After all..." She pops a button. He gulps. "We are in Paris. And it's very... very romantic here, Chuck." She pops the other button. With a shrug of her shoulders, the shirt falls to the floor.

"Oh god," he mumbles, not sure he'll ever get over this, ever get used to quite how incredible she is, quite how able she is to make his head spin out of control. And he's pretty sure he never, ever, wants to. The day he stops being stunned by her is a day he doesn't want to face.

She reaches out a hand, tugs on his arm, and steps backward to the bed, eventually reaching it and falling back onto the sheets to pull him down on top of her.
Yeah, they can plan later.

He's fought terrorists. Drug rings. Rings of rogue spies, cyber criminals, arms dealers, all out bad guys, in the months since last September, he's fought them all, unfazed. He's been vigilant, strong, succeeded where others would fail.

And yet now, walking across the familiar cobbled ground leading to Ellie and Devon's apartment, he's terrified.

It wasn't meant to go this way, it really wasn't, they were all meant to meet at the airport last night and go for dinner. But Chuck and Sarah's flight from Spain (a nostalgic spur-of-the-moment trip back to Barcelona) had been delayed, and Ellie and Devon's work schedules hadn't matched up, so now, 10 hours later than planned, Chuck finds himself walking to his sister's home, suitcase in one hand and Sarah's fingers in the other, and again, he's terrified.

They walk under the arch, Sarah's heels clicking loudly against the ground, and he tightens his grip on her hand as he sees the sight that greeted him for so many years. A little before Stanford, a little after, on time off from his analyst work, and every vacation and break during college, he'd come right back here. When he thinks of home, it's not the house he grew up in, with absent parents and broken necklaces, and it's not the place he and Ellie had lived in before they'd been able to afford this apartment. No, this little complex, with the gurgling fountain and water lilies, the sandy stone, the outdoor fireplace, the twinkle lights embedded in the trellises, this is home. The apartment he's about to step into again, is home. Ellie and Devon, they're home. But, Chuck supposes, Sarah's his home now too. He gets the best of both worlds.

"What d'you think?" he asks, tugging lightly on Sarah's arm as they come to a stop, and watching as she looks around at the various apartments and balconies and shrubs.

She grins, all wide.
"I love it. It's so..."

"So Ellie?"

She laughs, eyeing the ground and tossing her hair back over her shoulder, and he beams back in reply.
"Yeah." He's very aware his girlfriend has never even met Ellie, and yet even she can tell, this place is perfect. It fits. As the thoughts of what's to come this afternoon fill his head again, though, the happier images subside. He must tense, because Sarah steps right in front of him, squeezes his fingers tight. "You okay, Chuck?" she murmurs, her tone wavering just a little, and he knows she's just as nervous as he is.

"Oh yeah, yeah, I'm good," he says, acting far more calm than he feels. He's sure she sees right through it, but she doesn't call him out on it. "I'm just... preparing myself."

He'd tried to warn Sarah about all the possible Ellies they might meet across the threshold. Ecstatic and excited that they're here, cold and frustrated that it's been over nine months since he saw her last, uncomfortably positive and dropping hints about him and Sarah moving forward left right and center. Any version of his sister could be through that door, and really, he's as unprepared for her as Sarah is. Ellie's a tough one to predict, he'll give her that.
But, they're here for a reason. Because he misses his sister, because more than anything he wants his closest family to meet his girlfriend, and because, most importantly, he has things to tell Ellie and Devon, significant things. Things he really, really, needs to get off his chest. Before he might have to keep an even bigger secret.

"Have you thought anymore about what we're going to do?"
Sarah's clearly asking about the Intersect project, and he just shakes his head, looking down at the ground. They've had weeks to try and figure things out since the Director called, and they still haven't worked out a plan. If Chuck rejects it, he risks being fired, split up from Sarah, or worse, risks being forced and ordered to go through with the assignment. If he takes it, he'll be a walking database for the CIA & NSA, under their control, maybe doing good but with a giant target on him at all times, and he still risks being split up from Sarah, unless Graham decides to factor her into his plans when they meet with him in a couple weeks. Both scenarios could lead to him not getting to talk to Ellie for a long, long time.
Truthfully, neither of the options are appealing.

"Hey," Sarah murmurs, evidently figuring out where his head's at, and he looks back up at her only to see her sending him a kind gentle smile that makes his insides melt, and he falls in love with her all over again. "I'm sorry, don't think about that. Think about this, now. It'll be good to see them."

She nudges his shoulder, and he nods, smiling back in kind as a happy breathy laugh spills out.
"Yeah. Yeah, it will. I love you." Maybe it's not really the time for that, but it's true, and her calming him down at this moment in time is very, very much needed. She knows just what to do, all the time. How he got so lucky as to be with her, he still doesn't know.

"I love you too." She says, sending him a crooked grin as they walk up to the apartment door, and with that confidence rising in him, he leans forward and raps his knuckles against the wood a couple times, tangling his fingers in Sarah's again the moment he pulls away.

When the door eases open a few seconds later, and Ellie's hesitant smile fills his gaze, he's pretty sure he stops breathing.

"Oh my god it's really you," his sister murmurs, breathy and hurried as she reaches out for him, and he drops his suitcase and drops Sarah's hand and just hugs his sister so so tight because he hasn't seen her in months, hasn't seen the woman who raised him, the woman who's always been there, his sister, Ellie, hasn't seen her for almost a year, and he knows, he just knows how close he got to not being on this doorstep at all. If it weren't for Sarah, oh, so so many times, he'd be dead. And Ellie can never know how touch and go it's all been.

"I missed you!" Ellie says happily, as she squeezes the life out of him, and he laughs in what he thinks is glee before pulling away and beaming at her.

"I missed you too, El, so much. It's been a crazy couple months, I'm sorry."

"I'll say."
His sister's gaze drifts to his left, to where Sarah stands. She's smiling happily with shining eyes but still looking nervous, unsure, just like she'd told him she felt on the cab ride over. But Ellie just smiles, looks back at him to make the introduction, and he can't really believe this is happening, can't believe the most important woman in his life, the woman he's fallen for, the woman he can't stomach the thought of ever really being without, is about to meet his sister. Up until he met Sarah, Ellie was the most important person he'd known, now relegated to a respectable second as he'd noted so many months ago. At this moment, with his sister's happy expectant smile, he's sure she'd forgive him for that.

"Ellie, this is Sarah, my girlfriend. And my partner." Though Ellie sends him a curious look at that addition, she just moves toward Sarah and dismisses the hand his girlfriend is reaching out. He suppresses a chuckle; he'd told Sarah that Ellie would probably go right in with the hug, but she'd shrugged him off and said nobody was that forward and open the first time they met someone. Eleanor Bartowski is a force to be reckoned with, though. She just wraps Sarah up in a big old hug and he sees his partner send him a stunned look over Ellie's shoulder.

"It's so good to finally meet you, Sarah. With your emails I feel like I already know you!" Ellie says, still grinning as she pulls away. "Thank you, too, I know how much you mean to my brother, so just... thank you. I'm so glad he has someone over there."

"Amen to that!" Comes a booming deep voice, and before Chuck can even properly turn around, Devon has wrapped him up in a giant hug.

"Awesome to see you, Devon." he manages to squeeze out amidst the crushing, and only when Awesome moves away can Chuck breathe properly again.

"Good to have you back, bro, even if it is just for a couple days. And this must be Sarah!"

"Hi, Devon." Sarah greets, giving a little wave and speaking up for the first time since Ellie arrived. By the tone of her voice and the smile on her face, she seems to be okay, happy even, and she lets Awesome bundle her up in a hug too, her expression even more startled this time Chuck can't help but laugh.

"C'mon! Lunch is almost ready, and I'm sure you guys must be starving after your trip." Ellie says, reaching toward him and tugging on his arm to drag him into the apartment he once called home. It smells like nice candles and fresh bread and it's the most familiar thing he could ever think of. Sarah trails behind, though, still smiling and chatting quietly to Devon, and he sends her a grin over his shoulder as they walk through. Well, it's the second most familiar thing he could ever think of.

