Chuck vs the Appointment

[cast2007]

Chuck vs the Appointment

Summary: After the death of Sarah Walker, Chuck has served the Central Intelligence Agency as a spy for nearly twenty years. All he wants to do is retire and spend the rest of his life in peace and quiet. However fate has conspired otherwise.

Category: Angst/Drama

Disclaimer: I donÆt own Chuck. I wish I did though. That would be awesome.

March 20th, 2029

President Nathaniel Martin was not having a good day to say the least.

Polls were showing that his public approval rating was at an all time low, having come crashing down from his high of 75 percent to nearly half that.

At least IÆm not as bad as Nixon, Truman, or Bush at the end of their terms. He thought to himself. It was a small comfort to know that while most of the country disapproved about how things were being run, at least he wasnÆt the most hated President of all time. Speaking of past Presidents, if he didnÆt get things turned around he might become one after just one term.

The Republicans were in a prime position to take back the Senate during the midterm elections this year. Already in control of the House, the Republicans would gain control of the entire Legislative Branch. Were this to happen, the next two years of his Administration would have a hell of a time passing any of his proposed reforms.

The last thing he needed was a scandal. Which meant that not only did he get one, he got the worst scandal possible.

ôWhatÆs the latest on Franklin?ö

Until recently Charles Franklin was the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, the largest and foremost of AmericaÆs intelligence agencies. However just a hours ago, Franklin had confessed that he had misplaced one of the AgencyÆs computers containing classified information that not only included the details of the intelligence obtained by the CIA, but the identities and the locations of a sizeable portion of its covert agents those without the official cover granted by diplomatic immunity.

ôHeÆs under heavy guard at the moment Mr. President,ö his Chief of Staff Erin Gomez replied, ôwe have him under suicide watch.ö

Martin snorted. Franklin was a coward, always looking for the easy way out. He should have never listened to the Senate Majority Leader and the Chairman of the Democratic National Committee to appoint the man in the first place.

ôHow long until the press finds out?ö

ôEveryoneÆs keeping their mouths shut but I doubt that weÆd be able to hide it from the public much longer.ö

ôAny luck on finding the it?ö

ôThe FBI, NSA and the rest of the intelligence community are scrambling to find it as we speak sir.ö

ôTell them to double their efforts. I want that laptop found yesterday.ö

ôIÆll tell them that.ö

He sighed. One problem down another to go, ôwho do we have that can replace Franklin.ö

ôMr. President? Deputy Director Hayworth is now functioning as the acting Director. With his qualifications, heÆd be easily able to pass muster and be confirmed by the Senate.ö

Martin snorted. ôRobert Hayworth is the last man I want to be in charge of the CIA. The manÆs a nightmare.ö

A holdover from the previous Administration, Deputy Director Hayworth as a career CIA man and had served with the Agency for the majority of his adult life first as an analyst and then on to higher positions. Unfortunately his length of service was only matched by his partisanship. The man was a nightmare to work with, especially in joint operations with the other arms of government, especially the greater intelligence community as a whole.

With Hayworth it was always his way or the highway. If he didnÆt get what he wanted, like a five year old child he would threaten to withdrawal the support of his Agency and its resources. Martin remembered countless times that either he, Franklin, or Gomez had to put him in his place and remind him who exactly was in charge.

Martin was willing to bet money, marbles and chalk that if Hayworth wasnÆt there half of the problems plaguing the Intelligence Community would disappear in almost an instant.

ôMr. President, with all due respect we canÆt appoint a new Director from outside the Agency. The fallout from FranklinÆs bungle will demand that we appoint someone within the CIA.ö

ôI know,ö Martin. ôI have an idea about who I want for the job.ö

ôWhy do I have an inkling that IÆm not going to like this?ö Gomez asked rhetorically.

The Next Day

Bartowski Residence, Burbank

ôHoney! Wake up!ö yelled Michelle Bartowski.

ôWhaaà?ö groaned her husband, Chuck Bartowski tiredly as he moved slightly trying to remain asleep.

ôYouÆre going to be lake for work!ö She yelled, fuming. She loved the man, but sometimes she did wish he were a bit more responsible for once.

ôWhat time is it?ö Chuck asked as he sprang out of bed, now suddenly awake and running to the shower.

ôSeven forty five.ö

ôFrak!ö

Michelle could not but help but laugh. Her husband couldnÆt even bring himself to swear unless it was from science fiction. ôOnce a geek always a geek.ö

ôThatÆs nerd to you!ö retorted Chuck from the shower. If only they knew, he thought.

Fifteen Minutes Later

ôSo kids, what are you all doing today?ö Chuck asked as he munched on his cereal, fully immersed in his ægeeky dad personaÆ, as he called it.

While CIA policy allowed serving agents to disclose their true careers to their spouse and children, once they had reached an appropriate age of course. It wouldnÆt be good for your three year old to blab to their friends that their daddy was a CIA Agent, after all. Chuck had opted to keep his true career and activities secret. Reasoning, that it was better that his family remain ignorant of his true activities.

To his family and friends, Chuck Bartowski wasnÆt a veteran CIA Agent with over two decades experience in covert operations. Chuck Bartowski was just merely a simple information security consultant who had the unenviable job of going across the country to repair and fix corporate mainframes after they had been taken over by hackers.

According to his wife and kids, the biggest overgrown geek in the world. If anyone asked if Chuck Bartowski was a member of the CIA, theyÆd laugh in their face. To them he was a clumsy but loveable buffoon of a dad, incapable of anything remotely related to being a spy. And that was the way he liked it.

Maybe he should have told them he thought. He frowned the time for disclosure was long gone. As sweet and patient that Michelle was, he doubted that Michelle would forgive him for hiding a secret this big from her. The fact that her husband was not who he said he was, no matter what good intentions there were would devastate her and the children. For their sake and his, heÆd take his secrets to the grave and no one would be the wiser.

ôNothing just soccer practice dad,ö replied his son as he was buttering his toast, bringing him back into reality.

Fifteen year old Mark Morgan Bartowski was the eldest of his two children. At five feet eight, it was clear that he had inherited his fatherÆs height and lanky build. Chuck wouldnÆt be surprised by the time the boy stopped growing, heÆd tower over him.

ôWhatÆs a matter honey? You seemed lost in thought?ö Michelle asked, concerned.

ôNothing. Just thinking about the last job I had to do,ö Chuck replied.

ôAh the good old folks at LanTech having trouble again with theiràwhat do you call them?ö Chuck laughed mentally. Even after sixteen years of marriage, his wife was still completely ignorant of computers and willfully so, refusing to learn anything connected to his job. While a part of him was republished by his wifeÆs lack of interest in his æjobÆ, he did admit that this was

ôServers dear,ö he replied. ôStupid idiots still havenÆt updated their firewalls. Removing that virus from their entire system was a pain.ö

ôIt must have been horrible!ö

ôYeah it was,ö he replied. He couldnÆt exactly reveal that he had been involved in the defection of a mid level diplomatic official from the Russian Federation. It was the truth, well from a certain point of view according to the venerable Obi-Wan Kenobi. But nevertheless it was true; the job was a bitch and half.

ôAnd you Sammy?ö

Born fifteen minutes after her brother, his daughter had been surprise, albeit a very happy one.

Since he and his wife only expecting one child, they were completely unprepared for the arrival of a second.

When asked the babyÆs name, Chuck had insisted on the name Samantha Lisa Bartowski. Surprised at her normally easy-going husbandÆs insistence, Michelle had asked why he had chosen that name. Chuck quickly told her that he liked the name and had always wanted to give the name to one of his children.

After all, Chuck couldnÆt tell her the truth. It didnÆt take a master spy to know that his wife would not take it well that he had named his only daughter after the woman who had stolen his heart, CIA Agent Samantha Lisa Watterson, more commonly known by her alias Sarah Walker who had fallen in the line of duty long before his daughter had been born.

Chuck knew that despite his dearest wishes, Sarah was dead and had been that way for nineteen years. He had realized that and accepted it years ago. Naming her after Sarah wouldnÆt bring her back. His daughter and Sarah were nothing alike; after all they were two different people. However by naming her after Sarah, it was his hidden way of honoring and remembering the woman who he had loved so dearly.

ôIÆm going to be brining home Devin to meet you,ö his youngest told him nonchalantly, either not knowing or caring that those words struck fear into the hearts of fathers worldwide.

ôAnd who is this Devin?ö ChuckÆs eyes narrowed.

ôDaad,ö she said stretching out his name in exasperation, ôremember I told you last week. HeÆs my boyfriend.ö

ôReally,ö he said flatly. WeÆll see about that. There was no way in heaven or earth that he would let his daughter start dating now. She was way too young.

His wife shot him a warning look. He frowned. TheyÆd talk about this later. ôWell kids, have a good day at school,ö he said as he got out of his chair.

ôBye honey,ö his wife said as she kissed him before he went out the door.

 

[crazyfoxdemon]

It's interesting... I assume Chuck will be appointed the head of the CIA... If so, how do you think his family will react? I mean he's essentially lied to them for years....

 

[cast2007]

Yeah. It's not going to go over too well with his family.

However I think the fact that he named his daughter after the woman he loved is probably not going to go over well either.

 

[crazyfoxdemon]

However I think the fact that he named his daughter after the woman he loved is probably not going to go over well either.

True enough, but I don't think that's as likely to come up...

 

[Frank Cadena]

The defection brought to mind "The Cardinal of Kremlin". The story sounds good but I do wonder what happened to John Casey and how Sarah died. Hopefully you'll include that down the line.

 

[cast2007]

Don't worry. You'll find out how she died. I'm going to be doing a lot of flashbacks in this fic.

 

[cast2007]

Here's a polished up version. I need a beta. Anyone interested?

Chuck vs the Appointment

Summary: After the death of Sarah Walker, Chuck has served the Central Intelligence Agency as a spy for nearly twenty years. All he wants to do is retire and spend the rest of his life in peace and quiet. However fate has conspired otherwise.

Category: Angst/Drama

Disclaimer: I donÆt own Chuck. I wish I did though. That would be awesome.

March 20th, 2029

President Nathaniel Martin was not having a good day to say the least.

Polls were showing that his public approval rating was at an all time low, having come crashing down from his high of 75 percent to nearly half that.

At least IÆm not as bad as Nixon, Truman, or Bush at the end of their terms. He thought to himself. It was a small comfort to know that while most of the country disapproved about how things were being run, at least he wasnÆt the most hated President of all time. Speaking of past Presidents, if he didnÆt get things turned around he might become one after just one term.

The Republicans were in a prime position to take back the Senate during the midterm elections this year. Already in control of the House, the Republicans would gain control of the entire Legislative Branch. Were this to happen, the next two years of his Administration would have a hell of a time passing any of his proposed reforms.

The last thing he needed was a scandal. Which meant that not only did he get one, he got the worst scandal possible.

ôWhatÆs the latest on Franklin?ö

Until recently Charles Franklin was the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, the largest and foremost of AmericaÆs intelligence agencies. However just a hours ago, Franklin had confessed that he had misplaced one of the AgencyÆs computers containing classified information that not only included the details of the intelligence obtained by the CIA, but the identities and the locations of a sizeable portion of its covert agents those without the official cover granted by diplomatic immunity.

ôHeÆs under heavy guard at the moment Mr. President,ö his Chief of Staff Erin Gomez replied, ôwe have him under suicide watch.ö

Martin snorted. Franklin was a coward, always looking for the easy way out. He should have never listened to the Senate Majority Leader and the Chairman of the Democratic National Committee to appoint the man in the first place.

ôHow long until the press finds out?ö

ôEveryoneÆs keeping their mouths shut but I doubt that weÆd be able to hide it from the public much longer.ö

ôAny luck on finding it?ö

ôThe FBI, NSA and the rest of the intelligence community are scrambling to find it as we speak sir.ö

ôTell them to double their efforts. I want that laptop found yesterday.ö

ôIÆll tell them that.ö

He sighed. One problem down another to go, ôwho do we have that can replace Franklin?ö

ôMr. President? Deputy Director Hayworth is now functioning as the acting Director. With his qualifications, heÆd be easily able to pass muster and be confirmed by the Senate.ö

Martin snorted. ôRobert Hayworth is the last man I want to be in charge of the CIA. The manÆs a nightmare.ö

A holdover from the previous Administration, Deputy Director Hayworth as a career CIA man and had served with the Agency for the majority of his adult life first as an analyst and then on to higher positions. Unfortunately his length of service was only matched by his partisanship. The man was a nightmare to work with, especially in joint operations with the other arms of government, especially the greater intelligence community as a whole.

