Howdy folks. I am new here, and even if I wasn't, I wouldn't own Chuck! So, first Fanfic. Have at ye.

Chuck Vs. the Postcard

Doctors Ellie and Devon Woodcomb arrived home from their honeymoon one week to the day after their successful second wedding ceremony and reception.

Some ten minutes after arrival, they discovered the postcard, and Ellie let out her patented squeal of joy.

The card was from Barcelona. Sent by Chuck. He and Sarah had left, spur-of-the-moment, for the Europe trip that Ellie's kid brother had always wanted. They'd be back in two more weeks.

Ellie was beside herself with excitement. (So was Awesome, though his image of what Chuck might be doing was a tad different, based on recently-gained insight that he could not share with his new bride.)

First leaving the Buy More, now this. Chuck was growing up, and grabbing the life that Sarah's presence seemed to promise. Ellie reminded Devon that Chuck had often talked about this trip. His requirements had been a place with sun and fruity drinks. She was sure that those had been met, but even better, Chuck and Sarah were there, together. Chuck in Europe. An achieved dream that Ellie had always wanted for her brother.

And if Chuck had been in Europe, he no doubt would have agreed with Ellie.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Washington D.C.

Well, it was sunny, if a bit on the humid side.

Fruity drinks could be purchased in the local night spots, if Chuck had been allowed to go to them. Or drink.

However, Chuck Bartowski had given no thought to weather or alcoholic beverages. He was in too much physical and emotional discomfort to do so.

Physical, because of the damage he – and the Intersect, let's not forget the Intersect, shall we? – had done to his body during his impromptu martial arts demonstration on Ellie's wedding night. Pain killers had taken some of the edge off, but even so. He was in a wheelchair for the time being, and although the physicians had assured him that he would heal from all of his injuries without permanent damage, Chuck found that hard to believe. The one bright spot was that he had gotten over his fear of needles – like that! He had never imagined that he would be asking – begging – for shots. However, waking up in the middle of the night, moaning in agony, had a way of changing one's perspective. Especially when injections could get the pain relief in your system that much faster.

Emotional, because… the most important person in his life wasn't there. Ellie would be upset to learn that Chuck and Sarah were not together, but of course, Ellie's feelings were nothing compared to her brother's.

Chuck Bartowski had plenty of rough weeks in his adult years. As dangerous as his life had become in the last two, he never felt he would experience a nadir such as that when his best friend got him kicked out of Stanford, then his girlfriend dumped him, apparently for the same best friend. Yeah, those were tough weeks. Weeks that took him five years from which to recover, incidentally, because of actions taken by the same best friend.

Even so, Chuck was starting to think that this last week might give those weeks a run for their money.

Everything went to Hell when the best friend had died. Well, Bryce Larkin was no longer Chuck's best friend – hadn't been for some time. Bryce had betrayed Chuck, manipulated him, destroyed him, and put the lives of Chuck and his family in danger.

Apparently, though, this was all for the best of causes.

Chuck had only recently learned some more back story about Bryce's motivations, but he would never hear the rest.

Because Bryce died in front of Chuck.

And then…..

Chuck had made a decision.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

"You uploaded it? Charles…. Why…why in God's name did you do that?"

Stephen Bartowski was speaking in a loud whisper, but the expression in his face indicated that he was barely holding back screaming his question.

A grunt from above made Chuck turn his head to face Major – No, Colonel John Casey.

The large man looked down at Chuck with his usual menacing glare and muttered, "I would also like to know the answer to that question… Charles." The tone on the last word felt insulting, and normally, Chuck would have expected Casey's mouth to draw up into an evil grin, whenever he got the chance to throw out an insult. But Casey wasn't smiling.

Chuck felt somebody else looking at him. He turned around to look at the woman who mattered to him most. Her back was turned, looking at Bryce's body. Had… had she been looking at Chuck just now? It felt like….

"Charles, answer my question, damn it!"

Chuck turned back to his father. The older man looked desperate. In pain.