It's strange to believe that the last time he crossed into this home he'd just left Sarah in her hotel, his lips still tasting like her and his thoughts all hazy and addled and conflicted. He hadn't known what to think, what to make of the woman who'd flipped his world on its axis, who'd left him reeling and wanting, mixed in with the worried thoughts about leaving Ellie for his final months of training and eventually becoming a spy. He'd been quiet, brooding, thinking, as he solemnly packed and shared a sandwich with Ellie on the kitchen counter before she drove him back to the airport.
Now, all these months later, walking through here he's a spy, a good spy, one of the best, and he has the best partner, who he is also completely and utterly in love with. He is, somehow, an entirely different person to that new nervous recruit of the past. He hopes, and thinks, it's a good change.

He heads through the apartment to quickly toss his and Sarah's suitcases in his room, coming back to find Ellie and Devon in the kitchen, and Chuck can't help but notice how skilled at this his sister and her boyfriend are, how like a well-oiled machine their little routine is. Ellie pours drinks, Devon plates sandwiches, neither of them getting in the other's way. As he heads back to Sarah and returns her quick smile whilst slipping an arm round her waist, something tugs in his chest that yearns for this normalcy. This routine. Sure, he and Sarah are far more like a normal couple than most spies, he's pretty positive of that, but they don't get this. The guests, the brunches, doing it enough to work out a routine, a method. If they're in the kitchen together, they're usually cooking, for themselves, in his small little DC apartment while a file for an old or a new mission is never far away. It's the spy life; he signed up for it, and he loves it. But that doesn't mean he doesn't still want this simplicity, god, far too many times.

He's also strangely aware of the effort his sister is going to at this very moment. It may be Sarah's presence, sure, but there was a time for Chuck when lunch with Ellie meant them both flopped on the couch eating cheese balls, her often dropping off for a nap, still in her scrubs. He can't help but be reminded about just how different things are. And they're about to get even more so.

They eat in happy chatter, laughing round the table and drinking the nice punch Ellie's made, Chuck stealing some chips from his sister when she's definitely looking, making her laugh and slap his hand away. Devon tells stories about his last couple rock climbing adventures, Ellie tells some funny patient tales. It's simple, and refreshing, but when Chuck's eyes catch Sarah's as the meal draws to a close, and they all shift over to the couch, he knows he has to get this over with sooner rather than later so they can deal with Ellie's reaction. God, he's sure she's gonna kill him.

"Hey, uh, guys. I... There's something I gotta tell you." Ellie's eyes flick between him and Sarah and back again, and he quickly dives back in before she jumps to an entirely wrong conclusion. "I haven't been... completely truthful, about stuff. About my job, and what I do. And... I don't wanna keep this from you anymore."

Ellie frowns, slow, confused.
"What? What is it, Chuck, what's wrong?" He sees the worry and doubt that creeps into her expression, and he hates himself. She's worried for god's sake, she doesn't even suspect he's been lying to her for years, lied to her about Sarah for months, made up stories and places and excuses, she has no clue. He's the worst brother in the world, he's sure.

"When I got that promotion, last year, I told you that I was doing the same job I had the past couple years, but that I was traveling. And that I met Sarah, again, in DC." His sister nods, confused, and he winces. "Well... that wasn't, really, true. For one, I work with Sarah, every day. She's my partner."
When he reaches out for her, her hand slips into his right away, softly curling round his fingers, and he smiles just a little.

"I don't get it," Awesome says, and Chuck decides to bite the bullet.

"We're agents for the government, guys."

The gasp is almost audible.

"What? Chuck- No, you told me you worked a desk job for the government, not anything about-"

He rather selfishly interrupts before she can make him feel even worse.
"I know, I did tell you that, but it was only sorta true." Sarah squeezes his hand tighter. "When I was here last, I had a couple months left of my training, and when I completed that, I got promoted. I'm an agent. That's why I do all the traveling, that's... That's why I haven't seen you for... god, ten months." He just about keeps his voice from cracking at the end. Just about. Because he's on the verge of crumbling apart and he knows his girlfriend's grip is the only thing anchoring him together.

"Who do you work for?" Devon asks after a few silent seconds, voice quiet, tense. Unsure.

"The CIA."
It's Sarah who answers, unexpectedly, taking the initiative where she must have known Chuck would falter, both out of pride and inherent protocol. He's not quite sure what he's going to do if Ellie doesn't speak soon, so Sarah's diving in is just a godsend in multiple ways.

The air pauses, weighted, pressing down on him, the falling dust that's shining in the beams of sun slipping through the windows almost suspended, somehow still. He can't even hear anyone breathing, or the ticking of a clock, it's just... empty. And with nobody making to speak he just looks up, has to, only to see Awesome staring at the ground slack-jawed. Ellie, on the other hand, is staring Chuck down, jaw tight, hands fisted on her lap, eyes shining with tears but burning with fire at the same time.

He looks at her dead on, sees the change in her gaze like he's seen so many times before. When he'd yelled at her that time when he was seventeen, stressed with finals and Morgan's antics that week, just shouted right at her and she'd stopped, glared right at him. When he'd stormed out a couple days after their Dad left, gone for a walk, and had come back through the front door to find her waiting, seething, arms crossed. When he'd broken their Mom's necklace and she'd blamed him, ratted him out to their father. Just like all those times, and so many more, he can almost count down the seconds until she'll snap. Three, two, one-

"I need some air."

The door clicks shut loudly as she heads out to the courtyard, the echo of the slam reverberating round the room, and though Devon calls out Ellie's name, it's Chuck who stands, running a hand through his hair and trying to gather his thoughts enough to have this conversation.

"I'll talk to her. It's my fault."

That Awesome doesn't seem to know what to say just makes the weight bearing down on Chuck's chest feel even worse. With a quick look to Sarah, he stands, squeezing her shoulder briefly before he heads out to face whatever it is his sister is going to throw at him.

She's in the courtyard still, thankfully, pacing round the fountain and running her hands over her face. When she sees him, she falters in her steps, folding her arms over her chest defensively and not making any move to get closer. He keeps his distance too because he knows it's what she needs. The air is still thick and charged even out here, with them stood so far apart, both braced. It's like a stand off, except it's with his sister, which makes it ten times worse than any stand off he's faced in the field (and there've been quite a few).

"You're a spy." she says, mercifully fairly quiet, so none of the neighbors are likely to hear.

He nods, trying to find the words.
"Yeah." It's all he musters up.

She shakes her head, runs her hands over her face.
"I… I don't know what to say. We never used to keep secrets, you and me. We told each other everything. And now, you… You lied to me. A lot, for years."

Swallowing, he can only nod.
"I had to, El, I'm sorry, it's the rules. I shouldn't even have spoken to you as much as I have these past few months, I mean, the trouble I could get in, that you could get in... Emailing you, telling you what I did, was... such a risk. If anyone found out- finds out- they could track you down, and it was best you didn't know anything about me to tell them. If I'd told you, you'd just be in more danger."

"But you're telling me now?" she asks, flicking a bit of hair off her shoulder. "Why would you do that?"

"I... I can't really explain it, but... an assignment came up. I haven't taken it, yet, but it would be dangerous. I don't know when I'd get to see you, or speak to you. And I- I just needed you to know now." He sighs, seeing as she just blinks, still stares at him. "I've wanted you to know since the start, but I wanted to protect you more."

"And what about me?" she asks, laughing though there isn't an ounce of humor in the sound. "You don't think I want to protect my baby brother?"
She swipes away a rogue tear that rolls down her cheek, but she's not quite quick enough to hide it from him. When he moves toward her, though, she just jerks back, instead moving to sit on the edge of the fountain and running her hands over her face again, as if that might clear her mind. She looks so tired, so worn, and he hates himself even more.

"Oh, Ellie... You raised me. I can never, never pay you back for that. You're an awesome sister. I hate that I had to do this, I hate that what I do has come between us. It's why I came to see you last summer, I... I didn't know when I'd get to again. And it's been so much tougher than I'd thought- if not for Sarah, and being able to email you... I don't think I would've made it."

She looks up then, eyes flaring again like she's seeing red.
"Was anything you told me in those emails even real?"

