Scene LXXIII – Casa Bartowski

Chuck lay on his bed, his arms behind his head. He could still taste her on his lips. Occasionally, a lingering tremble or shiver shot through his system as a particular memory of their moment haunted him.

He still couldn't believe she had kissed him. He let out a disbelieving laugh.

When she hadn't shown up for dinner, he had written her off as gone. The same held when she showed up at his door, completely uncertain of what to say. She generally knew exactly what to say, unless she knew what she had to tell him would hurt him. This time, it had been the opposite.

She had kissed him, deliberately and passionately. He was still so stunned by it that his mind couldn't really wrap around it. There were so many questions, not the least of which was, "How the hell could I sleep with your sister one night and have you kissing me the next?"

Those questions could wait for another day. What mattered was that she kissed him … and the way she had kissed him.

He closed his eyes and savored another flashback of their bodies and lips pressed together. This time, a contented sigh escaped him as his eyes opened with a dreamy, satisfied look.

The only fly in the ointment was Casey. The apartment was bugged, and Chuck understood that it could get bad if Casey found out that the two were involved. He would feel obligated to report it, and the last thing Chuck wanted was for Sarah to get reassigned.

As much as it had hurt, after a brief, hushed conversation he had given her an all-too-short good-night kiss and watched her head over to Casey's. In a way, it was good that she couldn't stay. It would have felt odd to spend the night with Sarah the night after he had slept with Carina.

He missed Sarah terribly, but it was a much, much different feeling than while she had been off on her other mission. He wanted to call her, to talk to her as she drove home, to hear her voice. He wanted to tell her about the mission, and how badly the team had functioned without her, and how he had discovered the hidden passage that had saved the day. However, Casey could figure out what was going on even from that type of cue, so any type of communication with Sarah was out, for now.

Patience was going to be the hardest part, especially for him.

Still, he was a man who spent the evening waiting to say goodbye, so he found it reasonably easy to be content with what he had: the memory of an electrifying kiss and the comforting knowledge that he would see Sarah again tomorrow.

He stared at the watch she had given him for a long time. He felt a bit guilty that he had given up on her last night and that he had struggled to trust her at other times.

Chuck vowed not to make that mistake again.

He closed his eyes with a smile.

Scene LXXIV– Casey's Apartment

Casey, arms folded, towered over Sarah in the center of his apartment. "All right, Walker, time to come clean. Why the hell are you staying in Los Angeles?"

For her part, Sarah seemed completely unfazed by Casey's manner. "I decided this was the better assignment for me."

His eyes squinted. "C'mon, you had a chance to go after Fulcrum. Answering to nobody. Going deep undercover. How could you pass that up?"

"Just because that's your dream mission doesn't mean it's mine."

"So your dream mission is working at the Weinerlicious and guarding the alpha nerd of the local Buy More?"

Sarah, her face the picture of calm, explained, "It's the best use of me right now. Replacing me would mean taking a chance that the new agent had Fulcrum ties. It would damage the cover, because we'd have to find a way to introduce somebody new into Chuck's life. Not to mention that we don't know how Chuck would react to a new handler. He can be a little flaky at times."

"No argument there. But can you look me in the eye and tell me that the decision had nothing to do with Chuck?"

"Of course not," she shrugged.

"What?!"

"There's more than one way to go after Fulcrum. How many times have we defused a Fulcrum plot because of Chuck? How many criminals have we discovered, and apprehended, because of the Intersect? It's critical that we keep Chuck in the field, and I know you'd agree that there's a good chance that he would fall apart or end up in a bunker somewhere if you or I left. We have a rapport and a trust that's taken months to build up, and you can't replace that overnight.

"The DoD needs Chuck in the field, and Chuck needs me here, just like he needs you here. Putting any other agent on this case would be a big mistake."

He stared her down for a long moment, as she knew he would. She almost had him believing, at least as much as he ever would believe. It was a perfectly reasonable argument.

Still, his expression remained dubious. His eyes narrowed. "What about Chuck's little crush on you, or your feelings for him?"

"What about them? You mentioned that he slept with Carina last night, right?"

Casey had gleefully told her that little tidbit almost as soon as she arrived; his face fell when she told him that Chuck had described the "fireworks" the previous night. Casey had obviously wanted to be the one to tell her.

"He seemed to be heading over there, and he didn't get home until the middle of the night, so that seems to be a reasonable assumption." Casey's face betrayed the slightest hint of irritation, along with something else.

Jealousy, maybe? she wondered to herself. Interesting. He's probably just jealous that Carina only tied him to bedposts while she actually slept with Chuck, although Lord help me if John Casey has any type of real interest in my sister.

She set that aside. "I think it's safe to say that his crush on me is pretty much done. Chuck isn't exactly the type to sleep around. As for me, I think the past two months have shown that my personal feelings, whatever they might be, are no issue. I told you I would make things right, and I have."