Well, Chuck could appreciate pain. Right now, he was in more than he had ever previously experienced in his life. It was making it hard for him to think straight.

"Dad….. I'll be nnnn happy to answer your question, but I could…. Really…. Stand to be….. put unconscious… right nnnn now."

Chuck looked up at Casey, hopefully.

Casey raised an eyebrow, then said, "Much as I'd like to beat you down most of the time, I think you're gonna have to hold off until you give your old man and me a little info."

Suddenly Sarah was by his side. Hadn't she just been…?

She produced a hypodermic. "This will help alleviate some of it, Chuck. It's a needle, and I know you don't like-"

Chuck groaned. "Are you kidding? Give it here!"

Sarah's face was impassive. She injected the medicine.

Chuck felt some relief within minutes. It wasn't perfect but it definitely helped. Chuck was going to thank Sarah, but she had already turned back to Bryce. Chuck pursed his lips. Well, there was nothing for it. He turned back to his father, whose gaze had never left him.

"Answers, Son."

Chuck tried to shrug, then the pain shot back into him and he moaned.

OK, no shrugging.

He thought about what his father and Casey were asking. And the horrible truth was…..

Chuck wasn't really sure why he had done it.

After he had beaten up the Ring spies, the kung fu knowledge disappeared from Chuck's consciousness.

Unfortunately, the resolve and reason for his action seemed to go with the kung fu.

Chuck recalled walking from Bryce's body in a daze.

He had been instructed to destroy the new Intersect, and he was going to do it. Then Chuck had seen the "Activate" prompt and the hand print pad. Then those memories came into his mind, almost like…. Flashes.

And I don't know why Bryce did this…

You can do anything….

It's time for you to become a spy….

How many times do you have to be a hero before you realize you ARE that guy?

All of those images had combined into a sudden certainty and resolve for him then. He knew what he had to do.

And he did it.

Unfortunately, that certainty and resolve was gone. So when he gave the answer to his father and Casey,

"Dad, I did it because it had to be done. It was the right thing to do."

His voice felt… flat. Devoid of conviction.

Suddenly, Chuck had that feeling again of being watched. He turned to look at Sarah, but her back was again turned.

DAMN IT!

Chuck's father didn't immediately respond, but Casey did.

"He… did save our lives through his actions, Mr. Bartowski. If he hadn't – well, it's almost a certainty that Agent Walker and I would be dead or captured and that the enemy agents would have secured the Intersect for their own purposes."

Under any other circumstances, a statement like this from John Casey was virtually unheard of and would make Chuck swell with pride. However, he was swelling too much already to be able to do more, anyway; his father didn't appear the least bit proud or satisfied, and Sarah – Sarah might as well not even be in the same room as him.

Stephen Bartowski rubbed his hands over his face. "OK, I…. I just wish that this hadn't happened. Everything that was done to get that thing out of your head. And… and I'm not the one who put all those modifications in there so between that and the actual cube being destroyed, it may be difficult to get this Intersect out… but I swear to God, I won't stop until we manage it, Son."

Chuck paused, then said quickly and firmly,

"Dad, I think I need to keep the Intersect."

Something crashed behind them.

All three of them turned. Chuck saw Sarah, a tray of metal supplies at her feet. She was looking straight at him.

Her eyes… He had never seen this kind of… horror… in her eyes.

"Sarah?" Chuck whispered it. He didn't know what to make of what was going on. But, that look….

She turned and quickly exited the room. She didn't look back.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

He hadn't seen her since.

They hadn't spoken.

The next few days had him in and out of the hospital, seeing his father, seeing Casey, seeing Beckman.

He was sent to D.C. almost immediately. Not a bunker, thankfully, though he couldn't get any guarantees from anybody that wouldn't happen.

Still, Chuck was given help in writing the postcard for Ellie. It said he'd be back in two weeks. So… that seemed promising. Well, unless he was meant to die in "Europe". Maybe him and Sarah both. Not a pleasant thought. A terrifying thought, actually. He tried not to dwell on it. In fact, impending assassination was less scary for him than the thought of never seeing Sarah again, and he was starting to see that outcome as likely.