With Hayworth it was always his way or the highway. If he didnÆt get what he wanted, like a five year old child he would threaten to withdrawal the support of his Agency and its resources. Martin remembered countless times that either he, Franklin, or Gomez had to put him in his place and remind him who exactly was in charge.

Martin was willing to bet money, marbles and chalk that if Hayworth wasnÆt there half of the problems plaguing the Intelligence Community would disappear in almost an instant.

ôMr. President, with all due respect we canÆt appoint a new Director from outside the Agency. The fallout from FranklinÆs bungle will demand that we appoint someone within the CIA.ö

ôI know,ö Martin said, trying to reassure her. ôI have an idea about who I want for the job.ö

ôWhy do I have an inkling that IÆm not going to like this?ö Gomez asked rhetorically.

The Next Day

Bartowski Residence, Burbank

ôHoney! Wake up!ö yelled Michelle Bartowski.

ôWhaaà?ö groaned her husband, Chuck Bartowski tiredly as he moved slightly trying to remain asleep.

ôYouÆre going to be lake for work!ö She yelled, fuming. She loved the man, but sometimes she did wish he were a bit more responsible for once.

ôWhat time is it?ö Chuck asked as he sprang out of bed, now suddenly awake and running to the shower.

ôSeven forty five.ö

ôFrak!ö

Michelle could not but help but laugh. Her husband couldnÆt even bring himself to swear unless it was from science fiction. ôOnce a geek always a geek.ö

ôThatÆs nerd to you!ö retorted Chuck from the shower. If only they knew, he thought.

Fifteen Minutes Later

ôSo kids, what are you all doing today?ö Chuck asked as he munched on his cereal, fully immersed in his ægeeky dad personaÆ, as he called it.

While CIA policy allowed serving agents to disclose their true careers to their spouse and children, once they had reached an appropriate age of course. It wouldnÆt be good for your three year old to blab to their friends that their daddy was a CIA Agent after all; Chuck had opted to keep his true career and activities secret. He reasoned that it was better that his family remain ignorant of his true activities.

To his family and friends, Chuck Bartowski wasnÆt a veteran CIA Agent with over two decades experience in covert operations. Chuck Bartowski was just merely a simple information security consultant who had the unenviable job of going across the country to repair and fix corporate mainframes after they had been taken over by hackers.

According to his wife and kids, the biggest overgrown geek in the world. If anyone asked if Chuck Bartowski was a member of the CIA, theyÆd laugh in their face. To them he was a clumsy but loveable buffoon of a dad, incapable of anything remotely related to being a spy. And that was the way he liked it.

Maybe I should have told them he thought. He frowned. The time for disclosure was long gone. As sweet and patient that Michelle was, he doubted that Michelle would forgive him for hiding a secret this big from her. The fact that her husband was not who he said he was, no matter what good intentions there were would devastate her and the children. For their sake and his, heÆd take his secrets to the grave and no one would be the wiser.

ôNothing just soccer practice dad,ö replied his son as he was buttering his toast, bringing him back into reality.

Fifteen year old Mark Morgan Bartowski was the eldest of his two children. At five feet eight, it was clear that he had inherited his fatherÆs height and lanky build. Chuck wouldnÆt be surprised by the time the boy stopped growing, heÆd tower over him.

ôWhatÆs a matter honey? You seemed lost in thought?ö Michelle asked, concerned.

ôNothing. Just thinking about the last job I had to do,ö Chuck replied.

ôAh the good old folks at LanTech having trouble again with theiràwhat do you call them?ö Chuck laughed mentally. Even after sixteen years of marriage, his wife was still completely ignorant of computers and willfully so, refusing to learn anything connected to his job. While a part of him was republished by his wifeÆs lack of interest in his æjobÆ, he did admit that it was helpful in maintaining his cover.

ôServers dear,ö he replied. ôStupid idiots still havenÆt updated their firewalls. Removing that virus from their entire system was a pain.ö

ôIt must have been horrible!ö

ôYeah it was,ö he replied. He couldnÆt exactly reveal that he had been facilitating in the defection of a mid level military official from the Russian Federation with intelligence containing vital information regarding their next generation nuclear submarines. It was the truth, well from a certain point of view according to the venerable Obi-Wan Kenobi. But nevertheless it was true; the job was a bitch and half.

ôAnd you Sammy?ö

Born fifteen minutes after her brother, his daughter had been surprise, albeit a very happy one.

Since he and his wife only expecting one child, they were completely unprepared for the arrival of a second.

When asked the babyÆs name, Chuck had insisted on the name Samantha Lisa Bartowski. Surprised at her normally easy-going husbandÆs sudden insistence, Michelle had asked why he had chosen that name. Chuck quickly told her that he liked the name and had always wanted to give the name to one of his children.

After all, Chuck couldnÆt tell her the truth. It didnÆt take a master spy to know that his wife would not take it well that he had named his only daughter after the woman who had stolen his heart, CIA Agent Samantha Lisa Watterson, more commonly known by her alias Sarah Walker. The very same Sarah Walker who his family and friends, save for a few believed died in a car crash but instead had fallen in the line of duty long before his daughter had been born.

Chuck knew that despite his dearest wishes, Sarah was dead and had been that way for nineteen years. He had realized that and accepted it years ago. Naming her after Sarah wouldnÆt bring her back. Nor would molding her to follow SarahÆs footsteps. His daughter and Sarah were nothing alike; after all they were two different people and as such should be free forge their own destinies. However by naming her after Sarah, it was his hidden way of honoring and remembering the woman who he had loved so dearly.

ôIÆm going to be brining home Devin to meet you,ö his youngest told him nonchalantly, either not knowing or caring that those words struck fear into the hearts of fathers worldwide.

ôAnd who is this Devin?ö ChuckÆs eyes narrowed.

ôDaad,ö she said stretching out his name in exasperation, ôremember I told you last week. HeÆs my boyfriend.ö

ôReally,ö he said flatly. WeÆll see about that he thought. There was no way in heaven or earth that he would let his daughter start dating now. She was way too young.

Besides with him gone the majority of the time, he was unable to watch over her in case something went wrong.

Why couldnÆt she be a late bloomer like him and start dating at 17? By that time, heÆd be out of the CIA and collecting his pension and free to scare the living daylights out of any of those little shits known as teenage boys, warning them that if they even looked at his daughter the wrong way, heÆd ensure that theyÆd never survive to see their next birthdays.

His wife shot him a warning look. He frowned. TheyÆd talk about this later. Later meaning, when the kids were out of the house and both he and his wife had time to think things through. ôWell kids, have a good day at school,ö he said as he got out of his chair.

ôBye honey,ö his wife said as she kissed him before he went out the door.

ôLove you,ö Chuck said. ôIÆll see you tonight.ö He turned to his daughter, ôI canÆt wait to meet this Devin of yours,ö Chuck replied in a tone that fooled no one.

 

[cast2007]

Here's chapter two. As always comments are appreciated.

Chapter Two

Valhalla Memorial Cemetery, Burbank

Jim Morrison, hummed softly as tended removed yet another weed from the tender grounds of the cemetery, listening to the soft rhythmic sounds of jazz.

Some people might have reservations in working in a cemetery. Especially when ones job required that they spend long hours in solitude with the deceased.

Not him. As a single father of five hungry kids and a house that needed its mortgage paid off, he couldnÆt afford to be choosy about what he could get. HeÆd gotten over his aversion long ago. Besides the hours were decent and the pay was good. He couldnÆt complain.

ôHey there,ö a voice said, interrupting his concentration.

Jim jumped up, startled. ôJesus,ö he breathed. ôItÆs you again,ö he said after he caught his breath. ôYou know itÆs not nice to sneak up on people.ö

Jim had been working at Valhalla for the last fifteen years and knew that the cemetery was host to a number of frequent visitors. Most of them were nothing special just your average grandparents, parents, siblings and the like grieving over the loss of their loved ones. Over time, most of them stopped coming having accepted and dealt with their grief and moving on with their lives.

However one stood apart from the rest.

Long before he had starting working there, every month sometimes twice a month a man would visit the final resting place of a Sarah Walker and place a bouquet of the biggest roses on her grave. It was a running joke amongst the staff that there were three things that one at Valhalla couldnÆt avoid, death taxes and the strange manÆs visits.

Like many of the staff, he wondered who exactly who this man was. No one had any clue to who he was. If he werenÆt alone in the cemetery, heÆd be indistinguishable and would be easily lost in a crowd.

The man wore no noticeable jewelry, had no facial markings or tattoos for that matter. The only thing that they knew was that he was male, middle aged and given by the clothing he wore, was somewhat well off.

The staff had a secret running game to guess who the man was. Some thought he was a mobster of some sort, while others thought he was a tragic lover. If you asked Jim, he wouldnÆt answer. It wasnÆt his business and he had enough on his plate than to worry about the identity of a mysterious patron.

The man gave him a wan smile, his arms clutching a large bunch of blood red roses wrapped with a black ribbon. ôWell since IÆve been here trying to get your attention for the last five minutes, its fair game.ö

ôWell in that case, I guess I deserve it,ö he sighed. Jim had a tendency to ignore everything around him when he was working.

ôIf you donÆt mind IÆd like to be alone for a while.ö

ôSure thing,ö Jim replied, ôIÆm a little hungry right now. Might as well take my lunch break early. How long will you be here?ö

ôProbably less than an hour.ö The man reached into his wallet, fishing out a hundred dollar bill, ôThanks for maintaining this place,ö he said offering it to him.

ôYou donÆt have to do this,ö Jim said, the man always gave him a tip.

ôIts fine,ö he said. ôPlease, I insist.ö

ôThanks,ö Jim said as he picked up his tools and left.


Chuck looked around making sure that no one else was around before pulling out what appeared to most people was a lighter.

In reality it was a highly sophisticated jammer. Designed by the NSA and CIA, the TX-900 was designed to take out the most sophisticated Russian and Chinese listening devices. Chuck didnÆt know exactly how it worked, but with the Intersect, the massive compilation of National Secrets in his head; he could readily access the information if he wished.

The device beeped, signaling that it had finished its work. Satisfied, Chuck quickly put it back in his pocket.

ôHey Sarah,ö Chuck said looking at the simple but lovingly engraved tombstone bearing the words.

Here lies Sarah Walker

Born February 15th, 1981 Died Mach 12th, 2010

You will always be in our hearts

ôItÆs been a while hasnÆt it,ö Chuck said simply, his eyes starting to mist up.

ôIÆm sorry for not visiting sooner, work has beenàbusy,ö Chuck stated, taking careful to make his comments as vague as possible.

Believing that the utilization of gathering intelligence via electronic means, namely satellites, wiretaps and as well as other means, the preceding Winters Administration had instituted a massive Reduction In Force in the Intelligence CommunityÆs pool of trained Agents.

While it was deemed successful, both parties had supported the cuts for that matter. President Winters had managed to deal a blow to the Intelligence Community what AmericaÆs foes had only dreamed of doing so. With the number of available Agents reduced and little or no money being spent on recruiting new ones, the remaining Agents had been forced to work overtime in defending the nation.

Chuck with the damned Intersect in his head and who had been already been doing more work than a normal Agent should be doing, suddenly had his work tripled much to his displeasure.

It was hard enough to live a dual life. But with the needs of the United States Government, operatives like him were in short supply and even higher demand and unfortunately it was tearing a hole into the barrier that separated his two lives.

HeÆd been forced to miss large portions of his kidÆs lives. Missing soccer games, birthday parties and even the twinsÆ graduation from Middle School. And his relationship with his kids had suffered as a result. To them he wasnÆt really much of a father, being gone almost all the time; to them he was just a stranger who happened to be called dad.

His marriage was also strained. Michelle had been pressuring him to quit for quite some time now, arguing that despite the generous pay that LanTech offered, it wasnÆt worth the cost to the children or her for that matter. While he and Michelle werenÆt on the rocks just yet, Chuck knew that if the status quo remained much longer, there would be serious consequences.

ôIf only you could see me know Sarah,ö he said sadly. For once, Chuck was glad that Sarah was dead. It would have killed her to see the man that he had become.

After SarahÆs death, he had never been the same. And while Sarah had passed away almost twenty years ago, her death still left a mark on Chuck as if it were yesterday.