Quite a bit, Chuck thinks, if merely altered and changed a little, normalized. But he just blinks.
"What I said about Sarah. I couldn't tell you everything, but I really did get paired up with her after we'd already met last summer, and she's definitely the best thing that ever happened to me. And I love her."

Ellie scoffs.
"God, and she's a spy too. I was so happy for you, Chuck, I thought I knew what you were doing, and that you were safe, and you'd met a girl, and…" She takes a deep breath, looks up at him. "It's not what you're doing, I just… I don't know how to understand that you didn't tell me."

Nodding, he stuffs his hands into his pockets, awkwardly, wondering where they go from here. It feels like all they can do is circle around to the start of this all again. He sniffs a little.
"El, Sarah's real, everything about her. I really wanted you to meet her."

"Chuck. She's a spy."

He shrugs.
"I am too." Ellie rolls her eyes, and he shakes his head. "Sarah is so much more than that, sis. Please don't- Please don't judge her, it's... How she came to be here, is way more complicated than how I came to be here."

Ellie just shakes her head, shutting down, and somehow, that's what gets him to snap, that's what sits him down next to his sister on that fountain edge. He tugs on her shoulders, forces her to look at him, because she can question him all she likes, but Sarah is another matter entirely.

"I'm sorry that I lied to you, and I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to tell you, but this job... Ellie, we help people. We save people. I stop bad guys, really bad guys, from doing terrible things, and if I didn't have Sarah I don't know where I'd be." He sighs, shakes his head. "That assignment I might be getting, it'll be dangerous, and I didn't want you to find out about all this if things go south. I didn't want Sarah to have to deal with that. But even with the danger, I could take the job, because I'd be helping people. Sometimes you have to do a—a crazy thing for a good reason."

Of everything, his sister just looks to the ground with her mouth quirked up on one side, and then looks up at him with just the tiniest bit of amusement.
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one."

He gapes.
"Ellie, did you just make a Star Trek reference?"

"I really miss you sometimes, little brother," she says, and for a moment it's like everything is okay. But then her gaze shifts again, and she sighs. "But life isn't a movie, Chuck. No matter what reasons you have, I'm never gonna be okay with you just risking your life every day."

"I know." He nods at her, the thrill of the reference ebbing away along with the sadness and frustration of their argument, though he's not sure that's entirely over. "But, sis, I promise you, I couldn't be with anyone better than Sarah. She's... She's incredible, for so many reasons."

"You really love her, don't you?" The little smile Ellie sends his way lets him breathe easier still.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do, more than anything."

She nods, shrugging.
"I'm happy you have that."

When silence falls again, this time, he can hear cars on the road outside, can hear the rustling of the leaves, can't hear only the pounding of his pulse in his ears or nothing at all, or solely feel the weight of the air pressing down on his shoulders. It's good.

"Hey," he nudges Ellie's shoulder. "How do you feel about a brother-sister hug situation right now?"

She grins slowly at the phrase they've used before, after those arguments in the past, biting her lower lip in that way she always does.
"I'm open to it."

He leans forward to find her hands already on his shoulders and pulling him close, and he just hugs her back even tighter, savouring this moment. Because if this life has taught him anything, it's that you can never guarantee you'll get to do something you take for granted ever again. When Ellie squeezes him in return, he thinks she might be thinking the same thing.

"I'm still not okay with this," she says, words mumbled and muffled by the fact she's speaking into his shoulder, still hugging him tight. "And I might be mad at you for lying to me for a while longer."

He can't help but smile a little. While he understands her stubbornness, it almost reminds him of so many instances from their childhood. Ellie doesn't like to give in.
"I know, El."

"But," She pulls back, ruffling his hair a little before shifting a little away from him. "It's your life. And I know you're doing it for the right reasons. So I can... accept it, maybe. In time."

He sends her a lopsided smile.
"That's good enough for me."

"Can I ask you something, though?" He nods, and she worries her lip a moment before looking at him, determinedly. ""Just... Let me know, what you choose? Please, call or email or- or something, when you find out about this new thing? I need to know. I can't know everything, I get that, but... no more secrets, Chuck. Please."

Though he truly has no idea, still, what he wants to do, and he keeps circling around the same possibilities each time, he nods, musters up a smile for his sister.
"Yeah. Yeah, I promise."

She nods, looks at him for a moment more, and stands, waiting for him to follow suit before they both head back to the apartment.

Chuck's not sure what he'd been expecting to see when they re-entered the room, but Sarah and Devon chuckling quietly isn't quite it. It cuts out, though, when they both turn to look at Chuck and Ellie in tandem. He feels Ellie tense next to him, maybe embarrassed or not sure what to say, and he clears his throat.

"I never gave Sarah the tour. Ellie, I'll let you and Devon... talk." He reaches out a hand to Sarah, wiggling his fingers and smirking at her. He notices she looks surprised, probably at the lightness of him and his sister, but it seems to be a happy surprise. "C'mon, baby. Prepare to be underwhelmed."

Sarah snorts as she takes his hand and stands up, and Ellie sends them both a quiet smile as they head round the kitchen and down the hall. He would give Sarah a full tour, he supposes, but right now he knows that everyone just needs some time apart to reconvene, discuss what's just happened, discuss this new normal of his sister and her boyfriend knowing Chuck is a spy. So instead, he just pulls Sarah round to his room, and closes the door. He expects her to look around, eye the Tron or the Dune poster with a smirk, but instead, she just turns to him.

"How'd it go?" she asks, immediately, grabbing both his hands and staring at him intently.

"Good. Well, as good as it could go, I guess. She, uh, she said she can accept it, so."

A small grin breaks out on Sarah's face, perfect and beautiful and making his stomach flip-flop all over the place.
"That's great, Chuck. I know how tough that was, in there, for you, but I'm glad it'll work out." Her tone is genuine, and she's still beaming, and he just smiles back at her, overwhelmed by the past few minutes.

"I love you so much. I wouldn't have gotten through that without you, Sarah, honestly, I-"

She cuts him off with a kiss and he's more than willing to keep quiet for it. Her hands wind their way round his neck, fingers brushing his hair at the nape as she kisses him slow and lazy and deep, and he just slips his arms round her waist, pulls her closer, takes a step back when she moves forward. Eventually, he finds himself pressed up against the back of his bedroom door, not in a passionate lust-fueled way, just a happy loving easy way, because it's the nearest flat surface and he could honestly rest against it kissing her all day. When they part, he laughs in disbelief.

Sarah eyes him suspiciously, eyes darting around as if looking for something funny.
"What?"

"I just made out, with you, in what's basically my childhood bedroom. Oh, if teenage me could see me now, I swear... Well, he wouldn't believe it. And honestly, I struggle to believe it myself some days."

"Oh stop it." She hits his chest in admonishment, and he knows it's a mix of modesty at his flattering her, and annoyance at his insecurity. But he can't help it. He really will never be used to this, ever. She just kisses him again, and he lets himself relax, for five minutes longer.

"Your tie just needs a little... fixing," Sarah mutters, leaning into him and raising her fingers to fiddle with the knot. Honestly, the tie is stifling, too tight round his neck, too choking, and he wishes he weren't wearing it at all. But this meeting is significant, important, and he needs this suit right now, needs to slip into Charles Carmichael's shoes, be Carmichael, fearless, controlled, composed, if with some reservations about a sketchy assignment. He can't be Chuck Bartowski, giant nerd, boyfriend to the most amazing woman in the world, and completely petrified right about now.

A little part of him thinks of Barcelona, out of the blue, of that skinny tie Sarah had had him wear though he'd rather have foregone it, and then of Kentucky when she'd tugged tight on his tie then to pull him in for that pretty much earth-shattering kiss, and he reminds himself to ask her if she's got a thing for him and ties at a more appropriate date.

"That's better..." She sends him a smile, but he can only flash one back at her, tight in reply, and he sees her face fall and instantly feels awful for his bad acting job. Reaching out, her hands curl round his lapels, and she tugs on them, bringing him to attention and meeting her determined gaze. "Hey. Don't freak out."

"Okay. Okay, I'm good." He brings up a better smile, more real, more controlled, though probably just as terrified-looking, and she grins back in reply, taking a step back even as she looks at him, open, affectionate.

