Path of Decision, Part 1

As history proved, there was no such thing as an easy decision for military leaders. Wage war, or pursue peace? Send loyal soldiers into the unknown, suspecting a trap, or let an enemy take advantage while you were busy planning your next move?

But there was one thing for sure – you needed savvy people within your decision process if you wanted a great chance at succeeding. That had always been the first and foremost requirement of leadership.

Governing the NGA was no exception. Since his appointment to SOCOM, Major McQuaid had proved to be one of many such individuals. Admiral Kernan knew of him from the brief time he served under his best friend and mentor, VADM William Garrison. He highly doubted the man would lead him astray, especially in a chaotic situation like this.

"Your assessment, then?" he asked, feeling weary.

Disapproving eyes with the color of shallow sea water stared him down. "I am afraid to say this, Sir, but this organization seems to have people everywhere and they are much more entrenched than I initially thought. We don't know why they are after the Intersect in the first place, but it can't be good. It's definitely not good for the kid."

"What about the rogue operative you captured earlier?"

"Jonas Zarnow. One of the NSA's leading scientists who belonged to the original group assigned to work on the Intersect. Unfortunately, he had an escape route ready and I missed it, despite spending decades dealing with scumbags like that." Kernan could see that McQuaid was feeling miserable and guilty even though he tried his best to maintain his professional facade. His head hung low in shame as he spoke in a serious tone, "Still, there are a lot of people working for this organization. If you are still willing to give me a chance, I promise to come up with a better strategy and not get torched like this ever again."

"It's alright, Major. It's partly my fault as well. I should have seen it coming before making Chuck part of all this in the first place," Kernan retorted in a grim tone. He had no idea how deep this splinter cell actually ran within the Intelligence Community and it was bound to rear its ugly head sooner or later. "Should I consider pulling Charles into WITSEC?"

McQuaid instantly gave him a look of disapproval. "My professional recommendation is to let him learn from his current scenario, to experience the realities of being on missions and finally to accept this way of living."

"That wasn't the question." It was indicative of Kernan's healthy respect for the highly decorated soldier standing in front of him that there was no discernible irritation in his voice.

McQuaid didn't seem to care much right now, the disapproval giving way to visible antipathy. "Again, the best course of action, given these unique circumstances... is to let him function as the host of the government Intersect, at least for the time being."

"Why do you think that?"

McQuaid pinched the bridge of his nose. Efficiently getting to the heart of the matter can be done with tact, Michael thought, exasperated.

"Placing him in protective custody is simply untenable. That would only invite more unwanted attention from this organization and there is no guarantee it would be an effective countermeasure against people who were able to bring Zarnow into their fold. There is no way out for the kid until we arrest each and everyone of these scumbags."

Which is an issue on its own, Michael thought with a sigh. Even as an analyst, Chuck was a prodigy on a different level, even compared to his father; his pedigree would likely exceed Orion's in the long run. He feared that his fellow agency heads were also aware of that, and their thoughts weren't exactly charitable when it came to the host of the Intersect(s).

"I understand this isn't what you originally had in mind when you suggested Mr. Bartowski as the new architect for the Intersect AI, but you know what they say about best laid plans," Major McQuaid replied, a sardonic smile splitting his lips.

He had intended to keep the boy away from these situations ever since he learned of their connection; but at the end of the day, he ended up pushing him to the frontline. He expected much of the boy, and not just because he was a genius unlike any other - he certainly was - but because he was also his very own flesh and blood. To learn about his sister's children had rekindled a dying flame within him and he made a foolish mistake out of his desire to show everyone what Chuck was truly capable of. Of course he knew the risks, but he never imagined that Chuck would unintentionally download the same Intersect he was supposed to work on, exposing him (further) to the CIA and NSA. Especially when he was barely a year away from his retirement.

"Less of a mess and more of a puzzle." Michael sighed loudly and tiredly whispered, "If anything, we should be celebrating you catching Dr. Zarnow red-handed before he could cause any more damage to our intelligence community."

"And yet neither of us are celebrating, Sir."

"I have been told I have trust issues."

McQuaid slightly narrowed his eyes. As he and Kernan could attest, the life of a soldier was kind to no one. "Do you sense something amiss, Sir?" he asked out of curiosity.

"I sense nothing. Therein lies the problem."