To Ellie, Awesome and almost everyone, Chuck seemed to have moved on from SarahÆs death. He was happily married to one of EllieÆs best friends and fellow Doctors and had fathered twins with her after all.

However to those who really knew him, knew that Chuck had not and would never let Sarah go.

Sure he loved Michelle, she was his wife after all. But it wasnÆt the same as with Sarah. Even after almost twenty years of marriage, Chuck knew that deep down inside heÆd never be able to share the same degree of intimacy as he had developed with Sarah.

Michelle Bartowski nee Robertson was everything that Sarah was not. He looked guiltily at his left ring finger, wedding band absent for work and while he didnÆt admit it personal purposes as well. It was her antithesis of Sarah that attracted him to her in the first place he thought sadly.

His thoughts drifted to his children, Mark and Sammie. Despite him not being there for them, the two had turned out to be decent people no thanks to him he thought bitterly. While they had been taking their first steps, saying their first words and playing their first games, heÆd been in the field. Sure he was doing it to protect his family, and the rest of AmericaÆs families from harm but it still didnÆt make it right. He was a good Agent and a Patriot but at the same time, had been a horrible father just as his father had been to him and Ellie.

He frowned. Sarah would have hated to see him put his Country ahead of his family and happiness. But nevertheless sacrifices must be made for the greater good he told himself, wishing that he still believed those words.

The beeping of his watch stirred him from his thoughts and brought him back to reality.

He checked the time. It had almost been an hour since he first arrived. He better go lest he inconvenience the groundskeeper.

ôUntil we meet again,ö Chuck said sadly before turning away.

Intech Computer Solutions

ôBam!ö the target nearest to him dropped to the ground.

Just as that target fell, another rose up. ôBam!ö

ôBam!ö Yet another target down.

Chuck inhaled before letting off three more shots in quick succession from his M15 service pistol as he exhaled, each shot dropping a separate target.

If one where to ask where Chuck Bartowski felt most a home, his answer would surprise many.

It wasnÆt in the field. Sure, Chuck had been in the game for a long time and was good with what he did, but the constant need to maintain a cover was arduous and took its toll on you no matter how good you were. Although he didnÆt deny that it deep down inside a part of him enjoyed the chase and the thrill that it offered.

Nor was it at home. While being at home was nice, with no enemy agents, warlords, drug dealers and the like out to kill you, Chuck still had to maintain a facade of a nerdy computer engineer among his family and friends. A guise while easy compared to what he normally did, was getting increasingly more complicated as time went on.

No the one place that Chuck felt most at ease these days was in combat.

Combat was simple. No need for covers, no hidden agendas, combat was all about simplicity. The objective of the game was simple: kill your enemies before they could kill you. And the rules well, they were as straightforward as can be, there were none. And that was just the way he liked it.

ôYou just got back last night, donÆt you ever take a day off Bartowski?ö a gravely voice growled, brining him back to reality.

Chuck thumbed the safety and put down the pistol before turning to address the owner of said voice. ôCasey, youÆve known me for how long?ö

ôOver twenty years,ö Colonel John Casey, USMC (Ret.) grunted.

At age sixty the former NSA Agent was well beyond the age for Field Agents and according to Government policy, Casey had been retired kicking and screaming from active duty. While his removal from fieldwork meant the end of him being an Agent, it did not mean the end of his career in the NSA. Unlike his body, his mind was sharper than ever and these days Casey spent his days in the operations center directing and overseeing Team Bartowski as it completed its missions and assignments, something that Chuck took great pleasure in reminding him about.

ôAnd what exactly is my training policy again?ö

ôYou only train on days that end in y.ö

ôThere you have it Casey you answered your own question,ö Chuck picked up his pistol and loaded another magazine.

Casey turned to the targets, ôI donÆt think that the United States Government is in the business of assassinating teenagers.ö

ôThey arenÆt,ö Chuck turned off the safety and fired a shot, ôbut I am,ö he said calmly.

Taped on every single target was the face of a teenage boy.

ôLet me guess, SammieÆs got a boyfriend?ö

ôAt the moment,ö Chuck replied.

ôYou know that despite your efforts, sheÆs going to grow up eventually.ö

ôSheÆs too young,ö Chuck insisted. ôWhen I was her age, I didnÆt have a girlfriend.ö

ôWell Bartowski, thereÆs two reasons for that. One, girls tend to start dating at a younger age than boys.ö

ôTrue,ö Chuck relented.

ôAnd two you were a geek in High School, Sammie isnÆt.ö

ôThatÆs nerd. Not geek. But you are right.ö Chuck replied.

While he had been the classic geek in high school, having graduated as Salutatorian in his graduating class, his kids were as far away from that as possible. Mark was the quintessential athlete, having already been tapped for the varsity Soccer squad despite only being a freshman.

Sammie however was as far away from him as possible, taking after her mother more than himself. While his talents had always been focused on the mind, SammieÆs talents lay elsewhere. Sammie was a member of her SchoolÆs Cheerleading Squad and a member of the Associated Student Body, or whatever the hell they called it these days. And unlike him and Morgan who had been social outcasts, Sammie was one the most popular girls in her class. It was inevitable that someone would pursue her.

ôHowever, I did run a background check on the twerp and letÆs just say IÆm a bit concerned.ö

ôUsing Government assets for personal use is a felony Bartowski.ö

ôWhile it could be construed that way, you do remember that I as the intersect and a undercover agent have a mandate to use whatever means necessary to protect myself and my family and the authorization to use lethal force if need be.ö

ôYet I donÆt think that shooting a teenager is one of them.ö

ôThe majority of the local magistrates and the District Attorney have at least one daughter. Plus the President has three daughters as well. IÆm sure theyÆd agree with me or agree with me enough to give me a pardon if need be. Besides, the intersect canÆt work in prison.ö

ôFigures,ö Casey growled, ôtypical Bartowski. Always making sure to twist the laws to suit you.ö

ôI did learn from the best,ö Chuck commented.

After SarahÆs death, Casey had transitioned from being a handler to being a mentor to Chuck, teaching him the tricks of the trade. Chuck was confident that even with the intersect in his brain, if it hadnÆt been for CaseyÆs lessons on how to stay alive and thrive in the Spy World Chuck would be long dead, rotting in some ditch in the middle of no where.

However while Casey became his primary mentor and for a long period of time partner, the two men were never able to share the same connection and level of coordination that Chuck had with Sarah.

Casey grunted in approval.

ôI have his dossier if you want to read it.ö

Casey picked up the folder and began reading, ôDerek Patrick Shaw, well I can see why hate the boy already,ö he commented on the common surname held between the boy and Daniel Shaw, a former CIA Agent turned traitor who had once attempted to win SarahÆs heart and later tried to kill her, forcing Chuck to make his first kill. ôStill having the same name as that traitor isnÆt enough evidence to warrant taking him out.ö

ôKeep reading,ö Chuck said as he let off another shot.

ôOkay, where were we? Born March 19th 2013 to Andrew and Mary Shaw. Both parents, still married and happily according to the reports, damn you donÆt see that often these days.

ôHmm Junior at Providence High School. Has decent but not spectacular grades with an overall GPA of a 3.1. Currently the Quarterback of the Varsity Football Squad, chances of any Scholarship however are nil. Typical dumb High School Jock,ö Casey snorted.

ôGirlfriends, well it seems like your boy has been around the block a couple of times,ö Casey paused, ôsuspected of impregnating and fathering a son with a Kelly Richards, a fellow Junior. He denies parentage, however her family is asking for a paternity test,ö CaseyÆs face scrunched up. ôYou know what, IÆll join you.ö

ôI knew youÆd say that,ö Chuck paused. ôYou want me to get you an M15 from the armory?ö

ôIÆd rather use my own piece thank you very much.ö Casey grunted, ôI like real American weapons that have been tried and true on the battlefield, not some foreign made piece of trash, who havenÆt fought a war in years.ö

Chuck snorted. CaseyÆs preference for American designed and made weapons, especially those made by John Moses Browning was well known.

Naturally when the US Government selected a design made by Steyr, an Austrian Company to produce its next generation service pistol, Casey wasnÆt happy at all, refusing to turn in his current service pistol and opting to use it for the remainder of its service life. While such actions were heavily frowned upon, Casey was able to get away with it due to his service length and record as well as his current status as a retired Field Agent.

ôI was planning on that,ö Chuck replied, ôI brought out a box of .45 ACP just for you.ö

ôWhoa there, what about me?ö a new voice interrupted them.

ôArenÆt you supposed to be in the hospital Grimes?ö

ôNah, the Docs wanted to keep me there for another day or so but I kept on annoying them to the point that they couldnÆt stand me any more,ö replied Major Morgan Grimes, US Army replied.

ôOnly you Grimes could annoy your way out of a hospital.ö

ôHey IÆm good at it.ö

If one had asked any of Morgan GrimesÆ old classmates in High School what he would turn out to be, Government Agent was probably near the bottom of the list. Inducted as an NSA Agent and a part of Operation Bartowski as a favor from General Beckman after the mission in Paris, the rest of the team, save Chuck had believed that Morgan would be an annoying nuisance at best and a liability at worst.

However much to the surprise of many including General Beckman, over time Morgan had proved to be a valuable member of Operation Bartowski and had evolved into a competent analyst and Field Agent.

When Operation Bartowski had been temporarily disbanded after SarahÆs death, Morgan had been offered an option. He could quit, leave the spy life forever and return to his old life or fully embrace the Spy Life. To the surprise of everyone but Chuck, Morgan had opted for the latter choosing to stand by his friend. While Chuck had been sent to the Farm, the CIAÆs secretive training facility, Morgan had been assigned to Fort Benning in which he completed Basic Training and OfficerÆs Candidate School in record time and had been commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the US Army with a MOS in Signals Intelligence.

Morgan had been a true friend, a rare thing to have these days. He stood by him when his mom left, even when he didnÆt know the gravity of the situation. HeÆd been there when Chuck got kicked out of Stanford. And when Sarah died, Morgan Grimes even though he had the option to leave the Spy World and return to safety, had stuck by Chuck in his moment of greatest need. Through thick and thin, Morgan had always backed up his friend and Chuck was pretty sure that Morgan would chare into hell for him if he asked for it.

ôDonÆt worry Morgan, I didnÆt forget you.ö Chuck handed him a M15.

ôOh goody,ö Morgan put on his earmuffs before loading the pistol.

ôDonÆt forget to hold the grip tightly,ö Casey snickered, ôlest you let go of it while you pull the trigger.ö

ôCasey, that was almost twenty years ago,ö Morgan protested referring to a certain unfortunate incident between the two men, ôyouÆre never going to let me forget it will you?ö

ôDamn straight Grimes.ö

 

[Cephir]

This is...actually really interesting.

I don't think I've read a future Chuck fic where he's married to someone not related to the Agency. I'm looking forward to the reveal scene where Michelle and the kids learn that Chuck is in reality a CIA operative.

Looking forward to the next installment.

 

[Frank Cadena]

What's going to happen I wonder? I'm looking forward to seeing how the future events is going to affect the Bartowskis. Keep it up.

 

[cast2007]

Well here's chapter three.

Authors Note: I donÆt own Chuck

Thanks for Foxmac for betaing this chapter once again.

My three facts challenge still stands. Name one character, thing or organization in your review and IÆll make three facts about him, her or it.

HereÆs three facts about Lester for Jagged1

Lester still works at the Buy More serving as assistant manager to Big Mike. This time, would be a much better Assman than he had been the first time. Would eventually take over as General Manager of the Buy More when Big Mike retired. When taking a look at the antics of the Green Shirts and Nerd Herders and the ensuing headaches, he wonders how the hell did Big Mike was able to put up with everyoneÆs shenanigans for so long.

Like Chuck JeffÆs life was changed via tragedy. After JeffÆs death via alcohol poisoning, Lester took a long hard look at his life and didnÆt like what he saw. At forty years old and still making fifteen dollars an hour wasnÆt something to be proud of. He became the exact opposite of what he was, serious, responsible and focused on his job. But still every year on the anniversary of JeffÆs death, Lester goes out to a karaoke bar and gets hammered and sings in JeffÆs memory. It was the only way to keep Jeffster alive in his heart. Jeff would appreciate that.

Would run into Chuck shortly after being appointed by the President. Remarkably, he wouldnÆt be jealous. Running a Buy More was hard enough already, and unlike his younger self, he knew his limits.