"I love you."

"I love you too." he murmurs, then rests a hand against the small of her back briefly, gently, leading her to step forward out the shadows with him. A few quick steps more, and the large imposing structure of the CIA Headquarters appears round the corner. "Let's do this."

They walk separately, side by side, perfectly matching in pace as they walk up to the building. Agents swarm outside the entrance, clutching briefcases and coffee cups, some talking on phones as they walk, some chatting to others on the patches of grass outside the bland doors. Chuck and Sarah keep in time as they avoid the mass, well-rehearsed, in-sync, and it's times like these he's still a little stunned he knows someone as well as he knows his partner. They're perfect together, and if this meeting decides otherwise, or makes that otherwise, well, he's not quite sure how he'll deal with that.

The doors glide open as they enter the lobby together, Sarah sending him a quick glance of reassurance before they ease round the humming reception and find the turnstiles. With quick swipes of their passes, they're in, headed to the elevator with the rest of the masses, and Chuck's not sure when he started thinking of this meeting like a mission, plotting every nuance and occurrence in the space, tracking his own movements, eyeing Sarah's, but it's happened, and he's pretty sure it's not without reason.
A short elevator ride later- too short, in Chuck's opinion-, and they're outside Graham's office. The receptionist blinks up at them.

"Agents Walker and Carmichael, here to see Director Graham?" Sarah says, and Chuck's glad she's the one who spoke because he's a little stunned right now, being back in this same place his life changed not so long ago, eight months, give or take. But now he's here with Sarah, his partner, his girlfriend, his infinitely more, and she's occupying his thoughts in a far different way to the way she was last time.
Last time, she'd been a whirlwind, twelve hours he'd fallen so hard for, he couldn't stop thinking about. This time, she's with him, supporting him, like he knows she would forever if it got to that. And he loves her.

"Take a seat, he'll be right out." It really is the same receptionist as before, even, the guy who looks like Devon, chiseled and blonde, and as they head over to the small cluster of chairs Sarah sends Chuck a look that says she's picked up on the similarity too.

"We're good." she murmurs, for his ears only as she sits next to him, and though he's staring at the floor he can see her hand just in his peripheral vision, reaching out for his but stopping in the air, like she's just remembered where she is, that to Graham, the receptionist, everyone in this damn building, they're not together. They're just partners. She pulls back.

It's silent for a couple minutes until the door clicks, and there stands Langston Graham, brooding, arms crossed over his chest, watching.

"Agents." he nods, and Chuck stands immediately, hands automatically smoothing down his suit. Sarah stands slower, separate, not so in-sync. It's probably deliberate on her part, shows they're not as impossibly attuned to the other as they are, but it still feels strange, somehow. "Follow me."

Though Chuck had been expecting to step back into that familiar grand office, Graham sweeps past the two of them instead, and heads back out the door they came through a few minutes ago. Chuck only has time to send Sarah a questioning look to which she merely shrugs before they follow after, down a long straight hall until finally the Director stops at a door. The surrounding walls are frosted glass and Chuck can just about make out the handful of people inside, shadows moving about, and he knows it's time.

When they step through into the conference room, Graham waiting for the agents to follow in before closing the door, Chuck eyes the people now turning in his very direction. There's a woman in a military suit, one eyebrow raised in expectation, and two others, men in suits with CIA IDs hanging on their pockets. One of them is wearing glasses, his hairline receded, the other isn't even looking their way. If he had to, Chuck would hazard a guess they're the scientists behind this.

Graham clears his throat.
"Agents Carmichael, Walker. Let me introduce General Diane Beckman of the NSA, she'll be heading up this operation with me. And the scientists, Doctor Busgang and Doctor Zarnow."

Looking at them all, Chuck nods, tries to perfect a casual Carmichael-like air.
"Hi." he says. Beckman stays back, hands held behind her back, still just observing like she's waiting to be impressed. One of the doctors approaches immediately, though, smile wide and glasses a little crooked.

"It's nice to meet you, Agent Carmichael, Agent Walker, I'm Doctor Busgang. I look forward to working with you."

"Yeah," is all Chuck can manage, apprehensive as he is. If Graham hasn't worked out a solution but is still going to order Chuck to go ahead with this, then he has no way out, no option. The people in this room and a computer in his head is all that's in his future- that, or unemployment. The other doctor, Zarnow, hasn't moved yet, and Chuck wonders if Busgang will be the only friendly person on this whole project.

Without even speaking, Beckman gestures to the table, and Chuck wordlessly finds a chair at the head of the conference table, Sarah sitting right next to him. Graham and the scientists sit and stand at the other side, files spread out on the space, pictures and papers all marked top secret. A sick feeling rises in Chuck's stomach, out of nowhere.

"We hope to-" Busgang starts, but Chuck raises a hand, cutting him off. He feels the tightness of his tie round his throat, but breathes, takes a second, and lets himself relax into Carmichael.

"I'm... I'm sorry, to interrupt, really, but, Director the last time you and I spoke, I pointed out some... flaws, in your plans, and some conditions. I don't really think there's much point in continuing if you haven't fixed those yet." His tone is a little cockier than it needs to be, but hey, that's Carmichael.

Graham sighs, loudly, sharing a somehow knowing look with Beckman, like they'd expected this, and Chuck wonders quite when he became the kid left behind on the playing field, being gossiped and whispered about.
"I assure you, Agent Carmichael, they're... fixed." the Director says, disdainfully.

Sarah clears her throat, and Chuck sees her lean in, fold her arms atop the table.
"If I might ask what you're proposing, Sir? Surely we can work out the specifics once we know what we'll actually be doing."

Though he waits a moment, Graham nods and relents, and Chuck begins to thank his partner for having such a connection to the Director before his rage over that particular connection floods him again and he just sits in silence.

"Not much would change, agents." Beckman pipes up, finally. "The Intersect shouldn't hinder your abilities as a spy in any way, Agent Carmichael, the plan is to have you continuing to work with Agent Walker on missions just as you do now, neither of you would be put to waste. However, as this is a joint op, I'm requesting you work with one of my agents too as a team, when the time comes for you both to return to field work with the Intersect. That way, Carmichael, you'll have two agents both working with you and protecting you."
Chuck sighs, relieved. Sarah's still here.

"And, if I might add, though at this time the Intersect will just be comprised of data and information, we hope to add to it in the future." Busgang says, still bright and cheery next to his somber companion.

"Add what?" Chuck manages to ask, mind running a mile a minute.

"Commands, actions, hopefully some self-defense. We're looking into languages right now, and though it's still early, it looks promising."

"Self-defense?" Sarah asks, sounding perplexed and a little awed.

"Well... yes. We hope to fill the Intersect with a variety of martial arts skills, and when the subject, in this case Agent Carmichael, utilises the computer, the skills will be fed to his brain and he could act out the command despite having had no prior training in that discipline. We have similar hopes for a language database."

Sarah narrows her eyes.
"Agent Carmichael has been trained, Doctor, he's fully field-proficient. I can vouch for that." Chuck can't help but think his partner sounds a little irked, which is flattering, but he's not quite sure why. He clears his throat.

"Why would I need more skills?"

Graham sighs.
"Every spy can improve. Every spy can… make more lethal hits, make clearer shots. Even you, Carmichael. Even a spy like Agent Walker. The Intersect can remove the human error."

Oh. Chuck gulps. Now he realizes why Sarah was asking. This thing could cut past all of his insecurities, his issues, with this job, this could turn him into, for lack of a better word, a killing machine. One with a universal translator. Everything sounds like science fiction, right now, and though he thinks he should be nerding out over these things being real, he finds himself merely shrugging, weighing this new information up.
"I guess we'll, um, come to that if it happens." If he becomes some crazy Terminator-like spy. Even the thought is ridiculous. "You invented this thing, I guess you know what it's capable of."

"We didn't invent it." Zarnow says. Chuck's head jerks up, stunned at the guy finally speaking, sounding even more bored than Beckman and Graham.