Ah. When all else failed, when information was exhausted and no longer reliable, all a spy could rely on was their instincts. "The facts, then."

"This operation had been going smoothly for two years and we successfully kept knowledge of the original Intersect under wraps without much difficulty. The moment I brought the NSA into the picture, this splinter cell learned of our involvement with the Intersect, then managed to track down one of the CIA's top intelligence officers using her cover identity. I don't know what to make of those two agencies right now."

"I believe the safest hands are our own. It's better for everyone involved if we investigate this matter unilaterally and not spread word of Zarnow's demise. It's also in our best interest not to reveal knowledge of Mr. Bartowski's other Intersect to anyone." McQuaid paused, the silence laden with meaning. "That means postponing its removal from his head for the foreseeable future. Better if he chooses to keep it on a semi-permanent basis. I concede his status as the government Intersect host will keep him busy for a very long time, but a highly-trained individual like him won't take long to adjust to standard missions."

Michael frowned a bit. He had been presented with an impossible choice; one he never should have had to make. He hated being responsible for putting a member of his family in an extremely compromising and vulnerable position within the government for the sake of protecting the greater good. Nonetheless, he was the Director of the NGA and hadn't acquired that position by making emotional snap decisions.

"Understood. Thanks for your work, Major. That will be all," Kernan said, dismissing McQuaid.

He seemed a bit uncomfortable with not saluting, but the Admiral was in his civilian attire. And just like that, McQuaid silently left the small chamber, still ruminating his failure to capture Zarnow alive as the rogue scientist's last words continued to linger in his mind.

...xxxxxx...xxxxxxxx...xxxxxxxx...

It felt like the beginning of a very beautiful morning. The sky was clear, the sun shone brightly and a gentle breeze was blowing through the city, causing the trees to dance and sway. It was the kind of day most people would feel blessed to be alive to experience.

Chuck Bartowski wasn't that kind of person. He had never really been a morning person. It was a well documented fact that he liked to sleep in as late as possible and get up well after the sun had risen. At least until someone woke him up.

On a side note, considering who often woke him up back then, his wake up calls usually ended up making him extremely hot. And sweaty. And horny.

Is it healthy to think about another woman at a time like this?

As he woke up, he found Sarah was facing away from him, still blissfully asleep. Her pale blonde hair gleamed in the morning sunlight and contrasted sharply with her tanned skin. Her face was merely two inches away from his. His arms were around her, holding her close. Sarah's left arm was around his head, while her right hand was placed on his chest. One of her legs had hooked itself around his right leg sometime during the night, trapping it between her thighs, which put him in an extremely compromising situation.

There was a weird feeling in his chest as he felt the desire to lightly brush the silky strands off her face but he immediately snapped out of it. Abruptly facing the other direction, he let out a silent groan.

So far, she has found it easy to compromise since none of us are yet to commit anything worth losing. But that might not always be the case. Darn! It's never easy for these spies to make up their damn mind and decide what's really important to them.

He shouldn't have reacted so strongly to her. He didn't want to because she had yet to make a real choice. And that clearly frustrated him to no end. He couldn't decide whether his feelings towards Sarah were a good thing or a bad thing.

It was natural, though. She was strikingly beautiful; easily one of the most beautiful – and deadly – women he'd ever laid his eyes on. It almost hurt to stare at her, constricting his chest. Physical attraction itself didn't mean much to him. That was simply biology. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was the fact she craved his company so much and simply took this assignment to be around him which got to him. The reality was they were no longer purely friends, but weren't quite close enough to go steady. Chuck felt he should at least try and see if he could spark something stronger between them. Maybe even something more permanent, if she was willing. It seemed she was already halfway there; the problem was whether he could get her to finish the journey. However, given how high-strung and stubborn these clandestine types could be when it came to their duties and obligations... he couldn't help but feel that someone just dropped a monumental mountain in front of him.

The logical and rational part of his brain still warned him against that idea. It didn't seem like a wise decision to make in a situation like this. Then again, rejection and failure were part of every innovator's life. If he couldn't accept and move past these emotions, or at least use them as a way to motivate him to work harder, then he had no right to call himself a proper one. Besides, getting dumped always made men of science stronger.

Hehe, if life really worked that way, I would have transformed into a Super Saiyan by now.