"So what did you tell him?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. 'I'm back', 'I'll be staying', 'I wanted to tell you in person', 'I need to go get some sleep', and 'I'll see you tomorrow'. Listen for yourself."

Again, he tried to get her to reveal something by staring her down; he was unable to get her to break. His face finally told her that she had him. "OK, Walker. Back on our regular schedule tomorrow?"

"Sounds good. I'm going to get some sleep."

"I'll see you at 0800."

With a friendly smile, she walked to the door and let herself out of his apartment. After the door shut behind her, her smile vanished. She allowed herself a quick, longing look at the light in Chuck's window before forcing herself to turn and walk to her car.

In some ways, nothing had changed: when she really wanted to be with Chuck, she couldn't be with him. She sighed.

Her face became pensive as she left the courtyard. She would need to be very careful around Casey. She corrected herself: they both would need to be very careful around Casey. She and Chuck were already planning on having a long conversation tomorrow at lunch. There were details to be worked out, and Chuck was going to need a crash course on how to keep the truth from Casey.

Sarah wasn't sure if she was fooling herself about the prospect of keeping their romance hidden from him. While her decision hadn't exactly been impulsive, she certainly hadn't worked through all the details yet. There were so many things to worry about - but not tonight.

Tonight, she was going to relive every last second of their kiss and savor every last emotion that the memory elicited. She was going to wrap herself in the knowledge that she would see Chuck again tomorrow. She was going to anticipate the way he would look at her when she saw him tomorrow, and the person that she would see reflected in his eyes.

Sarah's grin unconsciously reappeared in full force as she floated back to her car. Chuck's expression from just after their kiss dominated her thoughts and was unknowingly mirrored on her face.

Her cheeks already hurt from all her smiling.

Back in the apartment, Casey sat down in his recliner, replaying the conversation in his head.

He wasn't buying it.

Walker had cobbled together a reasonable story for why she had returned and had delivered it masterfully to him. As always, he was impressed with her performance. She was certainly excellent at her job.

Then again, so was he.

He had seen the hurt in Bartowski's eyes firsthand when Casey let it slip that Sarah was off with Bryce. Casey had seen the confusion when he told Chuck that Sarah was coming back. The crush wasn't over, unless Carina had somehow screwed it out of him.

General Beckman had filled him in on the details of Walker's choice. The two of them had already been discussing what would happen when, not if, Walker left for her new assignment with Larkin. Both Beckman and Graham would be surprised by her decision.

He frowned as he thought it all through. He had to concede that it was possible that Larkin and Walker had some type of lingering friction between them. It would be entirely professional of Walker to turn down the mission because of those concerns and just like her not to reveal those issues to Casey.

Also, would she really be fine with Chuck hooking up with Carina if Sarah had feelings for the guy? Casey expected her to fly completely off the handle at the news, but if there was any lingering resentment, she was certainly hiding it well.

Theoretically, her story could be on the up-and-up. He needed to confirm what why she decided to return. He thought for a moment.

Sarah's arrival did not trigger the motion sensor devices on the property, but she had been known to avoid them on other occasions. As an agent, dodging known motion sensors became instinct. He couldn't read anything into that, especially with her just returning from the field.

However, the surveillance equipment was still in place in Bartowski's apartment; there might be something there. Casey slipped on the headphones and flipped the switch to turn on the receiver. He scanned back to about half an hour prior to when she must have arrived, listening to the audio from the bug by the front door.

In the background, he could hear the sounds of the sink running and dishes being cleaned. The two Bartowski's and the future in-law talked as they worked. Walker wasn't coming. Bartowski was sad. Maybe she had a good reason to miss dinner. Blah blah blah. He forced himself to listen to the blather in case anything was revealed.

The recording started to register static. The doorbell rang.

Bartowski opened the door. The listening device near the door registered nothing but white noise.

Conveniently, when Sarah had arrived at the Bartowski's that night, the listening device near the door had malfunctioned.

Pretty clever, Walker, he grudgingly conceded.

Standard CIA issue for a mission abroad was an anti-eavesdropping device built into the cell phone. The cell phone still worked, but anybody who tried to eavesdrop got nothing but static. That would affect the devices that he had planted. Sure enough, the three devices in the main living area registered nothing but white noise.

Walker could have forgotten to disable the device when she returned. That gave her deniability.

Once again, he wasn't buying it. She was too thorough for that. No matter: she wouldn't be able to use that trick again.

Given the length of the static on the recording and the fact that none of the other devices were affected, he was able to ascertain that Walker had only stayed for about fifteen minutes and had never set foot in the house. He was disappointed when Bartowski went directly back to his room without talking to his sister; he could have easily given something away there.