Chapter Three

The White House
Washington, DC

ôSir, let me say this for the last time, I think youÆre out of your goddamned mind,ö Chief of Staff Gomez said bluntly.

ôWell, youÆre not the first,ö POTUS replied. ôGet in line.ö

ôMr. President, you want bloody fucking Charlie as the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency. If the Press Corps knew who he was or what heÆs done, they will tear you and him apart. Besides, if the radical liberal wing of the party even gets a whiff of his service record, youÆll have a revolt on your hands. We canÆt have that especially right now.ö

President Martin sighed. ôDespite what you and the rest of the Democratic Party think, Charles Carmichael is the best man for the job and that is final.ö

She sighed. ôWhen this blows up in your face, donÆt say that I didnÆt warn you.ö

ôDuly noted.ö He paused. ôWhere is he by the way?ö

ôHe should be waiting for you in the Oval Office right now, sir.ö

ôGood. LetÆs not keep him waiting then.ö


The Oval Office
The White House
Washington, DC

Well, at least the coffee was as good as they said it was, Chuck thought as he sipped from his cup. The White House was famous for many things and was host to many monumental moments in history. Events from the Emancipation Proclamation to the Cuban Missile Crisis were made here, and even now, the White House was still considered to be the seat of the free world. However, there was one little tidbit about the White House that was unknown to many. The White House was one of the few places that one could drink Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee.

As one of the most expensive and exclusive coffees in the world, Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee was not something one could obtain from their neighborhood Starbucks. At over eighty dollars a pound, few if not any at all, got the opportunity to drink it on a regular basis, let alone try it.

Well, I guess thatÆs just another one of the perks that came with being President, Chuck mused. He knew that the job was a bitch and half and figured that with the weight of the country, and possibly the world, on your shoulders, you needed whatever perks you could get.

As the door began to open, Chuck instantly snapped back into reality, something that had been honed into his psyche after decades of being one of the CIAÆs top field agents, as his hands reached to his now empty holster that would normally contained his service pistol.

ôSorry to keep you waiting, Agent Carmichael,ö President Martin apologized offering his hand.

ôNot at all, Mr. President,ö Chuck said as he shook it.

ôIt's finally good to meet the man, who single-handedly saved this nation on countless occasions,ö Martin said with a smile.

ôPlease, Mr. President,ö Chuck replied, quite abashed. ôI was just doing my job. Besides, if it wasnÆt for my team, I wouldnÆt be standing here today.ö

ôAlways the humble one, Agent Carmichael. Humility will let you go a long way,ö President Martin replied, waving him to take a seat. ôNever get too big for your head. ItÆll bite you in the ass when you least expected,ö he added with a laugh. ôWho am I kidding? You probably are more aware of that than even I am.ö

ôYes, I am, sir,ö Chuck grinned ruefully, masking his discomfort.

Martin turned serious. ôYouÆre probably wondering why I summoned you here.ö

ôYes, I am, sir. Getting orders straight from the top of the chain of command isnÆt in the usual MO,ö Chuck confessed.

ôAgent Bartowski, do you mind if I use your real name?ö

ôYou are the President, sir,ö Chuck replied.

ôVery well then,ö Martin sighed. ôTwo days ago, Director Franklin lost a laptop while . . . visiting a companion of his.ö

Chuck snorted. Despite being stationed on the West Coast he knew from his contacts at Langley that Franklin had a vice for escorts and prostitutes. It was one of the worst kept secrets in the Agency.

ôThat laptop contained almost all of the identities of our undercover operatives,ö Martin continued. ôWe were able to get it back with the data intact but we arenÆt sure if the data was copied or transmitted before we were able to recover it.ö

ôAnd IÆm assuming that my name was on that list?ö Chuck asked with rising dread.

ôYes,ö came the succinct reply.

ôShit!ö Chuck sighed, rubbing his fingers on his forehead. ôI assume that I have to make the arrangements then?ö he asked not looking up.

ôAgent Bartowski, I assure you that the Witness Protection Program is more than capable of providing for you and your teamÆs families. However . . . ö

At this, Chuck looked up surprised.

ô. . . I didnÆt drag you all the way to Washington to inform you that you and your familyÆs lives were in danger,ö Martin continued then paused. ôWith Director FranklinÆs resignation, I need a new Director and I want you to have that job.ö

ôSir?ö ChuckÆs eyebrows rose in amazement. ôYou have got to be joking.ö

ôAgent Bartowski, I assure you IÆm not joking,ö Martin said, seriously. ôI need you at the helm of the CIA.ö

ôSir, I think you have the wrong guy,ö Chuck said, a hand raised as if he were trying to forestall the inevitable. ôI have little or no connections in Washington. Heck, I havenÆt even been assigned to Washington let alone the Eastern Seaboard my entire career.ö

ôAgent Bartowski, youÆre selling yourself short. I went to the heads of the DEA, DIA, NSA, CIA, and the rest of the intelligence community to see who was the best agent around, and guess they all recommended?ö Martin paused not expecting an answer. ôYou. It seems that their estimation of you is the only thing that they can all agree on these days.

ôAgent Bartowski, IÆve studied your service record. Unlike countless agents out there, you donÆt care about your career advancement or your prospects for promotion. You donÆt want to further your agenda or the AgencyÆs. All you care about is getting the mission done as cleanly as possible. Agent Bartowski, youÆre a rare man to find these days, and that is why I need you at the helm of the CIA.ö Martin looked at Chuck. ôI take it that you donÆt want the job?ö

Chuck sighed, ôSir, the only thing I wanted was to finish my remaining two years and retire on a full pension.ö

Martin chuckled. ôHere I am offering you a job that would make you one of the most powerful men in the world and yet you want to turn it down. Most men, or women for that matter, would salivate over that. ThatÆs just another reason why youÆre the best person for this job.ö

ôMr. President, IÆm thankful for the offer but I must respectfully decline.ö

ôVery well then,ö Martin replied with a sigh. ôI was hoping to have you as the next Director but since youÆve declined, IÆm afraid that Deputy Director Hayworth will become the next Director of the CIA.ö

ôMr. President, are you talking about Robert Hayworth?ö Chuck asked with disbelief in his voice and surprise in face.

ôIs there anyone else occupying the Deputy DirectorÆs position?ö Martin asked with a straight face.

ôMr. President, IÆm sorry for being blunt but are you out of your fucking mind? Deputy Director Hayworth would be the worst person to lead the CIA especially at this time and situation.ö

ôWell, Agent Bartowski, since you respectfully declined take the job, I am more that sure that Deputy Director Hayworth will. Unless of course--ö

ôGoddamn it!ö Chuck swore angrily. ôYou fucking set me up. YouÆre forcing me to choose between my own happiness and my countryÆs well-being, knowing full well that my conscience wonÆt let you or the country down.ö

ôI assume that youÆll take the job, then?ö

ôFine, on one condition.ö

ôName it, Director Bartowski, IÆm listening.ö

ôI want a free hand regarding the Agency. You and your predecessors did a splendid job gutting the Agency and IÆm going to have my hands full as it is already. The last thing I need is resistance.ö

ôYou have it. Within reason, of course.ö

ôNaturally.ö

ôYou know thatÆs another thing I like about you,ö Martin said with a smile as he leaned back on his seat. ôYou have this sense of just when and where to speak your mind and when that happens youÆre not afraid to call them out. You donÆt pull any punches, do you?ö

ôI only throw as many punches as needed to get my point across. Anything more is just overkill.ö

ôYouÆre going to go far, Mr. Bartowski, as the Director of the CIA, that I can see.ö

ôWell, I do have to get past confirmation first, sir.ö

ôThat you do.ö

Bob Hope International Airport
Los Angeles, CA

Am I doing the right thing? Chuck thought to himself for the umpteenth time. Becoming the Director of the CIA was to achieve something that few men and women had ever achieved in their lifetimes. It was a great honor and responsibility to be placed in charge of the largest and most influential intelligence agency in the US and, possibly, the world. Things like this didnÆt come up everyday, he told himself.

He frowned. By taking his job, he would be taking whatever tranquility that his family had and throwing it out the window. His family, the one that he had done his utmost to keep them out of his hidden life would be thrust directly in the middle. Whatever anonymity he and his family had would be gone, as their lives would be thrust right in the middle of the spotlight.

And what about his wife? How would Michelle react? Chuck knew that his wife would not take it lightly that heÆd been lying to her for the last eighteen years. Would she forgive him even with his good intentions? The road to hell is paved with good intentions, he thought. HeÆd find out when he told her.

And what about his kids? How would they react when they found out that their father wasnÆt a socially inept computer salesman but instead was one of the CIAÆs top agents? Would they accept their father for who he really was? How would they take moving from Burbank to the East Coast, and being uprooted from their friends to some distant place across the entire country?

And what about his team? Casey could handle another relocation, Chuck was sure about that. HeÆd been on the go many times before, first as a Marine and then as an NSA Agent.

Morgan would follow Chuck through hell if need be. He had been with Chuck since the very beginning. Ever since that time in fourth grade, Morgan had been by his side. And now as an agent, Morgan had been right beside him. Sure, he had taken a while to get acclimated to the life of an agent, but when he was done, there was no one else that heÆd have by his side and covering his back.

He knew that his team could handle being relocated but like him they had set down roots in Burbank and had families of their own. Unlike his own, however, both Morgan and CaseyÆs families knew about their work. It was something that had set up a considerable amount of friction between him and the rest of his team.

He needed time to think.

ôSir?ö the flight attendant interrupted his thoughts. ôWeÆve just landed.ö

ôThank you,ö Chuck replied. He needed a sandwich.


LouÆs Deli
Burbank, CA

ôCan I help you, sir?ö asked the middle-aged brunette behind the counter.

ôHey, Lou, long time no see?ö Chuck replied with his signature grin.

ôDo I know you?ö Lou asked with a suspicious frown.

ôIÆm hurt. You donÆt recognize an old flame?ö Chuck noticed the man manning the counter beside her, tensed up. He was probably her husband, he thought.

ôChuck?ö Lou eyebrows rose as she finally recognized him.

ôItÆs me.ö

ôCome here, you. ItÆs been years. Let me give you a hug.ö

Chuck glanced at her husband as he embraced her. He was definitely on his shit list now. Hopefully, Lou would be making his sandwich not him.

ôSo whatÆs with the get-up?ö She pointed to the black suit that he was currently wearing. ôYou look like aàö

ôG-Man?ö

ôI was going to say federal agent but yes.ö

ôWell, you know my job, the other one.ö

ôChuck, will you please tell me that this is not another inspection! The Health Inspector just came last week.ö

Chuck laughed. ôLou, I assure you that IÆm not here on business. IÆm just here to order some sandwiches. Besides, if the FDA wanted to do an inspection, they wouldnÆt send me. Your sandwiches are too good for this deli to be shut down, imported meat or not.ö

LouÆs reaction made Chuck grin. People were so obvious.

ôTrust me,ö he said. ôI will not relay any information to my superiors at the Food and Drug Administration. I donÆt have a warrant to search the deli and IÆd be in more trouble with my bosses if I searched the place and demanded an inspection than if I let the whole thing slide. WeÆve got enough trouble enough on our hands already with knock-off Chinese medicines and the like.ö

ôWell, thatÆs good for me. What would you like?ö

ôIÆll take a Chuck: turkey, Muenster cheese, egg bread, grilled and with a dash of mustard and mayo if you still have it, of course.ö

ôWhile I donÆt normally have it in stock, I can whip one up for you. Anything else?ö

ôIÆll take a roast beef with provolone, a pastrami and a ham and cheese sandwich please.ö

ôWow, you must be hungry.ö

ôWell, itÆs not just for myself but for a number of my friends as well.ö

ôWell, give me a couple of minutes and IÆll have them hot and ready.ö

ôHow much do I owe you?ö

ôNothing.ö

ôReally?ö he asked, surprised.

ôChuck, you got me out of going to federal prison twenty-one years ago because of my ties with the Demetrios family and I never got to thank you for it. Think of this as just a payment of me and my familyÆs debt to you.ö

ôWhy, thanks,ö Chuck replied as he pulled out a twenty. ôIÆm flattered.ö

ôI thought I said no payment,ö Lou stated as she gave him the sandwiches.

ôYes, you did. But you never said I could leave a tip,ö Chuck replied as he put the twenty into the tip jar. ôFor excellent service as usual,ö he said walking out the door, sandwiches in his arms.