He couldn't help but laugh to himself, withdrawing from warm memories of the past. His thoughts turned to his companion. He could feel soft and smooth skin on every part of his body, which coaxed a little smile from him. Definitely unexpected. It had been a while since he shared his bed with someone. He was by no means a pervert, but he felt comfortable sleeping with her. If it wasn't for her, he'd have undoubtedly spent the entire night looking into FULCRUM. His current knowledge of them was woefully inadequate, but he knew a few names.

Tommy Delgado, Alexis White... Yari Demetrios.

Unbidden, a frown crossed his nearly twenty-six year-old visage. Had he looked in the mirror, he would have wondered who was staring back. What did these people have against him? What had he ever done to them? Nothing. And now General Beckman wanted to sequester him because of them. They had ignored him when he got the O Intersect; why couldn't they just do the same this time around and let him live his life?

Back in those days, he had plenty of time. His path had been fairly clear-cut - study the Intersect, de-construct it, analyze every single aspect of it and, ultimately, figure out how to remove it. They were all milestones on his grand journey.

Now though, he wasn't so sure. He had to survive what FULCRUM and other belligerents would throw at him. In addition, neither Beckman nor Graham seemed like the patient type, and they lacked the empathy his boss had. Once again, he had been forced to deal with things way above his pay grade.

He sighed heavily.

Besides, as much as he enjoyed having a supermodel cuddling him in bed, he knew he should probably get up, cook breakfast, take a shower and prepare himself for whatever the CIA and NSA might throw at him.

Chuck attempted to gently release Sarah's hold on him, trying his best not to wake her up. As soon as her grip was slightly loosened, she immediately countered by tightening her hold on him. He tried to extricate herself from her extraordinarily strong grip several times, but she just wouldn't budge.

"Don't leave, Brian. Please don't leave." She was mumbling in her sleep, her head gently coming to rest against his neck, her forehead nuzzling back and forth against him.

Closing his eyes, Chuck's face softened and he sighed in resignation. He could feel the ache in her voice, the desire to be held in her former lover's arms once again.

She hasn't come to grips with what happened... I wonder if she will ever come to terms with Bryce's unfortunate demise and what he tried to do before that.

He couldn't even fathom what she must have gone through since Bryce died as a traitor to his country. The only thing he could even remotely compare it to was the nasty break up he recently had with Lou. But as far as he could tell, she never betrayed him to work for an evil rogue spy outlet.

"You are one troublesome woman to figure out, Sarah Walker," Chuck mumbled in amusement, his lips curling upwards in a small smile. He pushed a few silky strands of her platinum blonde hair behind her ear, and cupped her cheek. Sarah unconsciously smiled at the contact.

He felt the beast inside his belly growling, demanding food. Who knew cuddling with someone could make one so hungry? He really needed to get out of bed and make some breakfast but how the hell was he supposed to do that when Sarah was holding him with such an unbreakable grip? Suddenly a light bulb went off in his head as he took a bunch of pillows, including the one he slept on, and placed them between him and Sarah. Then he loosened her hold on him and instantly rolled out of her grasp. Thankfully, she didn't notice the loss of bodily warmth as she continued hugging the pillow, though Chuck could tell she looked a bit displeased.

He moved his legs over the side of the bed with the grace of a ballerina and stood up, making sure the floor didn't creak once his feet landed on the ground. Sarah still hadn't woken up, so Chuck decided to tuck her in. After pulling the covers over the blissfully asleep CIA operative, he glanced at her once more before making his way out of the room.

...xxxxxx...xxxxx...xxxxx...

Sarah's nostrils twitched as the aromatic scent of food wafted towards her. Opening her eyes blearily, she stretched her arms with a yawn. She soon realized where she was and why.

Oh yeah! I talked with Chuck last night, we made out a little then I asked him if he would hold me till I fell asleep.

She originally intended to do a lot more than just sleep beside him, but she was overwhelmed by the warmth he emitted. The sensation was like a warm and comforting blanket wrapped around her. Last night made her realize why he made such a great impression on her back then, something which lasted for years.

Sadly, all the men who happened to be greatly involved in her life – be it her own father or Langston Graham – turned out to be narcissistic bastards only interested in using her as a means to an end; sometimes as a blunt instrument, but usually as a surgical instrument to achieve their own personal goals and ambitions, and never as a fellow human being with her own set of values, principles and dreams. Chuck was a different case altogether. It wasn't just about him being cute, smart, thoughtful and everything; there was also the fact his sister raised him right. She taught him morals that kept resonating within him no matter how badly he got shafted by the world. That was what she admired about him the most.