No matter. Walker may be able to hide things from him, but Bartowski was a terrible liar. Casey would find out the truth from him the next day.

Scene LXXV – Caracas, Venezuela, Bar

Bryce Larkin sat alone at a bar, decked out in black shirt and black slacks. He leaned on the bar with his left arm, making a bitter face as he drained the amber liquid from an old-fashioned glass. He placed the glass on the counter next to two of its brothers.

"Dos mas, por favor," he ordered the bartender. He caught the bartender disdainfully shaking his head at the way Bryce was putting away the bourbon, but he really didn't care.

As he waited for his order, he thought about what Sarah told him before she left. Her arguments about why she was heading back to Los Angeles had been fairly convincing, almost reasonable.

Trouble was: she was lying. At least, she wasn't telling the whole truth.

During the trip, he caught her unconsciously fiddling with her heart-shaped necklace a few times when she was lost in thought. Ever curious, he had examined the necklace while she was in the shower the day she left, finding the picture of her and Chuck inside, along with Chuck's note.

No, this wasn't just about the mission for Sarah. She wasn't any good at talking about her feelings, but she wasn't much better at hiding them, certainly not from him. He knew her too well.

Sarah wasn't going back only because she thought Chuck needed her protection. It was more than that. Consciously or not, she was going back because she thought she had feelings for Chuck.

Sarah really should have known better than to mistake her feelings for her asset for something real. Maybe this was just her way of running away from him again: Chuck was a great guy, but hardly the type to appeal to a hardened agent like Sarah. Or had the last six months created more distance and doubt between them than he had thought?

It really didn't matter. He needed her back. Out in the field, Sarah was the only one he could trust. He needed his partner back. He was even willing to admit that he wanted his lover back.

He could feel the job slowly eating away at him. It had already cost him far too much; he wasn't ready to surrender more without a fight. Sarah would help.

The bartender placed two more glasses on the bar in front of Bryce. Bryce picked up one of the glasses and raised it into the air. "Sorry, buddy," he said softly, before taking a long sip.

He would find a way to make Sarah his again. It wasn't over.

Scene LXXVI – Darkened Office

A soft tone and a small pop-up window announced the incoming email. The note was quickly launched in a new window.

Drew Jennings had sent a lengthy message: seven pages about various Congressional matters, ranging from farm subsidies to tax reform to fundraising. As always, the truly important information was buried about 80 of the way through.

Do you remember when I asked your advice about how to stand up for people in your district? Well, I've been standing up for a businessman named Jamie Veron for some time now; the DEA seemed to be after him for no good reason. Today I found out that the DEA was right: he is a major drug dealer, and now the DEA has him in custody. Any advice on how to manage the situation? This could come back to haunt me during the elections.

The shadowy figure slammed the desk in frustration.

It had taken a long time to get Veron in place, and even longer to get the DEA on a short enough leash that Veron had the freedom to do what Fulcrum needed him to do. If Veron was gone, a major cog in their operations was gone.

Veron had been handing funds out to five different Fulcrum cells. Two of those cells were now gone: Tommy and his crew, and Gomes and his crew. Now the funds for the other three cells were gone as well, crippling their West Coast operations until they could find a new way to get money to them.

Between Veron, Tommy, and Gomes, American agents had disrupted their operations three different times in the last four months. How was that possible?

Fulcrum needed to know.

The figure pressed 'Reply' in his email client and started typing, the clickety-clack of the keyboard dully echoing off the walls.

Regarding Mr. Veron, only by learning from the mistakes of history can we prevent from repeating them. I would review everything that happened to learn how anyone could have seen this coming. My only other recommendation: try to stay out in front of the issue. I'll be happy to discuss this with you, if you feel it would be useful.

The figure re-read the paragraph and was satisfied. Jennings was reasonably bright; he would pick up on the instructions to use his position on the Select Committee on Intelligence to secure any information on the arrest as soon as possible and pass it along. As Veron was doing business in his district, it wouldn't look too odd for Jennings to be interested in the report.

Pulling open a drawer, the figure checked that the report on Tommy's arrest was still safely tucked away. It was probably time to get the report on Gomes' arrest so that the three reports could be compared side-by-side to determine any common factors. Maybe then there would be something that Fulcrum could do to stop the bleeding.

Ed. Note – thus concludes another really, really long story. Thanks for your patience; it's difficult to write something this long and this complicated and keep the flow going.

For anyone who has followed this story, I'd like to ask something in return: please take a few minutes to drop me a PM about what you think about the final product. It can be anything, from the style to the balance of characters to word selection to the scenes you thought worked or didn't work. I love criticism, so don't worry about mincing words.

The only payback I receive from writing these is words of appreciation and things that readers tell me that can help me to improve my skills, so I would greatly appreciate a few minutes of your time. Thanks!