Intech Computer Solutions
Burbank, CA

ôHey, guys, miss me?ö

ôYouÆre back early,ö remarked Casey.

ôWell, it was a simple assignment. In fact, it wasnÆt an assignment at all,ö Chuck, laughed. ôSandwiches?ö

ôChuck, whatÆs going on?ö Morgan asked. ôLast time you brought sandwiches to work, it was when you told us that you were going to ask Michelle to marry you.ö

ôSit down, guys,ö Chuck said as he passed out the sandwiches. ôCasey, hereÆs your pastrami.ö

ôPastrami? You know that I canÆt eat pastrami,ö Casey objected.

ôCasey, one pastrami sandwich is not going to kill you. Live a little, will you? Besides, IÆm not going to tell Kathleen if you arenÆt.ö

ôFine,ö Casey grunted as he grabbed the sandwich.

ôMorgan, hereÆs your roast beef with provolone.ö

ôThanks, Chuck,ö Morgan said gratefully. ôMy favorite as usual.ö

ôAnd, Alex, I didnÆt forget you. Ham and cheese as the lady requested.ö

ôThank you kind, sir,ö remarked Special Agent Alexandra McHugh-Grimes of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, John CaseyÆs daughter and Morgan GrimesÆ wife. While not a nominal part of Team Bartowski, Alex was as much as a part of Team Bartowski as he, Morgan, and Casey were. Alex McHugh-Grimes served as the FBI liaison to Team Bartowski and provided them with the ability to act with impunity, under the cover of an FBI Special Task Force, and shielding them from the limitations placed on the CIA and NSA concerning domestic operations.

ôSo whatÆs up?ö Morgan asked.

Chuck took in a deep breath. ôThe President wants me to take over the CIA.ö

Casey snorted. ôVery funny, Bartowski. Really, whatÆs going on?ö he asked as he took a bite savoring the oily yet tasty meat.

ôGuys, IÆm serious.ö

ôChuck, I do admit that you surprised us but really tell whatÆs going on,ö Alex told him with a gentle smile.

ôBesides, you as Director of the CIA? IÆm sorry but youÆd be a bloody nightmare for any politician to handle,ö Morgan added smirking.

ôMichelle isnÆt cheating on you, isnÆt she?ö Alex asked concern showing on her brow. She never did like ChuckÆs wife.

ôMichelle and I are fine,ö Chuck replied silently.

ôSo whatÆs really going on?ö she asked as she was about to take a bite of her sandwich.

Chuck sat there silently.

ôShit!ö Casey said. ôHeÆs not joking, is he?ö

ôIÆm afraid not,ö Chuck replied with a heavy sigh.

The rest of Team Bartowski looked at him in complete silence.

ôSo what are you going to do?ö Morgan finally asked.

ôIÆm going to take the job,ö Chuck replied again with a heavy sigh. ôWe all have been through a lot together and IÆd like your support. The President has given me a free hand in remaking the CIA and IÆd like to bring you three along with me to Langley.ö

ôA free hand?ö Alex asked.

ôThe President told me within reason,ö Chuck replied. ôIÆm not sure how much leeway IÆll have but it seems that I have his support.ö

ôSo you want us to pack up our lives and move to Langley?ö Morgan asked around a mouthful of provolone.

ôWell, in a nutshell, yes,ö Chuck replied with nod before taking a bite of his namesake sandwich.

ôWhy?ö Casey finally asked.

ôDirector Franklin lost a laptop containing nearly the all the identities of all of our covert agents and their location,ö Chuck answered. ôOur names were on that list, Casey. Normally, we and our families would go into witness protection but the President thinks that this is the perfect opportunity for me to become the next Director.ö

ôIÆd take witness protection than commanding a desk,ö Casey growled. His hatred of paperwork was legendary.

ôLikewise,ö Morgan agreed.

ôGuys,ö Chuck began as he put his food down. ôRemember all those times that we bitched about those idiots in charge who didnÆt know fieldwork if it bit them in the ass and what weÆd do if we were in the same position?ö

ôYes, your point being?ö Alex asked as she took another bite.

ôWe have the chance to become those people. WeÆll be calling the shots and we can make sure that those under our command wonÆt get screwed over.ö

ôDonÆt people in charge almost always get a lobotomy almost the second theyÆve been placed in charge of an important position?ö Morgan quipped.

Chuck laughed and then turned serious. ôGuys, both you and I both know that this countryÆs intelligence apparatus has been gutted and needs to be rebuilt. Regardless of your decisions IÆm going to take the job. However, I would really appreciate your support in this.ö

ôDamn it, Bartowski. IÆm in on one condition,ö Casey grunted.

ôName it, big buddy.ö

ôI want the Deputy Director of Operations position. The current one is a complete nitwit. Besides most of you CIA nimrods couldnÆt see espionage if it bit them in the ass. Present company excluded of course.ö

ôThanks for your vote of confidence Casey. That I can do. Good to have you on board.ö

ôChuck,ö Morgan began. ôYouÆve been my best friend ever since the fourth grade. WeÆve been through the awkward stage before puberty, the awkward stage during puberty, and the years after puberty. Without you I would have never been able to realize my full potential and be where I am today. I would be probably be still stuck in the Buy More working with my father-in-law and waiting until he retired to get the General ManagerÆs position. And most importantly, I would have never met my wife and mother of my children.ö

ôThatÆs so sweet,ö Alex, replied as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

ôUgh!ö Casey grunted in disgust mostly out of show. He loved his daughter and knew that there was no one else that heÆd rather have as a son-in-law.

ôHush, Dad,ö she gently admonished. ôOr else IÆll tell Mom about your sandwich.ö

Casey growled with defeated undertone.

ôLikewise, IÆm in,ö she added. ôBesides, if Morgan here goes, then IÆll have to watch over the two of you to keep the both of you out of trouble.ö

ôThanks.ö Chuck smiled, relieved. ôIÆm grateful.ö

ôNow,ö Alex began, bringing the conversation back to the other matter at hand. ôWhat are we going to do about your family?ö

Chuck sighed. Unlike the rest of his team, his own family didnÆt know anything about what he did. Michelle and Ellie were completely in the dark, with Awesome doing his best to cover for Chuck when he needed it the most.

ôYou are going to have to tell them,ö Alex insisted.

ôYouÆre right,ö Chuck replied grateful for her counsel. ôWeÆre going to have to tell them the truth. IÆll call Devon and Ellie and tell Michelle to have everyone over at four this afternoon for a family meeting.ö He turned to his best friend. ôMorgan.ö

ôYeah?ö he asked with mouth wide open and his sandwich halfway to his mouth.

ôLoose the beard. YouÆre going to be wearing your dress uniform.ö

ôBut I just finished growing it out again!ö Morgan protested. ôYou know how much I hate having to shave it off for my annual airborne qualification at Fort Bragg. Besides, Alex thinks itÆs sexy.ö

Casey growled threateningly at that.

ôOne, Morgan, too much information. I donÆt need to know what kind of activities that you and your wife do on your own personal time. And besides given the fact your father-in-law is sitting right next to you . . . ö Chuck inclined his head in Casey's direction. ô . . . ôI think that he wants to know about it as much as I do.ö

ôAnd second, youÆre lucky that youÆre undercover and are subject to modified grooming standards. Otherwise, youÆd have to be clean shaven every day.ö

ôDamn it, Chuck. How come you donÆt have to be bound by the same rules again? Its so unfair.ö

ôWell, IÆm CIA youÆre NSA. If you wanted the keep the beard you should have joined the CIA. ItÆs one of the perks we have,ö Chuck smiled.

ôWell, at least I my officerÆs commission and the fact that I can retire after twenty with a full pension as opposed to waiting twenty-five years,ö Morgan replied.

ôTouchÚ,ö Chuck sighed. ôIÆll see you all at my place at three thirty then.ö

 

[Cephir]

Gah, I got all excited that this could be an advance for Ch. 4, since 3 is already on ff.net.

Oh - I forgot to mention it in my review on ff.net - but I do find it kind of funny that Morgan is Casey's son-in-law. That definitely has some comedy potential.

Looking forward to Chuck's family react to the fact that he is a spy!

 

[cast2007]

Cephir, you got a treat as here's chapter four!

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I donÆt own Chuck

Authors Note: Thanks for Foxmac for betaing this fic and helping me with the ending of this chapter.

Also this story is now AU as of Season Three Episode Thirteen. I have included elements for the rest of the season three but this story diverges from canon after Chuck vs. the Other Guy

For Mooncow33

Jill

Never thought Chuck could be a real spy. Especially with his down to earth and loveable attitude and outlook on things.

After escaping for Federal custody, works as an assassin for hire and successfully evades capture from Federal authorities for years. It is only by chance that she and Chuck meet years after.

Dies via a bullet fired from ChuckÆs pistol. As she lies on the pavement dying, a tear drops from her eyes as she realizes that monster that sheÆs become. Yet as she stares at the man that killed her, she canÆt help but notice ChuckÆs eyes are dry and unflinching.

Why is this so hard? Chuck thought to himself as he sat in the living room.

He was Charles ôBloody Charlieö Carmichael for GodÆs sake, one of the best agents to ever serve the CIA. HeÆd taken down some of the worldÆs most notorious criminal organizations, stopped a group of traitors from taking over the US government, and went into the heart of Moscow itself to steal something right out of the Russian Federal Security BureauÆs headquarters. He could kill someone in the same manner as if he were flossing his teeth. Yet despite it all, he still couldnÆt face his own family.

ôHaving trouble?ö Morgan asked, now decked in his Class A dress uniform, his service cap tucked underneath his arm.

ôYeah.ö Chuck checked his watch. It was currently three fifty-five. Five minutes until his family came home and five long minutes before he told them the truth.

ôRelax, Chuck. YouÆre going to be fine,ö Alex assured him, dressed in her usual business suit.

ôEasy for you to say,ö Chuck remarked. He turned to Casey, who, like Alex, wore a dark suit. ôCasey, I just want you to know that my respect for you just went up a couple of notches. How you were able to go to Kathleen and tell her the truth was beyond me.ö

ôDonÆt kid yourself, Bartowski,ö Casey said. ôItÆs not going to be easy.ö

The front door opened, revealing Devon in his usual scrubs and had arrived several minutes early. ôHey, Chuck,ö he greeted. ôI got your message and came as fast I as could. Ellie and the kids will be arriving shortly.ö He paused as he looked at everyone seated. ôWhatÆs going on?ö he asked.

Chuck sat there silently.

Devon's eyes widened in realization as he saw Casey, Morgan, and Alex blending in with the background. ôHoly crap,ö he breathed. ôYouÆre telling them?ö

ôYeah,ö Chuck managed a weak smile, his team at this moment choosing to withdrawal to the kitchen and leaving him alone with his family.

ôChuck,ö Devon began. ôI hate to say this to you but good luck. YouÆre going to be in the doghouse for some time,ö he added as he took a seat on the middle.

ôI know,ö Chuck said with a sigh.

Ellie was next. Arriving with her adolescent sons: Devon Junior, Dean, and Darren in tow. Ellie and Devon had taken even longer than Chuck and Michelle had to have children, waiting until their late thirties to do so.

ôHey, Chuck,ö she greeted. ôWhatÆs going on?ö she asked after she hugged him. ôLook at you, all dressed up. I donÆt remember the last time you wore a suit.ö

ôYouÆll see,ö Chuck said with a forced smile. ôJust take a seat.ö I wear one more often then you think, he thought silently.

ôOkay, Chuck,ö she said taking a seat alongside Devon and her boys. ôI trust you.ö

I wonder how much youÆll trust me after I tell you truth, he thought as he huffed in nervousness.

ôHey, honey,ö Michelle greeted as she came through the door with Mark and Sammie behind her, decked in their soccer and cheerleading outfits respectively. ôWhatÆs going on?ö she asked in confusion as she eyed him over. As far as she knew, her husband never wore a suit.

ôYouÆre going to want to take a seat for this,ö Chuck began as he waved her and their children to a seat and stood up.

ôSure, sweetie,ö she told him quite unsure of what was going on as she and the children took a seat on the sofa. Once settled, she asked, ôWhatÆs going on, Chuck?ö she repeated.

Chuck paced for a moment before stopping with a sigh. ôThereÆs something that I need to tell you all,ö he began.

ôAre you having an affair?ö his wife asked cautiously.