"If you didn't-"

"We can get onto that later, Agent Walker." Graham says, sharply, and Chuck resists the urge to share a suspicious look with Sarah. That's curious. "As for your other concern, Carmichael, about your... I believe you called it creating quite a bounty? As this is a joint op, General Beckman and myself will keep knowledge of the human Intersect to a minimum within the intelligence community. Only a handful of others outside this room will even know you exist. The main computer will still be operational, and we'll lead everyone to believe that's the only copy."
Somehow, to Chuck, that's not really a reassurance. Having a backup just makes him more expendable, if they could find someone else to put this thing into, means there's always another version out there, ticking by. Which means Chuck can be risked far more than if it were just him, the only copy.

But Graham listened to him, and they're at least attempting to move to his demands by reducing how many people would know he exists.

He has to admit, this thing seems cool. It's new, but it's got potential, and the agencies seem intent on honing that. The scientists seem dedicated, as do Beckman and Graham. And Chuck would still get to work with Sarah, side by side, every day. It would be dangerous, but they'd still be doing their jobs, achieving the goals he joined the CIA in order to achieve (well, it was that and to prove a point to Bryce Larkin). He'd be in more danger, and he'd have to answer to Graham a lot more, have much less freedom, but he'd have more information. They'd still be helping people. But there's one more thing weighing on his mind, keeping him from committing to this.

"Director Graham, could I speak to you privately, for a moment, if that's okay?"

Sarah turns to him, eyes wide with a question, mouth parted in silent objection, but he just nods at her, hopefully in reassurance. Graham grunts, but heads toward the door they came through, gesturing to Chuck to follow. He does, and they stand outside the frosted glass in the corridor.

"Well?"

"Sir, I have a sister," he says, wondering why it feels dangerous to even admit that in these walls.

The Director frowns, folds his arms yet again.
"I've read your unsealed file, Agent Carmichael, I'm well aware."

He tries not to roll his eyes, knowing being too sarcastic here would just make Graham shut him down instantly. And he needs the man on his side, right now. Because after seeing Ellie, after the promise he made to her, no more secrets, Chuck needs this. He clears his throat.
"I took this job to protect her, to keep her safe, but if I do this- if I download your Intersect, I put her in a whole lot more danger. I've done this job long enough to know how the enemy works, if they want me, they'll happily go through her to find me."

"I could arrange a detail for her, or-"

Raising a hand, he once more feels Carmichael's persona, far more confident in that than in his own, in Chuck's.
"I don't want her under surveillance, and she wouldn't want that either. But, if you let me arrange protection for her, a number she can call, and if you let me stay in contact with her, I might just do this."

Graham raises an eyebrow, somehow stands more imposingly, scarily, like the Director of the agency he is.
"I don't appreciate you using this as an opportunity to blackmail me, Carmichael. I've already given into your demands about Walker. We need to minimize the risks, you can't just tell every civilian you want." He leans in a little, narrows his eyes. "You can't win them all."

Though his words are quite true, Chuck refuses to believe them. He folds his arms too, mimicking Graham's stance, tenses his frame, stares the older man down, and takes something of a gamble.
"Director, that you did just that with Sarah, and gave in, that told me one thing. You need me." He shuffles on his feet, straightens out a little, feels Carmichael's charm and confidence, with a little arrogance mixed in, flow over his shoulders, and he's never been so glad for his agent self than in this very moment. He looks at Graham, coolly. "I'm not gonna lie, the Intersect's appealing, you know I worked engineering in college, you know I studied tech as an analyst, it was always gonna be interesting to me. But I'm your only choice. You let me do this, you let me keep my sister safe, and this could work."

"You're right about one thing, Agent." Graham says, after a beat, scoffing a little and moving back toward the room.

"And what's that?"

He shrugs.
"You're my only choice." He turns back to the door and pushes it open swiftly, striding back in, and Chuck hurriedly runs between the gap before the door swings closed again.

Sarah's looking at him, a question clearly written on her face, and by the awkward air in the room Chuck guesses nobody spoke in his and the Director's absence.

"Everything okay?" Sarah asks, under her breath, as he takes his seat next to her once more, and he turns to her with a nod. Her gaze shifts and he thinks she knows what just happened. The tables just turned, for everyone. He can't believe that worked.
He'd guessed they needed him for the project, he'd guessed it was important, but for Graham to just give in like that cemented the idea in Chuck's mind; this thing is a big deal. He's a big deal. And the CIA and NSA are willing to do a lot to get, and keep, the Intersect in his head.

"So, agents." Beckman says, sounding a little impatient, shifting one of the folders on the table and pulling out stamped documents as she glares at Graham. The files are thick wads of paper, tied and sealed, official markings of the agencies at the top. It's a contract, a deal, and the time has come to sign before they can find out anymore. "Are you in?"

When Chuck turns to Sarah, her eyes are still clear, open, though her expression is just quiet inquisitiveness and nothing more, nothing to convey the trust she's sending his way, the strength, the love. But he feels that all anyway. He just knows.

He raises an eyebrow, sees the tiny incline of Sarah's head. Under the table, he subtly reaches out just a little, finds her knee, squeezes it, anchoring, and lets go. She's here. She's in.

And just like that, he has no real reason to decline. It'll still be dangerous, yes, he'll be at the mercy of the people in this room, but Sarah will be safe, and with him, Ellie will be safe too, and he'll be the spy he... always could've been? Because that's the reality, truly; if Bryce had never tried to get him kicked out of Stanford, if Bryce hadn't objected, Chuck would've been a fully fledged spy years ago, he'd know languages and even more self-defense, he'd know important intel, he'd be able to make difficult shots, maybe—he's still a little unsure on that. But instead of training properly, he'd sat behind a desk, running algorithms and inputting data day after day until the CIA intervened, having watched him do small insignificant work for long enough. Without Bryce, Chuck would have the Intersect, the project would've continued as planned, its top recruit running round the world knowing this and that. This path, the Intersect, this was what he was always meant to do. He just took a little longer getting here than he should've.
And he has Sarah as his partner, and his sister's newly strengthened safety, to show for that. This might not be the path he was initially meant to be on, but he knows a hundred times it's the best one he could ever wish to travel.

He turns back to the bosses at the other end, Zarnow looking a little excited suddenly, Busgang somewhat apprehensive, Beckman and Graham stoic but just with the tiniest question in their eyes.
He can almost count it down with Sarah. Are they in?

"Yes."

"Yes."

They say it at the same time. In sync.

"Chuck?" she calls out, voice only just audible from so far away in their bedroom. Their bedroom, he thinks with a smile, because she really has moved in now, transferred everything else she owns, got her own key, put pictures of them up on shelves and clear spaces. There's even one of him and Sarah and Ellie and Devon, taken by Morgan their second last day in LA. They'd taken a walk in the sun and stopped by the Griffith Observatory. Los Angeles stretches out in the background behind them all, lights and brick and stone sharp against the pure blue sky. It's a beautiful picture, and though it sits less than romantically stuck to their fridge, it's perfect. It's his family, all together, what with Morgan's face giant in the corner of the shot too, though that was unplanned, typically Morgan. Chuck's childhood friend had been a little eager to spend as much time with him as possible, even though Chuck hadn't told him about the spy life then. If Ellie had felt betrayed, somehow Chuck knew Morgan would've felt even more so, and they simply didn't have enough time to get over that in the week they'd spend there.

But even with that deception hurting him a little, importantly, the taped-up scrapbook in Chuck's wallet is no more, replaced by this, by the real.

This apartment is also so much more of a home than ever now; this is where they come back, every single day, after a session with the scientists or a tough briefing with Beckman and Graham. Putting down roots is supposed to be impossible for a spy, and yet here they are, with a home, with roots.
He might miss the thrill of missions they used to have, the rush of adrenaline only that can bring, the traveling from place to place, since they've only worked a few LA-based jobs since the Intersect preparations began, but Chuck knows he's got something infinitely better, infinitely more permanent, right here with Sarah.

"In here," he calls out in reply, and he hears her feet padding all the way across the hardwood floor until he sees her reflected in the window, standing right behind him.

"Are you okay?"

"Mhm?" He casts a look behind him, smiles. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just doing some people watching."

"At 3am from the 8th Floor?"