And speaking of Chuck... Sarah turned her head to look around and blinked when she couldn't find him. Her nose twitched again as she inhaled the scent of breakfast being cooked. She didn't know what it was, but it smelled pretty good.

He must be the one preparing food.

Wondering what he was cooking for her, she swung her legs over the side and stood up. She stopped near the wardrobe, picking up a random tank top and putting it on. Slightly fixing her messy bed hair, she exited through the door and started climbing down the stairs which led her to the kitchen. She craned her neck to see the very person she had been hoping to run into. His hair was wet and matted down a little, though surprisingly it still appeared to be a bit wild and unruly. Sarah could tell he just got out of the shower. And he was only wearing a pair of track pants, allowing her an unfettered look at his torso.

It was one thing to feel his body while she lay with him, but it was another to actually see the physical proof of how physically fit the young man in front of her truly was. Due to her heightened emotions and the sense of urgency, she hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of his powerful frame. Needless to say, it completely blew her mind to see how much bigger and stronger he had gotten physically. Her jaw almost dropped in surprise.

In comparison – despite being robust and extremely able-bodied, Bryce was a man of androgynous beauty. As much as she hated to admit it, he was probably the prettiest man she ever encountered. Then there were the muscle-bound brutes like Casey whose veins were hard to miss. But Chuck was different. Unlike Bryce, who lacked some muscle mass, the GEOINT analyst's body was packed with perfectly defined muscles. His pectorals, despite being considerably smaller than those of meatheads who spent all day in the gym, appeared to be quite hard and firm, as if they were miniature bricks. Even his serratus anterior muscles on either side of his torso seemed perfectly developed.

Sarah found herself checking him out and couldn't believe how incredible he looked without his shirt on. She never knew someone so intellectually gifted could turn out to be so ripped. In addition, he was well over six feet tall. The straw that broke the camel's neck was seeing him in possession of those V-cut abs; many of her fellow peers had tried – and failed – to gain them. It wasn't the kind of muscle mass one could gain with simple gym work. Chuck must have gained them through countless hours of hard work and extremely rigorous training.

In short, Chuck Bartowski was incredibly aesthetically pleasing to her eyes.

Why did he go to such lengths to acquire that physical definition in the first place, though?

These muscles weren't only for show; they were meant to be used in a fight. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to endure the beating he took from Mauser as much as he did, or use parkour to somersault his way through an open window, allowing him to reach that bomb in the hotel, outpacing two well-trained and highly decorated federal agents without even breaking a sweat.

This guy just kept getting more and more interesting.

She gulped and blushed. Chuck really was making her nervous. He got more handsome as time went by and it had been a while since taking a simple glance at someone made her breathe heavily. Sarah was finding it hard to concentrate as she turned away from him muttering a "Damn!" under her breath, biting her knuckles.

Upon hearing her footsteps behind him, Chuck turned around, a bit surprised at seeing Sarah standing behind him. Her cheeks were rather red amidst her tan complexion. She actually looked a bit bashful which confused him a bit.

"Good morning, Miss Walker. I hope you don't mind. As a minor token of gratitude for saving my life yesterday, I present to you..." Chuck then continued to stir his recipe on the frying pan, which happened to be a cheesy pizza with scrambled eggs, bacon and tomatoes, "...one of my best creations since I arrived in DC. I call it the Bartowski Delight," he declared in a jovial tone while spreading pizza sauce over the dough.

"That's... a good surprise." She nodded rather weakly. Sarah didn't seem as if she was paying attention to what Chuck was preparing for her. She was still impressed with his figure, given her eyes remained transfixed on his rock-hard abdominal region. "I had no idea the NGA paid their analysts to achieve ten-packs nowadays," she smirked, giving him a mischievous stare.

That was when Chuck realized he had no shirt on. He was extremely embarrassed. "Oh sorry!" He proceeded to go to a random chair where his shirt sat on top.

"No no no! That's okay!" she quickly replied. She scooted to him and pressed herself against his back, then wrapped her arms around his torso and placed her chin on his shoulders as she looked over him from the side. "I can get used to a guy who knows how to work hard." She cleared her throat, her voice being husky despite the alertness of her eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a pleasant warmth spreading through him.