ôNo,ö Chuck replied with a shake of his head. ôIt's worse than that.ö

ôReally? What could be worse than that?ö Ellie asked.

Chuck steeled himself. It was now or never. ôIÆm not who you think I am.ö He paused for a second. ôIÆm a spy.ö There I said it.

ôWhat?ö Ellie said if she hadnÆt heard him correctly.

ôFor the last twenty-three years, I have been in the employ of the Central Intelligence Agency. I currently hold the rank of Special Agent in Charge and possess a Level Nine security clearance.ö

ôWhat about your job at Intech?ö MichelleÆs eyebrows furrowed.

ôMy job as an information security professional was just a cover. Intech was just a front created by the CIA.ö

ôWait a second,ö Ellie interjected. ôYou said twenty-three years. WerenÆt you still at the Buy More?ö

ôYeah. I was recruited as an analyst on my twenty-sixth birthday.ö He paused. ôRemember all of those odd events that started happening right after? The Wienerlicious suddenly opening up right next to the Buy More and the fact that John Casey suddenly becoming one of my coworkers at the Buy More?ö

ôWait,ö Ellie interjected again with a waved of her hand to halt his narration. ôSo you're saying that all of those installs that you had to doà?ö She left that question hanging.

ôWere field missions,ö Chuck supplied. ôThatÆs all IÆm going say about that,ö he stated firmly. ôUnless I want to go to prison for violating a number of laws and state secrets.ö

ôWait. You mentioned the Wienerlicious and John Casey, you mean thatà?ö

ôJohn Casey is a retired agent in the National Security Agency,ö Chuck answered with a nod. ôWeÆve been partners for over the last twenty-three years.ö

ôAnd Sarah?ö Ellie asked delicately as she looked at Michelle at the corner of her eye. The topic of Sarah Walker was a touchy subject in the Bartowski family. Chuck never liked talking about her, and she and Devon were more than happy to oblige him, especially after his marriage to Michelle.

ôSarah Walker was an agent for the Central Intelligence Agency,ö Chuck began with a faraway look in his eye. ôContrary to popular belief, she didn't die in a car crash. She died saving the life of the man she loved.ö He turned looking directly at his wife. ôSarah and I were partners in every sense of the word. I was the brains and she was the brawn.ö He smiled, remembering. ôThere wasnÆt anything that we wouldnÆt do for one another. When she died, I was thrown into a rut that I almost didnÆt get out of.ö

ôSo thatÆs why you left the Buy More and Burbank?ö Ellie asked gently.

ôYeah,ö Chuck admitted. ôAfter her death, I decided that being an analyst wasnÆt enough and decided to become a field operative,ö he told her. It was the truth to a certain extent. He did leave the Buy More to go to the Farm, the CIAÆs top secret training facility, to complete the training that he had once flunked out of.

ôWait,ö Ellie said with a slight frown. ôWasnÆt that around the same time that Morgan left as well?ö

ôYeah,ö Chuck admitted. ôMorgan was recruited by the NSA roughly around the same time as I was and left for Fort Benning to begin training. We graduated roughly around the same time, him with a Second LieutenantÆs commission, fresh out of Ranger School and me as an agent.ö

ôSo, youÆre saying that Morgan Grimes,ö Ellie said with disbelief. ôThe man who took my pillow as his date to junior prom, not only knew about your secret life but is also a Lieutenant in the NSA?ö

ôWell, heÆs a Major now,ö Chuck corrected. ôAnd is due for promotion to Lieutenant Colonel.ö He looked up and called out, ôMorgan. You guys can come out now.ö

Morgan came into the living room, followed closely by Casey and Alex.

Ellie stared hard at Morgan in disbelief, her eyes staring at the medals and campaign ribbons on his chest. ôYouÆre in the NSA.ö

ôBeen in for over twenty years now,ö Morgan replied.

She turned her gaze to Alex, looking at her ID card on her chest. ôYouÆre one of them?ö

ôSpecial Agent Alexandra McHugh-Grimes, FBI, at your service,ö she smiled weakly.

ôWait a second.ö Ellie waved both her hands as if to let herself catch up and take everything Chuck had told them so far. She kept expecting a camera to pop out of nowhere and tell her that this was all a prank. But judging by her brother's nervous yet serious demeanor she knew that he was telling the truth. ôSo youÆre saying that all of our closest family friends either knew about your secret life or are a part of it? ô

ôIn a nutshell,ö Chuck added.

Does Kathleen know?ö she asked Casey.

ôKathleen has known about my life just as long as Alex has,ö Casey replied. He owned his wife that much.

ôSo all this time, youÆve been keeping secrets from us,ö Michelle stated, her voice rising for the first time since this revelation began. ôWhy didnÆt you tell us? WeÆre your closest family friends for ChristÆs sake!ö

ôIt wasnÆt my place to tell,ö Morgan replied. ôChuck didnÆt want you to know and we respected his wishes.ö

ôWhy, Chuck?ö Ellie asked. ôWhy did you keep it all a secret?ö

ôIt was for your own protection,ö Chuck replied. ôIÆve made a lot of enemies over the years and I wanted you to have no part of this life.ö

ôEnemies?ö Michelle asked with concern as the consequence of Chuck's spy life came to the forefront. ôWhat kind of enemies?ö

ôEnemies that would have no compunction at all to storm in here and kill all of you just to send a message,ö Chuck replied succinctly.

ôSo all those times that you went on those computer security problemsà?ö Michelle began to ask, almost afraid of what the answer will be.

ôThose were missions that I went on.ö He sighed. ôIt did help that you knew almost nothing about computers,ö he admitted.

ôWait,ö Ellie said turning to Devon. ôYou havenÆt said a single thing. ItÆs almost as if you knew.ö Her eyes widened as that realization sank in. ôWait, you knew about ChuckÆs life?ö she asked accusingly.

ôBabe . . . ö Devon began.

ôEllie,ö Chuck interjected. ôDevon has known that I was a spy for over the last twenty years. ThatÆs all he knows.ö

ôBut why didnÆt he tell me?ö Ellie asked as she turned to face Chuck. ôIÆm his wife, for crying out loud.ö

ôTwo reasons, sis,ö Chuck answered. ôFirst, Devon has enough regard for me to respect my wishes, and second, he doesnÆt want to go to prison.ö

ôPrison?ö

ôMy occupation and identity is a national secret. You know what Fort Leavenworth is?ö Seeing their blank stares, Chuck continued. ôFort Leavenworth is where they put the traitors, deserters, and other miscreants too dangerous to be put in the regular prison system. If Devon would have told anyone, I mean anyone about who I was, the government would have had no compunctions about throwing him into Leavenworth for the rest of his life.ö He stared at Devon who was currently as white as a sheet. ôWhen it comes to national security the government doesn't mess around.ö

ôAs awesome as Captain Awesome is,ö Morgan remarked. ôHe isnÆt awesome enough to survive a day in Leavenworth. IÆve been there to interrogate some prisoners and itÆs not pretty.ö

ôHow did Devon find out?ö Ellie asked.

ôLetÆs just say that if Devon hadnÆt wanted to play a hero and went into my apartment that one night, he wouldnÆt have been in the know,ö Casey told her.

ôHey,ö Devon objected. ôI thought you were a creepy stalker with an unhealthy fascination with Chuck. It didnÆt help that you tried to kill me that night.ö

ôWhat?!ö Ellie exclaimed, her eyes staring angrily at Casey.

ôRelax, Ellie,ö Chuck began.

ôRelax?!ö Ellie shouted. ôThis man tried to kill my husband!ö

ôEllie, all Casey did was punch Devon in the face.ö

ôAnd pointed a gun at me,ö Devon added.

Casey, Morgan, and Alex all glared at Devon.

ôMoron,ö Casey growled.

ôEverything worked out in the end,ö Chuck said, trying to nip this in the bud before it got out of hand. ôNo one was hurt and in the end everything worked out.ö

ôEverything worked out in the end?ö Ellie asked incredulously. ôOne of our family friends tried to kill my husband!ö

ôBabe, it was a misunderstanding that was quickly resolved,ö Devon added trying to pacify his wife.

Chuck turned to his children and nephews. ôYou guys have been quiet.ö

Mark and Sammie looked at each other for a moment and silently communicated in a way twins communicate. ôWell, Dad,ö Mark began. ôNo offense but you as a CIA agent? It's pretty unbelievable.ö

ôYouÆre like the last person who weÆd ever think would be a member of the CIA,ö added Sammie.

ôYou donÆt believe me, do you?ö

His children along with his nephews shook their heads.

ôVery well,ö he replied as he took a deep breath. He didnÆt want to do this. ôHouse,ö he said out loud to no one in particular. ôActivate Armory Delta Seven. Authentication: Special Agent Charles Carmichael. Authorization code: Yankee Delta Seven Niner Echo.ö

ôIdentify confirmed,ö replied an artificial female voice coming from the family's sound system that no one had heard before except for Team Bartowski. ôActivating Armory.ö

One of the living room walls suddenly opened up, revealing a large amount of weapons, and tactical equipment, enough to equip an entire squad.

ôWhoa,ö Mark breathed as he gazed over the weapons. ôJust like 'Call of Duty'.ö

ôTheyÆre not just like 'Call of Duty'. These arenÆt toys,ö Chuck snapped. ôYou can kill someone with those. IÆve seen what happens to people on the other end of those and itÆs not pretty.ö

ôHow many people have you killed, Chuck?ö Ellie asked. ôTen? Twenty?ö

ôToo many,ö Chuck replied sadly. HeÆd stopped counting years ago.

A new voice came via the sound system. ôAgent Carmichael? This is Langley Control. WhatÆs your situation? You just activated your armory. We can have a tactical team arriving at your house in ten minutes.ö

ôNegative on the tactical team. Everything's hunky-dory,ö Chuck replied, using a prearranged code phrase to let his superiors know that he wasnÆt under duress.

ôCopy that. Langley out.ö

ôBelieve me now?ö Chuck replied, a slight grin on his face as he saw his family awestruck.

ôHow did you get thoseàthings in the house?ö Michelle asked. She hated guns and had spoken out numerous times in favor of gun control.

ôTheyÆve been there ever since we had the house,ö Chuck replied.

ôYou mean to say that we have a large cache of weapons in our house for the last eighteen years?ö

ôWell, not just one cache, there are others as well,ö Chuck replied.

ôWhere?ö she asked almost dreading the answer.

ôI canÆt tell you that. And even if you did know, you wouldnÆt be able to access them. The armories are keyed to my voice and my voice alone.ö

ôAnything else I need to know about, honey?ö Michelle said the last word as if was poison.

ôOh, yeah. By the way the entire house is bugged, thereÆs at least five close circuit cameras and three listening devices in each room.ö

ôWhat?ö Michelle exclaimed in surprise.

ôRemember right after we bought the house? How we were able to get the place remodeled so cheaply?ö

ôYou mean to sayà?ö

ôThose were CIA specialists in disguise fitting out the house to serve as a secondary command center if need be.ö

ôSo all of these years, weÆve been spied on by the CIA? Every moment of our lives?ö

ôThose cameras are keyed directly to CIA Headquarters and my office at Intech. It's for our own protection.ö

ôYou mean to tell me that people had been watching us in the shower and while weÆre changing?ö his daughter said disgustedly.

ôI assure you that those watching on the other side of the cameras are professionals and dislike the job as much as we like being watched.ö

Chuck neglected to tell his family that several years ago, the CIA had caught one of its employees conducting excessive surveillance on his daughter. When he had found out, Chuck had personally beat the man to the inch of his life and fired a 9mm round at each of the manÆs kneecaps before he was carted off to federal prison.

ôWho's Carmichael?ö Ellie asked. ôAnd why did he call you that?ö

ôItÆs a cover name,ö Chuck answered. ôOne of many that I use in the field.ö He looked at his family. ôWhat? You really think that IÆd use my real name while on missions?ö

ôWhy are you telling us this now?ö Michelle asked. ôYou said you didnÆt want us to know about your . . . other life for our own good, yet youÆre choosing to tell us this right now. WhatÆs going on?ö

ôNumb Nuts here . . . ö Casey jabbed his finger towards Chuck. ô . . . Got a promotion.ö

ôOf sorts,ö Morgan added.

ôThatÆs a good thing, right?ö Devon asked.