The only thing anybody would tell him was that she had gone to Cabo to scatter Bryce's ashes. No funeral for Agent Larkin. Bryce had already had one, even though he hadn't actually been dead then.

Chuck was hurt, of course. He would have liked to say his goodbyes to Bryce, and to honor him. He felt that he had the right to be there. Instead, he hadn't even been told that it was happening, until after it was too late.

He was hurt that Sarah hadn't told him. That she hadn't wanted him there for support.

Over the past few days, Chuck had a repeated thought that Sarah had blamed him for Bryce's death. That Bryce dying had convinced her that Bryce, indeed, had been the one.

Chuck thought about this quite a bit, actually, in a futile effort to keep the truth about Sarah's actions from the surface.

She had looked at him… like a freak. Maybe that's the way she saw him now.

Even that painful thought wasn't the real truth.

They had put in so much effort. She had almost sacrificed her career and her freedom to help liberate Chuck from the Intersect.

And he had thrown that back in her face. (And at the faces of Casey and his father, too.)

All this time, he had talked about wanting a normal life, and now, he wouldn't give up this thing in his head.

It wasn't a surprise that she would despise him. It wasn't a surprise… that they all would.

Whenever that truth would come to the surface, Chuck would do his very best to go to sleep… so he wouldn't have to think about it.

Sleep wasn't too hard to come by. The muscle relaxers made him quite loopy. The fact that he was able to form coherent thoughts in the first place was miraculous. But, the thoughts were there, all the same. He could only imagine the level of despair he'd be feeling once he was completely drug-free.

The answer he had given his father, about needing to keep the Intersect. He had spoken with conviction then. Without even thinking about it.

Why was that certainty something that only came by reflex? Why couldn't he be sure when he had time to put a thought together?

So passed five days.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Chuck didn't even realize she had returned until Casey wheeled him into the conference room.

Well, he thought it was her. Her back was turned to them, and although she was dressed the part, Chuck couldn't help recall the brief mistaken identity when he had first encountered Agent Forrest.

"Sarah?"

His voice was a mixture of hope and desperation.

She turned around. It was her! Chuck couldn't keep himself from grinning. She looked...

His smile faltered. She looked... practically right through him.

"Hello Chuck. Casey." No warmth, there. None.

He had to find a way to salvage this. He was about to open his mouth to do so, when he was interrupted by General Diane Beckman crisply walking into the room.

"All right, let us proceed!" The General sat down at the head of the table, and briefly eyed each of them, before continuing on.

"Well, given the events of the prior week, I think it will be no surprise to any of you that Project Bartowski has officially been reopened, albeit with some necessary alterations.

Due to the compromising of the Castle, we have had to dismantle it and will have to re-establish it elsewhere. Similarly, I don't think we will have any of you returning to your prior cover employment."

Chuck and Casey breathed simultaneous sighs of relief at that one.

"We are in the process of developing a new cover employer, one in which all three of you will be together under the same roof, allowing necessary time for testing and training of the new Intersect without risk of further revelation. Given that this Intersect has properties yet to be fully realized, I'm sure you all understand why security is more important than ever. Yet, a bunker will not be the best way to ensure the effectiveness of this asset."

She looked at Chuck when she said that, but chose to ignore it when he groaned out profuse thank-you's.

Beckman continued. "That being the case, once a location has been finalized, we will maximize security by having Agent Walker and Mr. Bartowski live together."

Chuck gave a questioning grunt that had Casey nodding in approval.

Sarah's body stiffened at this latest piece of information, something that wasn't lost on anybody in the room.

Beckman looked at her. "Something to say, Agent Walker?"

Sarah spoke, her voice almost in a monotone. "Unfortunately, General, I am afraid that I must take this opportunity to request reassignment."

Chuck's mouth turned dry, as his stomach dropped through the floor. Oh no. Ohnonononono.

Beckman's expression was stony. Well, it was usually that way, but even so.

"I see. And would you please elaborate as to the reason for this request, Agent?"