Chuck realized she had gotten closer to him once again. It also looked like she was in the mood for something other than breakfast. I am not exactly comfortable with that, though. He had to change the subject. He didn't want to take advantage of this situation; the discussion they had last night and what transpired early in the morning was still fresh on his mind. It wasn't time for them to go down that path.

Trying his best to regain composure, Chuck cleared his throat and focused on beating eggs and water with a wire whisk in a small bowl. "Sorry for bothering you, Gorgeous," he spoke in a sheepish tone as he looked over his shoulder at Sarah. "Can you help me prepare the table? The plates and silverware are in the lower cabinet." He nudged his head to the left and continued, "Ah, I am almost done with this."

"It's fine. Anything for a friend," she whispered to him in a seductive and tempting voice, then slowly traced a circle on his chest with her finger and walked towards the cabinet. He finally sighed in relief. Things were getting really uncomfortable with Sarah hugging him from behind. It wasn't that it didn't feel nice – it certainly did – but the way she talked and pressed herself against him with her impressive bust was a bit too stimulating for his taste, physical proof of which almost revealed itself before she (thankfully) released him from her embrace.

After making sure the crust was crisp and eggs were set in the center, he cut the pizza into slices and placed them on each plate Sarah held in front of her. She was back in his personal space leaning towards him a little, but enough that if she lost balance, she would end up on top of him. She stared at him with a dizzy, mesmerized look, then coyly bit her lip.

He gave her a questioning look. She was acting really weird right now.

After a moment, Sarah stepped backwards and stood a few feet away from him. Her lips were set in a teasing smirk as she placed the plates on the dinner table before turning back to him. "Oh, sorry. I was just stretching. I have a really sore back these days," she added playfully, one of her hands threading its way into his hair. "Spies have to be in tip top shape all the time, you know." Her tongue was caught between her teeth as she grinned cheekily at him.

"Umm... make sure to take good care of yourself. My life practically depends on it," Chuck replied nervously, his voice almost squeaking near the end. Wanting to spare himself any further embarrassment, he brought their attention back to the food, trying his level best to change the topic of conversation. "Here you go. A pizza loaded with colorful veggies, two different types of cheese and topped with scrambled eggs. No olives, just the way you like it," he declared jovially with a proud grin.

"Y-you remembered?" Sarah asked in awe, feeling touched and surprised at the same time as she moved back to the dinner table.

"I'm an analyst. I'm supposed to be good at remembering stuff," Chuck replied, barely withholding a smirk. After retrieving two glasses from the cabinet and a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, he poured the lemonade into each glass and walked towards the dinner table, pulled the chairs out and passed one of the drinks to Sarah without a word.

Sarah winked at him, taking a bite of her slice of pizza. "Don't sell yourself short. You are pretty good at that." She then raised her eyebrow, curiosity dawning in her expression. "Can I ask you a question?"

Chuck snorted, barely withholding a smirk. "Agent Walker, asking me for permission. That bad, huh?" he lightly teased.

"Maybe. How in the heck... did you learn to move and fight like that?" Chuck could tell Sarah was eyeing him impishly. He looked at her but she quickly looked away, pretending not to have done so. "Not that I am complaining. I just... think I owe you a debt of gratitude. If you didn't have those amazing reflexes, you might not have been able to take on Mauser's squad like you did back then."

Chuck went silent for a moment. "Oh! I joined the Krav Maga classes 'cause my former roommate at WSU suddenly got fascinated with all the kung fu stuff... probably after watching the new Jackie Chan movie that came out back then. He begged me to come along as emotional support. He also told me it would be good for my self-esteem. You know... the whole "perfection of body leading to perfection of mind and soul" sort of stuff. The first few months were, well, quite frankly, they were disastrous. But eventually, I realized that I really hated losing to my friend. So I started working super-hard to make sure our spars always didn't end with me losing."

He rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile. He couldn't really tell her that he had to be in near-perfect shape in order to properly utilize the original Intersect's highly complex battle moveset, since working for the NGA didn't require any special physical skill. He had to divert her attention elsewhere. "Though I bet Captain Awesome could have handled himself a lot better in my situation. He is a certified instructor, after all. I mean... that's how he met Ellie in the first place."