He can't help but chuckle, smiling even more when she slips her arms round his shoulders, resting her head next to his. She must be right up on her tiptoes to reach him, which is frankly, adorable. He rests his hands on top of hers just below his neck.
"The city looks nice from here, what can I say?"

In the hazy blurry city-speckled reflection of her, he sees her frown.
"Are you sure you're okay? How's your head?" She slips away, moving her arms back, and runs a hand through his hair.

He had his first upload today. Just a test, one little file of information, over in a few seconds, and minutes after he'd gotten some information from a picture of a turtle in a flash, with only the tiniest ache in his head that faded right away. The scientists were more than impressed at how easy it had been, how simple, and as he'd left the white room Chuck had heard Busgang muttering something about how things were beyond his wildest dreams.

"I'm fine, honestly, it doesn't hurt at all."

"They did say you're perfect for it."

He chuckles drily at Sarah's thoughts lining up with his own.
"That they did." He turns around to face her, slides his arms round her waist. "Are you worried about me?"

She nods.
"Of course I am. But... today went well. That could be promising."

"I'm gonna call Ellie again tomorrow, let her know what happened, as best I can. Let her know it's... it's definitely going ahead."
The scientists think in a month or two, he'll be ready, and they'll be ready too. He'll have constant updates with new information every few months, sure, but the big upload, it's on the horizon, it's close. After a month here, prepping and researching and investigating, learning all he can about this computer, he damn well hopes it works. He's still a little apprehensive, having something so a part of him, stuck in his head, being government property. He'll sign on the dotted line and give Graham and Beckman the authority to send him wherever with the team, do whatever, shoot whomever, even. They'll control this, which irks Chuck. He's his own person, not just the guy with a brain capable of holding a computer. A computer which, he knows, will always have a backup, a just-in-case, but in case of what? In case they get fed up of him, in case they find someone else, someone better? But despite that, with today, he's sure this is what he wants to do, sure this is the route he should take in this profession. He just wants to help people.

"That sounds like a good idea." Sarah murmurs, kissing his chest briefly. "Hey, what did you think of Casey?"

He smirks at her, tightening his grip and trying not to laugh thinking of their new partner, their third teammate, who they met before the test upload today. The guy was gruff, grumpy, and rambled on about his distaste at being assigned to an existing partnership, and how he only took this assignment because he'd been ordered to.
Chuck knows he and Sarah have both heard tales of this guy, rumours through the intelligence community, and so Chuck truly believed the Major when he said he wanted to do anything but be assigned to an experimental team protecting a walking talking computer, but he also believed Casey when he said he'd do his best to protect them. Because it's his job.

"He's terrifying," Chuck admits. "But he seems good at his job, and... very loyal, to the country."

"It's his loyalty to us he'll have to prove, you know that."

"Yeah... Hey, what do we do with him, about, y'know, us?" He has to ask, since it is the biggest apprehension he has over becoming a team with this guy. If he and Sarah have to pretend they're not together, all for Casey's sake, that's gonna get old and awkward, fast. "I don't think it'd take him long to get suspicious when you keep sleeping in the same bed as me."

Sarah wrinkles her nose.
"You make it sound like I'd have to sleep in the same bed as him to even things out."

"Ew, no, gross." He pulls a face at the thought, and Sarah shrugs.

"No, we'll... We should tell him. Force him not to tell Beckman and Graham, of course, but we should let him know. I can be very persuasive, we shouldn't have any trouble." At her words, she runs a hand down his chest, and he blinks slowly, sleepy, and pretty turned on all of a sudden.

"You threatening someone is way hotter than it should be."

"I know." She laughs, throws back her head and sends him a grin, and he grasps her hand, tangles his fingers in hers.

"This is the right thing, right?" He's asked the same thing so many times the past many weeks, after a bad briefing with Beckman, after Zarnow yelled at him for asking what the cipher did for the second time in so many days, but today, it feels different. Today, the apprehension Chuck feels isn't frustration or anger at those involved in this operation; today, it's fear. For all the work and research, today was the first day they've had something to show for it, the first day they've known, wholeheartedly, that the Intersect can function in a person. That it can recall information, that it's detailed, that it works quick enough to not endanger Chuck should he activate it mid-mission. Today showed it's not controllable, no, but it's quick. Today, they got the go-ahead. Today, for what feels like the thousandth time, Chuck's life changed, again, Sarah's along with it.

She nods, expression so steady, so sure.
"Yeah, I think so. And you think so too."

"Yeah, I do," he murmurs, though he's nowhere near as confident as she is, right now.

"But it still scares you."

"Yeah. But at the same time, it's... It's awesome. Seriously, Sarah, today, with that picture, I- I just knew what it meant, it just came to me like a flash of information. It was like..." He roots round his mind, thinking of a way to equate the strange slow then immediately rapid zooming-in sensation, bending his mind and making him forget to breathe all at once, and he snaps his fingers when it comes to him. "Oh! It was like my brain went to warp."

She smirks, and he knows it's at the reference, since he's been giving her a nerd education in their off time.
"I could tell."

"What- Wait, you could?" He frowns, but she only smirks even more.

"Yeah, you, uh, you made a face when it happened."

"I did? Huh, I thought I just kinda... frowned, a little." She grins, and he sends her a flat look, knowing she's avoiding saying something now. "Was it a weird face?"

She tries, very badly, to suppress a laugh and he though he attempts to keep a straight expression as he narrows his eyes at her, he fails, instead laughing along with her but remaining as indignant as he can.
"You're telling me I'm gonna be stuck with this thing for the foreseeable future and I'm gonna make a stupid face every time I use it?"

She shrugs, still giggling. She's so adorable he can't even be mad, he finds.
"I guess."

"Oh for g-" He cuts himself off and changes the subject somewhat, lifting her by the waist and swinging round, heading back to their bedroom and smiling as she laughs even more.

"It's kinda cute."

"Gee babe, you know just how to charm me."

She runs her hand down his chest again before he places her down on the sheets.
"Yes, I do."

He can only smirk and lean in to kiss her.

"I can't believe they scheduled it for the day after your birthday."

"I guess it's the agency's twisted way of wishing me many happy returns."
He sighs, shifting the phone to his other hand, running his now-free fingers through Sarah's hair where she's lying against his side, head on his thigh. Her eyes are shut but she's not sleeping, he knows, she's just listening in on his conversation with Ellie, likely hoping everything goes well.
He'd managed to send an email off to his sister the moment they got the date a couple weeks ago, but today, the day before it's due to happen, he just wants to chat to her. He needs to talk to Ellie, hear her voice, let her know he's okay, he's going to be okay. He's had contact like he'd demanded, as much as the CIA have allowed, but he hasn't seen her since the spring, what with all the research and tests and practice, and setbacks have meant it's taken until late September to get the upload functional and ready. First the cipher glitched, then there was an issue with the white room, then something happened to the processor and Busgang and Zarnow had cursed Orion, whoever that was, for abandoning them, for days.

But the Intersect's up and running, and tomorrow, Chuck's life changes. Again. It keeps doing that, he notes with a wry smirk.

The difference is, he thinks he wants this change. This long wait, all the research and delays, all he's learnt, all he's done, he pretty much wants the Intersect now. Not just because it's cool, or he thinks it could help him help people, he knows it can. He's had the beta version, gone through flash after flash (the scientists coined the term after the sheer speed of the data), he knows what he can retain, and speak, and remember. And soon he'll have that tenfold, in a team, saving the world.

"I really wish I could be there for it." Ellie says, sigh matching his down the line.

"I do too, El. But like I said, we've practiced it a lot, it'll be fine." He wonders idly if he's saying that just for his own reassurance or for Ellie's too. Because the upload is happening in 15 hours, at 10am sharp, and if not for his sister's voice in his ear and his girlfriend curled up by his side, he'd be beyond freaking out by now. "Besides, Sarah'll be there with me, and I'll know you're like, thinking of me, too."

"So in the email, you said it's like a surgery, but not?" she confirms, and he cracks his neck.

"That's the best way to describe it, I think. My job won't be much different, I'll just have this... surgery, to add to it."

"And you're sure it's safe?"