Sarah continued in her cold, dead voice. "Mr. Bartowski and I have developed inappropriate romantic feelings toward each other, and I am thus compromised, unable to effectively meet my responsibilities of protecting him, thus placing him and the project at risk."

He couldn't believe it. She was saying this in front of him? How could she be doing this? The air grew hot and stale. Chuck was having a hard time catching his breath. His fingers felt numb. He thought he was going to throw up.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Casey's. Casey was being supportive? CASEY? Well, that was something anyway. If the two women in the room were aware of Chuck's distress, they certainly weren't showing it. Neither of them even put a glance his way.

Beckman's look didn't change. She didn't look surprised. At all.

She paused for but a moment before replying, "Request denied, Agent."

Sarah didn't move, or seem to react to this. But Chuck did.

He leaned forward as far out of his chair as he could without tumbling over, and yelled,
"Hey, HEY! If she doesn't want to be here, LET HER GO!!! I DON'T WANT TO BE AROUND HER!" His voice was catching.

Sarah didn't turn around. Beckman spared Chuck a glance before calmly saying,

"Colonel Casey, please remove Mr. Bartowski from the room, and get him something to help him calm down."

Chuck looked wildly between the three of them – his gaze lingering on Sarah's back.

Casey moved forward, his voice soft but firm, "C'mon, Chuck."

Chuck shook silently for a moment. Then he slowly pulled himself back into his chair. He stared at nothing as Casey wheeled him out of the room.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

During this entire incident Sarah and Beckman hadn't taken their eyes off each other.

Once the door closed, Sarah spoke quietly.

"I think this illustrates fairly well, the problem, and the reason for necessary reassignment."

Beckman smiled. Thinly. Coldly.

"In spite of what you and Colonel Casey may think, Agent Walker, I am not stupid or the least bit gullible. The only reason you aren't in prison or an unidentified body is because I let you get away with it, and accepted the silly story the Colonel came up with. But I never once believed it."

Sarah kept her expression neutral.

Beckman added, "I've known about your little thing with the Asset long before I had you evaluated. Ultimately, I've let you keep on what you were doing because as the three of you have shown again and again, that you could achieve results."

Sarah responded, "That was only dumb luck. Our feelings for each other have nearly led to disaster on multiple occasions, and could have gotten him killed! You... You would have been right to imprison me."

She looked down at the table. "Or worse."

Beckman let out a disparaging laugh. "Well, maybe so. But I notice you didn't come forward until now. Until maybe things weren't going quite the way you were hoping they would." Beckman raised her voice. "Look at me, Agent Walker, I am making a point!"

Sarah raised her gaze back to the General.

Beckman continued. "You're just a cry-baby, trying to quit, because you can't handle it when things get rough."

Sarah just looked back in shock.

Beckman scowled.

"Well, I'm not letting you off the hook. You're not being reassigned, you're not going to prison, I'm not going to have you killed, and oh, by the way, you're not quitting either, if you're thinking of that. You're going to STAY on assignment and you're going to keep producing results; otherwise, Chuck is going to suffer."

Sarah's expression suddenly changed and her face took on a deadly cast. She whispered,
"Are you threatening.... to harm him?"

Beckman shook her head, her expression one of disgust.

"That man is one of the most important weapons this agency has at its disposal. Of COURSE, I'm not going to harm him! We need him! The person who is going to harm him - who is going to undermine EVERYTHING that we... and he... have accomplished is you... if you leave him."

Beckman paused, then growled, "And you know it."

The General added, "The truth is, if we could have avoided this nightmare - this thing between the two of you - we would have. But we didn't catch it soon enough and you weren't professional enough to recognize the danger and to get out when you should have. And now it is too late. Putting somebody new in right now to protect him would not work. He'd be damaged goods, pining... over you. We can't have that. You're going to work together. You are going to find a way to make this work."

Beckman stood up, gave one last look at the woman before her, and began to walk out of the room. Before exiting, she called over her shoulder,

"You made your bed Agent Walker. You know what to do with it."