"Wait, you seriously call him Captain Awesome?" Sarah asked incredulously. She took another bite of the homemade pizza, which turned out to be delicious with a capital D. Indeed, Chuck was no slouch when it came to cooking and she quickly took a mental note of that fact, adding that to the ever-increasing list of his good qualities.

"Yeah, but it kinda makes sense. Just wait till you actually meet him. Everything he does is awesome – signing up for the California National Guard, climbing mountains, jumping out of planes, snowboarding, scuba diving, flossing."

Sarah laughed a little upon hearing his explanation. Only Chuck Bartowski could come up with something like that. "Of all the places I would have thought we'd meet again, work was the last one. Actually, it wasn't even on the list."

"Yeah, I figured that too. It's pretty cool you are a spy though," he continued, grinning. "I always knew you'd be a badass. So being a secret agent working for the government – what's it like?" he asked, infusing a bit of wonder and awe into his words.

Sarah stilled for a moment. Even so, her face betrayed little surprise, like she had been expecting this question from him sooner or later.

Chuck could see the wheels turning in her mind. No doubt she was selecting her words carefully.

"Being a secret agent is like being a..." She searched her brain for the perfect analogy and eventually her lips curled into a small smile. "...superhero."

Chuck's face lit up upon hearing that.

"It's exciting. It's fun. You get to go on all these adventures and do amazing things," Sarah said, her eyes looking into the distance, voice growing impassioned. "You visit all of these beautiful places all around the world, doing your part in making this country a safe place from terrorists and criminals alike. But I had never counted on the price you must pay in order to do all that."

She trailed off, getting sidetracked for some reason. Chuck frowned a little upon seeing the sudden sadness wafting across her face. It felt as if a wall was cracking and fissuring under the pressure of a great weight.

"It's just hard to see whether I have made a real difference by committing all these distasteful and repugnant acts on a daily basis, all for the greater good. I know some of them were absolutely necessary, but more often than not, I can't help but wonder if I had been nothing but an unquestioning tool used by my superiors to further their agenda, which I fervently hoped tied with that of our government. Otherwise, there would be no justification for all these compromises I had to make to reach this point in my adult life. Sometimes I can't help but feel the world is just inherently evil, filled with all the same characters who suck the life and hope out of good people just for their own sadistic pleasures. At times, there seems to be no end to all these same recycled conspiracies and cliche villains who want to vent their frustrations by wiping out civilizations. I clean up one mess, only to find another one waiting for me around the corner. It's just so tiring."

Her head was bowed low, not meeting his gaze, as if she didn't have the strength to do so. She looked so small and vulnerable, and not like the ferocious woman who saved his life back in the parking lot. The strength which had drawn him to her in the first place was missing; her bright blue eyes were full of pain.

"Chuck, the life of a field agent isn't as rosy as the movies depict. Do you know how it feels to always want to be one step ahead? That one step turns into two, and then ten. In the end, you are just too far ahead. By the time I came to realize it, I could no longer stop. In future, if you see me doing things you don't like – and I am quite certain you will, more often than not – bear in mind that it's because I can no longer stop."

With a dejected sigh, Sarah slumped against her chair, her words hanging heavily in the air. He knew she was telling the truth by the look in her eyes.

Chuck quickly regretted asking her that question. He should have known better, given her deep-seated issues stemming from parental abandonment and non-existent self-worth. This whole thing with Bryce turning traitor and ultimately succumbing to a fellow federal agent didn't help much with the psychological trauma she might have suffered.

"Hey." He put his hand over hers, looking at her intently until she finally met his eyes, surprised to see him giving her an understanding smile. "I think you need to lighten up a bit about your job as a federal agent. Sure, I don't like the way I have been dragged into the spy world but that doesn't mean I don't respect what you do for a living." Sarah swallowed slowly, thoughts racing through her head at a million miles a second, trying to understand what Chuck was just saying to her. "I get it. Being a spy sucks. They take your rights away the moment you sign up for this job. Even before all that, you had to do things for your father that you never thought you would have to. Sure, you have done bad things and hurt people that didn't deserve it... but so what? Everyone in this world is vain, selfish and damaged more or less. No one out there is a saint. But people who are truly evil only know how to make use of everyone around them and prey on them. Those that want to look after others still have some hope."

"Why do you have that much faith in me?" Sarah couldn't wrap her mind around what he just told her. Nobody in her life had ever cared about her that much.