ôIÆve been appointed by the President to become the next Director the CIAö Chuck said. ôAnd I've accepted his offer. The President wants me and the rest of our family in Washington in two days to make it official.ö

ôWait,ö Devon interjected. ôIsnÆt the CIA based on the East Coast?ö

ôLangley, Virginia to be exact,ö Chuck replied.

ôSo you want us to pack up whatever we can and move across the entire country so you can start your dream job?ö

ôWell, it's not that simple,ö Chuck answered as he rubbed the back of his neck. One down, one to go, he thought. ôThe President will announce my appointment via a press conference. Following that, IÆll have a few weeks before my confirmation hearings before the Senate Intelligence Committee. After the hearings are concluded, the Committee will vote on whether or not my appointment merits a general vote by the Senate at large. If the vote passes, my appointment will be either confirmed or denied.ö

ôHow long will that take?ö

ôWell, normally, most appointments take roughly three months. Since we need a CIA Director almost immediately, IÆm guessing that the whole process will take about a month at most.ö

ôI donÆt believe this,ö Michelle stated as she stood up, having had enough. ôYou want to uproot our family, our lives and for what? A promotion for a job that we didnÆt even know about? WeÆve been married for eighteen years, Chuck. Yet you still didnÆt trust me enough to tell me what you really did for a living.ö She shook her head in disgust before looking at back at him. ôI thought I knew you, Chuck,ö she said with finality as she stormed out of the room.

ôMichelleà.ö Chuck called back at his wife. He made as if to follow but was halted by a feminine hand on his arm.

ôLet her go, Chuck,ö Ellie said gently as she touched his arm. ôShe needs some time to think. ItÆs a lot to take in.ö

Chuck smiled in gratitude a little sadly.

ôDonÆt thank me just yet,ö Ellie told him as she saw her brother's silent gratitude. ôIÆm just as angry as she is. Even more so. But unlike her, I know that you did it for a good reason. Up here . . . ö She pointed to her head. ô . . . I understand why you did it. But down here . . . ö She pointed to her heart. ô . . . ItÆs going to take some time for me to accept that.ö

ôThanks.ö Chuck turned to gaze as Alex, Morgan, and Casey, who had decided to answer any questions that the rest of the family had to ask. He frowned as he saw Mark almost enraptured as he listened to CaseyÆs time as a Marine. Mark had always looked up to his Uncle Casey and it seemed like even now, he still respected him.

I hope he doesnÆt want to follow in CaseyÆs footsteps, he thought. It would kill him if Sammie or Mark decided to go into government service just like he did.

After all these years, Chuck finally knew how his own father, Stephen Bartowski had felt when Chuck was a possible CIA candidate. Yet at the same time, Chuck knew that while he had the same feelings, he would do things differently than his father.

Chuck had hated the fact that throughout his life, many people - Bryce, his father, and others - had tried to influence his life and steer him in the direction that they believed to be the best for them. Unlike his father, heÆd let his children choose their own fate rather than have him choose theirs. If they wanted to join the military or the intelligence community, Chuck would plainly tell them as it was. No sugar coating, no exaggerations whatsoever. They would know exactly what was expected of them and what they were getting into. Once they had all the information, Mark and Sammie would be free to make their own choices and Chuck would respect and support whatever they chose.

His sisterÆs words brought him back to reality.

ôSheÆll come around Chuck,ö Ellie told him. ôJust give it some time.ö

I hope so, Chuck silently replied.

Thoughts?

Please review.

 

[Cephir]

I already reviewed this on ff.net (I actually think I was the first to review Ch. 4) - but since you said this was for me I feel somewhat obliged to respond and say thanks.

Oh - and if you're still trolling for names for facts:

Chuck's Mom

 

[Frank Cadena]

Ah, good to see some of the facts from the season finale is being used. I find it funny that Alex is married to Morgan and I don't it in any negative way at all. I just would have loved to see the courtship of the couple and Casey's reaction to it.

I also want to see Carina and Alex going at it over Morgan. Maybe make it an omake? Anyways, I'm happy to read more of this and am looking forward for more.

 

[cast2007]

Here's chapter five.

Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I donÆt own Chuck

Authors Note: Thanks for Foxmac for betaing this fic and helping me with the ending of this chapter.

Also no offense to Koreans but Kimchi is disgusting. I donÆt know how you can eat that stuff.


Chuck And MichelleÆs Bedroom

Michelle Bartowski was not having a good day to say the least. Her husband of eighteen years had turned out to be not the man that she thought he was. He wasnÆt the lovable computer geek. No. Chuck Bartowski turned out to be a CIA Agent and had been lying to her the whole time that they had been known each other. To add salt on the proverbial wound, she and Ellie were the only ones who didnÆt know. His friends, family, and as if almost everyone else knew about his secret life. She was his wife, for GodÆs sake. She had every right to know about this. Yet Chuck hadnÆt even mentioned a word to her for the last eighteen years. Hell, the only reason why he had mentioned it now was due to a promotion of all things!

Michelle sighed. This was so fucking unbelievable. Why did this happen to her of all people? What had she done to deserve this? She remembered watching ôTrue Liesö as a teenager and laughing when Jamie Lee CurtisÆ character, Helen Tasker, unwittingly discovered the fact that her husband, Harry Tasker, played by the former governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger, was actually a spy. It was so obvious that an idiot could have realized that there was something fishy going on.

It wasnÆt so funny anymore, Michelle thought. Chuck had been able to pull the wool over her eyes for the last eighteen years and sheÆd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. Chuck was good. Very good in fact. He had to be in order to have been able to live with the charade for so long.

HeÆs a CIA Agent. Of course heÆs good, Michelle's inner voice told her. She sighed. SheÆd always wondered why Chuck had to deal with so many computer problems and why Intech had never hired additional staff to deal with the near constant demand for information security specialists or whatever the hell Chuck called them.

A gentle knock on Michelle's door jarred her from her thoughts. ôGo away Chuck,ö she snapped. ôI donÆt want to talk to you.ö

ôMichelle, it's me. Kathleen,ö the voice behind the door replied. ôCan I come in?ö

ôDid Chuck put you up to this?ö

ôChuck knows IÆm here but no, he didnÆt ask me to come talk to you. IÆm doing this of my own accord.ö

Michelle sighed. ôFine. Come in,ö she replied and unlocked the door.

Kathleen looked at the woman in front of her before she began. ôMichelle, I know this hard for you to hear but I know what youÆre going through right now. And--ö

ôReally?ö Michelle spat. ôYou think you know whatÆs going through my mind at this very moment? My husband has lied to me for eighteen years!ö Her voice was getting louder and louder as her tone become more and more hysterical.

ôI thought mine was dead for twenty-one,ö Kathleen replied simply.

ôWhat?ö Michelle turned to look at Kathleen sharply.

ôTake a seat and IÆll tell you a story.ö Kathleen sat down and patted the empty space beside her.

Curious despite her anger, Michelle complied.

Kathleen was quiet as she gathered her thought before she began. ôI was twenty-three years old, fresh out of San Diego State with a teaching credential when I met a Marine Lieutenant by the name of Alexander Coburn during a night out with my friends. We hit it off pretty well and one thing led to another. And before we knew it, we were engaged.ö She smiled at the memory. ôAlex and I were deeply in love. I moved up and left San Diego, choosing to move to Oceanside to be near him at Camp Pendleton. Alex couldnÆt stop bragging to his fellow officers about how lucky he was to be marrying me. I was the envy of all the local women. The wedding was to be held the spring.

ôEverything was perfect,ö Kathleen continued. ôShortly before the wedding, Alex had been ordered to deploy to Honduras for an urgent mission. I told myself that everything was going to be okay and that once that mission was done, Alex would be coming home. In fact while he was away, I found out that I was pregnant. It was a perfect welcome home present for my future husband. But it wasnÆt to be. During my last call to him, just when I was about to tell him the good news, the phone cut out. A few days later, a grim faced Marine along with a chaplain knocked on my door telling me that Alex was dead.

ôI was devastated,ö Kathleen continued after pausing for a moment. ôMy life was turned upside-down in that one moment. My fiancÚ was dead and I was going to be a mother.ö She paused again to regain her composure.

ôIt was too painful for me to stay where I was,ö Kathleen said, picking up the tale. ôOceanside and San Diego held too many memories for me: of Alex and the life I would have had. So I moved to Los Angeles and got a teaching job at the Los Angeles Unified School District teaching elementary school. I left everything of my old life behind save one thing. When my daughter was born, I named her Alex in memory of her father, who had died a hero defending his country.ö

Kathleen sighed. ôFlash forward twenty-one years later. IÆm in my forties and Alex was just about to graduate from college with a degree in Criminal Justice. Everything was going just fine when some international terrorist group tried to kill me. And lo and behold, my former fiancÚ decides to show up.ö

ôYou mean that Alexander Coburn isàö Michelle's eyes widened in realization.

ôJohn CaseyÆs real name?ö Kathleen gently asked. ôYes.ö she said with a smile. ôWhen I found out, I was beyond angry. You see, IÆd grieved for Alex for years. Even after he was dead for years I never got into another committed relationship. Sure, I saw a few men during that time but every time I was about to commit, I backed out. They were nice and were decent people, but it just didn't feel right.ö

ôSo after all of that you just magically took him back?ö Michelle asked sarcastically.

Kathleen laughed. ôFar from it. I yelled and screamed at him for hours. I told him to never to come near me or my daughter again. I wanted no part of his life and told him that I didnÆt care if he lived or died. I thought that I would never see Alex Coburn or John Casey or whatever he called himself those days, again.

ôThe next day, a young CIA Agent by the name of Charles Carmichael knocked on my door asking to speak with me. I told him to go away and that I wanted no part of my former fiancÚs life. He replied that since he did save my life that I owed him enough to hear him out. Grudgingly, I let him in my house. Once he was inside, Chuck explained the circumstances behind why Alex faked his death and the fact that he had no choice. He went on to say that my words had broken John and that he was currently drinking himself into a nearly permanent drunken stupor and asked me to forgive him.

ôWhen I told Chuck the reason why I said those words, he told me deep down inside that I didnÆt truly mean what I said. I told him he was full of it but deep down inside, I knew he was right.

ôJohn, as he calls himself now, and I apologized to one another. He was sorry for the manner in which he broke the news to me while I told him that I was too angry to even listen to him. However, we didnÆt magically get back together like something out of a tacky romance movie. We werenÆt the optimistic young teacher and Marine Lieutenant anymore. Both of us had changed over the years. Some changers were for the better and some were for the worse. We decided to get to know one another just as friends. If something were to develop between the two of us, then both of us were open to pursue it as long as we want to. However, for AlexÆs sake we agreed to be civil to one another no matter what happened.

ôIt took us a long time to work out our issues with one another and it didnÆt develop instantly. It took us ten years to finally get to the point in which both of us were comfortable with marriage and I took the name of Kathleen Casey.ö

ôWhy Casey instead of Coburn?ö

Kathleen sighed. ôFor security reasons. To the world at large with the exception of Chuck, my daughter, and her family, my old fiancÚ Alexander Coburn died in 1989 in Nicaragua. It would be suspicious if my former fiancÚ were to miraculously reappear after being dead for decades. To our neighbors and friends, John Casey just happens to be my husband and a wonderful stepfather to my daughter. Even now I donÆt call my husband by his birth name except for in private.

Kathleen turned to look at Michelle, giving her hands an empathetic pat. ôIÆm not asking you to forgive Chuck for what heÆs done. All IÆm asking is for you to give him a chance. Maybe two of you will end up closer than before like me and John did, or maybe the two of you will drift apart because of this. I donÆt know. But I do know that Chuck deserves at shot at the very least.ö


At The Same Time

ôI guess youÆre mom is pissed at me?ö Chuck told his two children as he tried to break the ice.

Ellie, Devon, and their kids had moved to the backyard. While Casey, Alex, and Morgan had left to watch over them, leaving Chuck alone in the room with his two kids.

ôIf mom wasnÆt pissed, IÆd hate to see her angry,ö Mark replied.

Chuck laughed hollowly. ôMe too,ö he replied. ôSo, do you have any questions? Bear in mind that I canÆt answer everything.ö

Sammie stared at him for some time before asking, ôSo youÆve been a spy this entire time?ö

ôYeah.ö

ôEven before we were born?ö

ôEven before I even met your mother,ö Chuck replied, then paused. ôWell, I take that back. I think I might have briefly met your mother once at one of your Aunt EllieÆs parties right after she got out of med school.ö

ôIs there anything else we need to know?ö Mark asked in a tone sarcastically. ôAny more skeletons in the closet that youÆve been hiding?ö

You donÆt know the start of it son. He thought before laughing. ôInteresting choice of words. Just for future reference, son, never ever ask a CIA Agent what you need to know. You may not like the resultsö

ôPresent company included?ö MarkÆs eyebrow rose.