"Yes," he placates, much like he has to every time he calls her. He wishes for the hundredth time that he could just tell her exactly what's going on, because he knows she'd understand, knows she'd keep it quiet. And after all, she's a doctor, a neuroscientist, she could've easily been on the team that developed the Intersect, and frankly, Chuck's sure she'd be better than some of the people he's worked with recently. She's awesome. She's his sister. But since she is, and since she's a doctor, she's always going to be concerned about this sort of thing.

"How long will you take to recover after this... surgery?"

"It'll take a while itself, the doctors aren't sure how long but maybe eight hours, seven..." They realized a little ways into testing that it's easier for Chuck to be strapped to a chair while the uploads happen. He has a bad habit of falling over after them. "But once it's done I shouldn't be out too long, they'll wake me."

"And you'll call me the minute they do?"

He sighs, twisting his lips into a wry smile she can't see.
"I'll call you the minute I can, El, there's a difference there, sadly-" Sarah pokes him in the leg and he looks down at her. "Yeah, baby?"

"I could call her during it, let her know it's going okay." she suggests, so relaxed, and he smiles at her, feeling his nose crinkle.

"And, Sarah's gonna call you midway through. You can talk crap about me behind my back, huh?"

Ellie laughs, and he lets the warmth and contentment wash over him, fill him, reassure him. He just hopes he knows this again, soon. He's not sure when he'll next get to see his sister and his friends, when the next break will be, but he's hopeful. If he convinced Graham to give in once, Chuck just hopes he can do it again.

"Okay, that sounds nice. Hey, Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy birthday," she murmurs.

He smiles a little sadly.
"Thanks, El." She pauses, and he sighs, knowing he needs to end the call. "I love you, El. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Love you too, little brother." With a suspiciously tearful-sounding sniff, she ends the call, and he lets out the breath he'd been holding in.

"That sounded like it went well." Sarah murmurs, pushing herself up against him and brushing some hair out her face. There's a little faint crease on her cheek from a wrinkle in his jeans, and it's adorable.

"It did. Thank you for offering to call her, I kinda think she'll need that."

She merely shrugs, raising a shoulder and smiling lopsidedly.
"She's family. You do that kind of stuff for family."

He can't help but shake his head and lean in to kiss her. He wonders, absentmindedly, how much she's changed in the year or so they've worked together, because it is almost a year. Barcelona was just days after his birthday last year, London creeping into early October. Back then he hardly knew her, she was just a spy, not in want of a partner, still hurting from the years-passed betrayal of a close friend and teammate. He likes to think he challenged her opinions just a little back then, but god, now, a year later, she's got a family, his family, they're all a part of one another now, inextricably linked. She'll call his sister tomorrow to comfort her, but he thinks she might just get some comfort out of it herself too. That's a pretty big change of priorities from the woman he met last year, and he thinks she might think it's a good one.
Pulling back, he slouches against the couch cushions once more.

"I gotta say, this has been the laziest birthday I've ever had."

Sarah raises an eyebrow.
"Uh, I'm sorry?"

"No, it's cool, it's fun." He chuckles. "It's... relaxing. It's been so busy lately gearing up for the upload, I'm not sure when we last got a day to just hang out and eat crap."

Her eyes travel to the empty pizza box on the coffee table. Just like old times. And as he follows her gaze, he thinks back to that first evening she spent here, of the photographs they took to send to Ellie which now sit framed by their bedside, of that almost-moment, interrupted by a far too prompt delivery guy. Now he's living with Sarah, so impossibly in love with her, and though he knows his future is the Intersect and a team and missions and intel, when he thinks about it just himself, all he thinks of that's to come, is Sarah.

She smirks.
"Me neither."

"You wanna watch another movie before we go to bed?" It's not too late, and though they have to be up early tomorrow to get to the DNI for 10am, a quick A New Hope rewatch feels just about right at this very moment.

"Okay." she says, with a knowing smile that makes his stomach flip, even now.

He stands to find the disc- not hard, it's always on a nearby shelf- and sets it up, and the moment he sits back down again, Sarah's snuggled up into his side, head against his chest but angled right to the TV screen.

"Hey," she murmurs, just as Luke and C3P0 leave to go find R2 again, and he looks down at her.

"Mhm?"

"You with me?"

He can't help but smile, think back, think back to a time before the Intersect, before this pressure, when he was just a guy partnered with the most incredible woman in the world, completely in love with her. Some things hardly change, he muses.

"Always."

She reaches up to kiss his cheek, then turns back to the movie.

When he's woken at 1am by the frantic beeping and buzzing of both his and Sarah's cell phones, he's both relieved, and pissed off, because he feels like crap. Sleep had been elusive, the early time they'd headed to bed combined with his increasing anxiousness making it near impossible to drift off, and he's sure he only got the past half hour before someone decided to wake them up impossibly early. Sarah seems unmoved, still asleep, and he leaps out of bed and grabs both their phones as he stumbles sleepily out into the wider space of his apartment. He double checks he's definitely answering his phone and not his girlfriend's, before he picks up.

"Carmichael, se-"

"We have a situation, Agent Carmichael," Graham says, voice calm and smooth even though Chuck can hear chaos and sirens in the background. He swallows, frowns.

"What... what is it, what happened?"
It's something bad, he can ascertain that much. Is someone dead? One of the scientists, or Beckman? It's not an unusual question in this business. Was there a problem with the computer, did it start prematurely, did the system overload on one last test? Or did the other bad alternative happen, did someone find out about the Intersect, copy the data, take the schematics?

"The Intersect was destroyed."

Chuck swallows. That was the option he was completely putting from his mind.
He's surprised to find only the tiniest bit of him isn't swamped in annoyance, anger, rage. Because it's been months working on this, he'd worked toward today, prepared himself, and now someone's stepped right all over it, over him, and literally blown everything into little pieces.

"How?"

"Someone broke in, downloaded the entire system, then blew up the white room before sending the computer to someone. There's nothing left."

"Who?" He can only speak in one word questions now, apparently.

Graham pauses, and Chuck's stomach turns in apprehension of just why the older man is sparing him this. Right before he speaks, suddenly, Chuck knows exactly what he's going to say.
"It was Agent Larkin." Somehow, it's barely a shock. "It appears he went rogue on his first assignment since his deep cover mission."

If Chuck thought he was angry before, it's nothing compared to this, to the fury that boils in his chest. He'd sorta forgiven Bryce for trying to kick him out of college, he'd told himself his former friend was just looking out for him, doing what he thought was best, and since, after all, his actions led to Chuck meeting Sarah, he thought he'd let it go. But if protecting his friend is anywhere near Bryce's excuse this time, Chuck can't believe it, won't, he refuses to. No, Bryce is just sabotaging any chance Chuck has of making this work, of being a spy, of surviving in this game.
And Chuck doesn't want to play anymore.

"Needless to say, you don't need to come in later today. We have a lot to figure out. How much damage was done, if we can rebuild, where Larkin sent the computer to so we can get it back. Just... await further instructions."

"Yes-" Chuck clears his throat, tries again. "Yes sir."

"Oh, and Carmichael?"

"Yup?" He barely gets the word out.

"Happy birthday."

Chuck flips his phone shut before Graham even has a chance to hang up.

"Something's wrong." Sarah says, and he turns around with a jump. He hadn't even heard her get up, move near him, and that he was that within his thoughts is terrifying. Her hands reach out and grasp his shoulders, and she leans in close. "What is it, Chuck? Tell me- is it Ellie, or Morgan-"

He shakes his head, takes a deep breath.
"Bryce destroyed it. He broke in and he downloaded it and sent it somewhere and he blew it up."

That Sarah's eyes widen in shock is also terrifying. She's Sarah Walker, she doesn't get surprised.
She knows about Bryce, Chuck's told her many a time in great detail just how very complicated his recruitment came to be. She said she'd never heard of him at the agency, never crossed paths with him, and Chuck had been glad. He feels even more glad now, since the guy seems intent on ruining everything Chuck can have, can work for.