Chuck smiled faintly at her, though it didn't reach his eyes this time around. "Let me tell you something a very good friend of mine taught me a few years back. It's not what you do that matters, but who you are inside. You went to Harvard and joined the CIA because you wanted a new lease of life. To be a better person than the conwoman and schemer your dad turned you into. So I'd like to think, deep down, you always wanted to live as a decent person."

"That was back then. You have no idea what kind of... thug I have turned into. There is much that I deserve, but a second chance isn't one of them."

Chuck gave her shoulder a tight, affectionate squeeze. "Well, I know better than anyone how a total fluke can change your life. I believe that someday you will be able to reclaim your life and get a chance to turn everything back. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I am pretty sure that will happen sooner or later. Just because you think there is no coming back from this life, doesn't make it true. There are ways to fix things that you feel can't be fixed. So stop being all upset about something that really doesn't matter right now and start living a little for yourself."

If Sarah had feelings for the brown haired young man beforehand, those feelings had just grown a lot deeper. She had never met anyone like Chuck before. Someone who was selfless and righteous, someone who cared so much about others, and someone who saw past her external identity as a CIA intelligence officer and acknowledged her existence as Sarah. She was very happy to finally have someone like him in her life who cared so much about what happened to her. This feeling of being genuinely adored by someone... made her feel warm all over. At the same time she couldn't help but feel trapped and burdened by her spy life more than ever, thanks to the long-suppressed emotions running rampant inside her head, making her want to do things and think things she normally never would. She knew very well that last night was a deflection on her part, which Chuck thankfully never called her out on. But she sure as hell wasn't close to being emotionally ready to fully embrace those feelings that had long lain dormant in her and let them get in the way of her assignment. Especially when Chuck's life practically depended on it.

"Is there anything on my face? You've been staring at me funny." Her thoughts were broken as she heard Chuck speak, only to meet his questioning gaze. It was then she realized she had been staring at him for quite a long time.

"I-It's nothing," Sarah stuttered as she blushed profusely, quickly averting his gaze. Usually she was the one who got reactions from other people, but now she tasted her own medicine, having finally met someone that could set her heart aflutter and make her blush like a lovesick girl. It was uncharacteristic of her. However, she quickly paraphrased something a friend of hers had once said to her what seemed like a lifetime ago. Something she had ingrained in herself and repeated in her mind whenever foolish notions of contacting him crept into her thoughts.

Someone like him doesn't deserve having people like us in his life at all.

Meanwhile, Chuck just looked at her with a confused expression. Had he said something wrong to her, again? Then she stood up all of a sudden, appearing as if she was in some sort of daze.

"Could you just say something?" Chuck whispered. He was greatly troubled by her deafening silence.

There was so much she wanted to tell him but couldn't. If Graham and/or Beckman ever got wind of her true intentions behind taking this assignment, they would interpret such things as being unsuited to the job. Part of watching over a human intelligence asset like Chuck was the exit strategy. And one exit strategy required a willingness to ensure that said asset was eliminated rather than allow an enemy to take him alongside all the secrets he held inside his brain.

If she were to veer too far from what Graham considered necessary to make Chuck more amenable and co-operative to whatever the government might ask of him down the road – if she were deemed unwilling to take such a shot – they would replace her with someone who would. And she told herself maybe she would... only if the situation arose where Chuck had a fate far worse than death waiting for him. Only if he happened to be in a situation where he would be going through excruciating torture for a long time before ultimately dying anyway.

But she found it hard to even hold such thoughts in her head in the first place, making her even more upset and angry with herself. And if she couldn't sell it to herself, she'd never be able to sell it to Graham or the NSA's burnout assassin living next door . If she wasn't careful with how she conducted herself around Chuck, they would easily see through her professional Ice Queen facade sooner or later. If she was yanked away to an assignment to Mongolia, she would lose the chance to have any semblance of a relationship with Chuck in the first place. She didn't want to go back to who she was before she met him. That was her biggest fear. In order to remain around Chuck, she needed to protect herself from becoming lost in the version of Sarah Walker who wanted what she wanted.

She leaned closer to him, their faces practically only millimeters away. "I, uh..."

"Yes?" Chuck waited.

"Thank you," she finally said and went away looking completely upset, leaving the extremely baffled human Intersect behind.