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't- I don't know." He tries to keep his eyes from stinging with furious tears but he has no luck, instead wrenches his arm out of Sarah's grasp and swipes them away furiously with the back of his hand. He spins round, facing the desk he's got set up with his laptop, facing away from Sarah away from her concerned worried gaze because he's just so angry at Bryce right now and she shouldn't see him like this. "It's gotta be me, it's my fault, if it wasn't me who was gonna get the Intersect this never would've happened. He's got something against m-"
He stops. Abruptly. Something catches his eye.

"Chuck?"

It's strange. Staring at his desk, he can't help but frown. He blinks, pointing toward his computer.
"I left my laptop on last night, but... it's flickering." The little blue light on the side of the keyboard is shining off and on at intervals, little blips of a signal.

"What does that mean?" Sarah asks, sounding very confused. He understands why, really, he's just jumped from one thing to another, but he's suddenly convinced the two things are actually connected.

"...I have an email."
He didn't have any before he went to bed, and it's only 1am right now. He wonders...

He turns round to find Sarah still confused, arm reaching out to him, but she looks stunned too, like her mind is making the desperate connections his is and she's trying to rationalize it just like him. He blinks, though, and they both dive for the laptop.
It's slow, the computer groans from the sudden use, but he pulls up his emails soon enough, and there it is.

One waiting email, from none other than Bryce Larkin, is framed in the middle of the screen, pulsing like a cursor, with his old Stanford email address being the sender.

"Sarah..."

"Open it."

He does.
"Oh." he says, once the window has popped up. The message is blank, with only an attachment, no explanation, no greeting, no goodbye. Chuck reads the file, sees the format. "That's weird, it's... it's a Zork file? The hell are you sending me this for, Bryce-"

"Chuck." she says, insistently, and he nods.

"Fine, fine, I'm getting to it." His hands tremble as he slowly moves the mouse and clicks on the file, and it loads a little slowly. If this is what Chuck thinks it is, if this is where Bryce ended things tonight, then this whole assignment just got a whole heap more complicated.

The screen fades to black as the game fills it, words automatically typing out in text-based interface.

The terrible troll raises his sword

"What is that, is that a code?" Sarah asks, leaning over his shoulder, hand gripping his pajama shirt tightly. Her hair brushes his cheek and he catches the familiar scent of her favourite soap and somehow, it's that that reassures him he's not alone.

"Close, it's an old video game. Sarah, if... I mean, Bryce wouldn't steal and destroy the Intersect just to send me a video game this long after I spoke to him, I- If this is what we think it is, if I-" He leans heavily on the desk, palms pressed against the space either side of the laptop, keeps his gaze on the floor and tries to keep his breaths long and slow and controlled. Tries to keep the frustrated tears from burning his eyes again because this night is just too much and it's only 1am. "Why would he do this? Why would he steal it just to send it to me anyway? Is he... is he trying to frame me, or...? Or help me?"

Everything Bryce did, back then, at Stanford, he said he did it to help Chuck. But after all this time?

He feels the gentle pressure of Sarah's hand, rubbing a soft circle onto his back.
"What do you want to do?"

That's the million-dollar-supercomputer-question, he supposes.
"I wasn't 100% sure until I got that call from Graham, but... I want this. I'm the only one who this works for, I'm the only one. Either I do this now or the past half a year has been a waste, and the world gets more dangerous. Sarah, I- Bryce shouldn't have sent me this, he broke in to destroy the Intersect only to send it where it was gonna go anyway. He must not know I'm on the project, if he sent it to me, he doesn't know. Sarah if I take this-" He shouldn't. He should call it in, report it, clear this mess up. But if he answers this riddle, and if the Intersect is behind this wall of code, he gains control. He gains the upper hand. Graham and Beckman might still give him orders, true, but with the main computer destroyed, Chuck would be the only Intersect they'd have. There'd be no backup, no spare computer to upload into the next willing subject if they ever get fed up of him, no extra one to fall into enemy hands. They wouldn't risk him so much, wouldn't send him on dangerous red ops, risk the team, he'd be far too valuable for that. There'd be no experimental whims to fall to, and he wouldn't just be the guy the government used. He would be Chuck Bartowski, Charles Carmichael, the human Intersect. The only Intersect. But he shouldn't. Rules, protocol, training, right now they rear in his head, reminding him he really shouldn't. "What should I do?"

Sarah tugs on his shoulders, pulls him round to face her, and though her moves are sharp, when she reaches up and cups his face, oh, it's so slow and gentle and tender he almost breaks down again.
"Do what feels right. You're you, you're Chuck Bartowski. Turning your back on what you believe in now, that wouldn't be you. You want to help people, right?" He nods. "So don't give up on what makes you great."

"But Beckman a-"

"We can think of something, some explanation. If you want this, and- and I think you do, I'm here, Chuck. Always."

He reaches for her, grasps her shoulders and pulls her in tight and kisses her fervently, strong. It's that night they met all over again, in her hotel bar, the fire rising within him, the heat between them, the steadfastness that would not abate. It's that night in Kentucky, that night in Indiana, that night after the ring base, that day in a hospital in Venezuela, it's every single kiss every single moment. He feels every curve of her, the warmth, the softness of her skin, the taut muscles under his touch, he pulls her close and tastes her and tastes her until he just has to pull away.

"Always." he breathes, with a nod, and she steps aside, letting him turn back round to the laptop. His mind is made up.

"You, uh, you might wanna look away," If he had a pair of sunglasses right now, he'd give them to her just like she'd had them for his tests and prior uploads, but her avoiding looking at the program will have to do.

With a cute little smirk, she stands right next to the laptop, facing him, whatever may be behind this screen firmly out of her field of vision.
Chuck can't help but think, he wants this. He wants to keep saving the world, on his own terms, with Sarah by his side. And so he leans back down to the keyboard, with steady hands this time, and slowly types the familiar phrase.

Attack troll with nasty knife

He takes one last look up at Sarah, sees her warm open eyes, her small little smile, and right there, he knows no matter what happens with this, he'll be okay. He really will.

Looking back at the screen, he reaches out, takes a deep breath, and hits enter.

a/n 2: And that, dear friends, is that. Breathe it out.

I know, a cliffhanger, gah! But I felt that was in line with the show, lol, though it's a little less cruel than some the writers dealt us with, ahem. This chapter was a beast, I can't even remember how long it took me to write it, but I wanted to resolve every issue I felt would crop up with the Intersect appearing in this Chuck's life and every problem he'd faced before. Ellie, and properly writing her into this, Sarah and her relationship to Chuck, how that fits in with his life as a spy, how he'd get the Intersect through proper channels, briefings and meetings, or if he'd get it at all if he could decide on that. But then what would happen if Bryce still acted the same, the idea of Chuck always being destined to meet the Intersect at some point. It was a lot to pack in. I hope you agree with or understand the decisions I had them take, and the choices they made to get there. If not, that's cool.
I'm sorry that I have no plans to continue this universe, really, no ideas for a sequel, though as I mentioned near the start, I have been deliberating writing maybe a companion piece from Sarah's point of view. There's absolutely nothing planned for that either, though, and since it took me over a year between initially writing all of this and posting it, maybe you'll just have to keep your eyes out and see what I might come up with.

However, I just want to say thanks! Truly. This is only my second Chuck fic, ever, and even when I'd written stuff before it was nowhere near something like this, on this scale, with these crazy crazy word counts (I still don't know how I write so much, ngl), and I genuinely had no idea if any of this would be enjoyable to read, or realistic, or in character, or anything. And the reception it's got has been more than I'd ever thought I'd get, you've been kind, patient (mostly, which I say with affection, I think), and mainly just responsive with your reviews and alerts and words, which is the best possible thing for any writer to get. This has been quite the experience, and I've honestly loved it, seeing all your thoughts, but mostly seeing the love so many of us still have for our little old show, which is at the heart of any fic here.
I don't know when I'll see you next, but I'm at least taking a couple weeks off, lol, somehow even editing stuff for one post a week is tiring. Mad mad respect to all of you out there putting out your own work at super speeds—posting this today coincided with my final day of classes for this year, so I'm looking forward to having more time to read stuff! But, I've got some more mostly finished fics of my own written and just waiting for some TLC before they might ever reach your eyes, some totally totally different to this, so hopefully I'll be back, here, someday. Until then.

-Kiera :)