ôTouchÚ.ö

ôAre there any other things we need to know about our family?ö Sammie asked seriously.

ôWow, Sammie. You donÆt pull any punches,ö Chuck remarked. ôWell,ö he said after a while. ôIÆm not the first person to be a spy in the family. IÆm actually a third generation spy.ö

ôReally?ö Sammie's eyes widened.

ôYeah. My grandpa from my momÆs side served in the OSS during World War II. I looked up his file and he did a lot of crazy stuff back in the day, stuff that you couldnÆt believe. My other grandpa served in the Polish Army as an infantry Lieutenant and later on as a commando in the Free Polish Army before moving to the US after the war.ö

ôWow,ö Sammie breathed. ôThatÆs one generation. Does that mean that our grandpa and grandma wereàö she prompted.

ôSpies, yes,ö Chuck nodded. ôBoth my mom and dad worked for the CIA.ö He paused. ôAnd both gave their lives in the line of duty to protect the ones that they loved.ö

ôDoes Aunt Ellie know?ö

ôNo, and I would appreciate it if you kept that to yourselves.ö

ôGreat, Dad,ö Sammie said, her tone with hint of sarcasm. ôMore secrets.ö

ôNo Sammie,ö Chuck gently admonished. ôAs I'm her brother, she should hear the truth from me. The last thing she needs is to hear it third hand from either of you.ö

ôSo, Dad,ö Mark interjected quickly changing the topic. ôWhatÆs it like being a spy?ö

ôWow, another tough one.ö Chuck paused as he thought how to best answer that prickly question. Then he fell back on an old clichÚ. ôItÆs complicated.ö

ôUncomplicated it then,ö Sammie told him.

ôWell,ö Chuck began. ôBeing a spy is a being a multitude of things: soldier, athlete, whatever was needed but most importantly you have to be an actor. But unlike an actor if you mess up, the director doesnÆt yell at you. You die.ö

ôWell, seeing as youÆve been able to pull the wool over my eyes for nearly twenty years,ö Michelle remarked as she stood in the doorway. ôI say that you were pretty damn good at it.ö She turned and addressed their children. ôKids, I need to speak with your father alone.ö

Wordlessly, the twins left the room not before Mark whispered softly to Chuck, ôGood luck, Dad.ö

ôMichelle,ö Chuck began.

ôSave it, Chuck,ö Michelle said, holding a hand in front of her. ôJust listen to me. Chuck, weÆve known each other for eighteen years and have been married for sixteen. IÆm your wife. IÆm supposed to be your trusted confidant, the one you turn to when you need help, the one that youÆre supposed to turn to when you have your problems. Yet despite all of that, you never ever told me. Why?ö

ôMichelle,ö Chuck began. ôI would have liked to say that I kept this from you solely for your own protection butàö

ôBut?ö Michelle gently prodded.

ôThe truth is I did it for my own selfish reasons.ö

ôWhy?ö

ôThroughout my career as an Agent, IÆve done a lot of things that IÆm not proud of doing yet were necessary to protect the people that I love. IÆve got blood on my hands, Michelle. Blood that will never leave me until the day I die. Yet in spite of all of the nasty business that I had to deal with, I knew that there was one place, a refuge from the rest of the world and its ugliness that I could escape to.

ôI never told you because I was afraid that if you knew what I really did for a living,ö Chuck continued. ôThat youÆd leave me.ö He paused for a moment, sighing. ôIf you want, IÆll leave and never come back. You can take the house, the kids, everything. Say the word and Chuck Bartowski will disappear from the face of the Earth forever.ö

ôChuck,ö Michelle said as she embraced him in a hug. ôIÆve invested time, blood, and tears in this marriage. IÆll be damned if I throw this all way without a fight.ö


Naval Air Station
Point Mugu

ôHoney why did we have to drive all the way from Burbank to Ventura County again?ö Michelle asked her husband. ôWhy couldnÆt we have just driven to Bob Hope and taken a flight to Washington?ö

With orders to report to Naval Air Station, Point Mugu to await further instruction, Chuck and his team along with their families had packed up their stuff and had driven all the way to Point Mugu, much to his wifeÆs exasperation.

ôI donÆt know,ö Chuck replied. ôAll I know is that I have orders to report here and thatÆs what we've done.ö

ôBut it would have been more convenient to use Bob Hope or even LAX,ö Michelle objected. ôWeÆd probably be halfway to Washington by now.ö

ôMichelle, the first rule of government service is when they say jump you say how high,ö Chuck told her. ôIt doesnÆt matter how stupid the order may sound, you still got to do it.ö

ôThatÆs insane.ö

ôWelcome to government service, Mrs. Bartowski,ö Casey grunted.

ôWhich brings us to rule two,ö Morgan added.

ôHurry up and wait,ö the three men and one woman chorused at once then laughed.

ôI thought the government would be more organized than this,ö Michelle huffed.

ôThe government? Organized? Are you on a different planet?ö Casey asked her as if she were insane.

Michelle was about to retort when Chuck jumped in. ôBad, Casey. No shattering my wifeÆs ideals about an efficient and responsible government or else.ö

ôWhat happens if I donÆt?ö Casey dared to ask.

ôThen IÆll take your birthday present and give it to Morgan,ö Chuck told the retired NSA Agent.

ôOh, no,ö Casey said sarcastically in as high a pitched voice as he could muster. ôIÆm going to miss out on a fifty dollar gift card to ApplebeeÆs or TGI FridayÆs. What am I possibly going to do now?ö

ôFine then.ö Chuck turned to Morgan. ôMorgan?ö

ôYes, boss?ö Morgan replied warily, seeing the gleam in Chuck's eyes.

ôDo you want a fully restored M1903 Springfield bolt action service rifle that was used by the Marines in Belleau Wood during the First World War?ö

ôSure why not,ö Morgan shrugged good-naturedly. ôI might not be a rifle guy, but IÆd be proud to own a fine piece of Marine Corps history. In fact,ö he added, grinning. ôIÆll mount it in the fire place.ö He turned to Alex. ôWhat do you think, honey?ö

ôI think that it would be a very good idea,ö Alex replied going along with it.

ôWait!ö Casey interjected. ôIÆll behave.ö

ôGood boy.ö

ôSoàChuck,ö Morgan began. ôMy birthdayÆs next month what are you getting me?ö

ôThat my friend is a secret.ö Chuck grinned. ôI could tell you but IÆd have to kill you after that.ö

ôIÆd like to see you try, CIA,ö Morgan dared.

ôHeh, you Major Grimes?ö Chuck scoffed. ôI wonÆt even need to try.ö

ôBoys,ö Alex scolded them. ôPlay nice. YouÆre scaring the civilians.ö

Chuck turned to see his family staring at him in shock. ôSorry,ö he said sheepishly.

ôBoys will be boys,ö Alex muttered.

ôAlex,ö Ellie said. ôMy respect for you has just shot up exponentially.ö

ôWhy thank you,ö Alex replied before turning to regard the three men in front of her. ôAt least someone here appreciates me for putting up with these three Neanderthals.ö

Chuck was about to protest, when he spotted an airplane coming over the horizon. ôLooks like our rideÆs here.ö

ôWhat is that?ö Michelle asked, pointing at the aircraft after it landed.

ôThat, honey, is a Boeing 797 jet airliner,ö Chuck replied. ôThe next generation jumbo jet, successor to the 747 and larger than the European A380.ö

ôEuro piece of shit,ö Casey grunted.

ôWhatÆs with the paint job then?ö Michelle asked. The plane was full of government markings with the words USAF clearly marked on them. ôWhy would the Air Force own a passenger plane?ö

Chuck inwardly grinned. ôWell, honey, this particular aircraft is a heavily modified Boeing 797, in fact one of two being produced by the order of the US Government and will be assigned to the US Air ForceÆs 89th Mobility Wing.ö He turned to Casey and asked, ôHow much did each one cost again?ö

ôSomewhere around the lines of four hundred million a pop I wager,ö Casey replied.

ôFour hundred million dollars for a single airliner?ö Ellie exclaimed. ôWho needs such an expensive plane? Do you know what we could do with that money?ö

ôWell, sis, I sure hope that you donÆt tell the President that. After all this is his plane.ö

ôYou mean that this is Air Force One?ö Ellie's eyes goggled at the implication.

ôNot exactly,ö Chuck hedged. ôThey only use that name if the President is on board the plane. But yes, this will be the next Presidential aircraft.ö

ôMr. Bartowski?ö said a foreign voice with a southern drawl. ItÆs owner wearing an Air Force uniform with a ColonelÆs insignia.

ôThatÆs me,ö Chuck said.

ôColonel Frank Shelby at your service.ö

Seeing the man and hearing his name Chuck flashed.

Frank David Shelby. Born in Gulfport, Mississippi on March 3, 1985. Graduated from the US Air Force Academy in 2007. One of the few lucky graduates assigned to fly the F-22 Raptor, then at the time the United StatesÆ most advanced air superiority fighter. Participated in the Second Korean War in 2013 and was one of the first pilots to score an air-to-air kill against the North Korean PeopleÆs Air ForceÆs MiG-29s, the first air-to-air victory since Desert Storm. Likewise served in the Greater Asian War between the PeopleÆs Republic of China and India and its allies including the United States. Increased his kill count to six, shooting down a number of Chinese Su-27s and J-10s. Commanded the First Fighter Wing at Langley Air Force Base up until recently in which he was appointed as the new pilot of Air Force One.

Morgan and Casey tensed up slightly, recognizing that Chuck had flashed. They relaxed when they saw him take the man's hand and smile at him.

ôMy apologies for being late,ö Shelby added. ôThe eggheads that the factory in Seattle wanted to do some last minute checks before we left Seattle. The President figured that if youÆre going to arrive in DC, why not arrive in style.ö

ôNo problem, Colonel,ö Chuck said. ôWeÆre honored for the opportunity.ö He turned to his family. ôCome on. LetÆs not keep the good Colonel waiting.ö


Press Lounge

ôWow this is the life,ö Mark remarked as he commandeered a plush leather seat, leaning back with an appreciative sigh. ôDo you always travel like this?ö he asked out of the blue.

ôNo,ö Chuck replied shaking his head. ôWhen you travel on the governmentÆs dime, you travel as cheaply as possible. Most of the flights I took were either economy class or even worse on a military transport,ö he added distastefully.

ôMilitary transport?ö Mark asked curious.

Chuck turned to Casey. ôDo you want to do the honors?ö

ôSure why not,ö Casey grunted and began. ôImagine being in a plane a bit smaller than this one but instead of all the creature comforts: plush leather seats, air conditioning, and the like, thereÆs none of that. Just an empty space to store whateverÆs needed. Then cram as many troops, supplies, and whatever you need in a war zone and take an eight-hour flight.

ôYouÆre cramped, your body is sore from sitting on the most uncomfortable position and to make it even worse, youÆre packed in so tight that you can literally smell the breath of everyone around you. By the time you land, youÆre so sick of everyone around you and so desperate to get out of the plane that you donÆt care that youÆve just dropped into a war zone.ö Casey paused. ôYou know I think that the military does that on purpose. Otherwise some of the troops wouldnÆt leave the plane. But I digress.

ôTo make things even better, you know plane that youÆre on?ö Casey asked rhetorically. ôItÆs piloted by someone who barely graduated from flight school.ö

ôWhyÆs that?ö Mark asked.

ôWhen the Air ForceÆs newest officers graduate from flight school,ö Casey replied. ôThe top of the class are usually assigned to train on the best and most advanced fighters and bombers. The middle of the pack gets to fly the older fighters and bombers. While those at the bottom of the pile, they get to fly the transports.

ôBut IÆm not finished,ö Casey continued. ôThereÆs one slight problem when youÆre on a military transport. The transport youÆre on is slow and big as hell. ItÆs designed to haul cargo, after all, not for maneuverability. Normally, itÆs not bad but when youÆre in a war zone itÆs like having a giant sign that says æPlease kill me.Æö He turned to Chuck. ôRemember that one time in Korea?ö

ôOh, yeah,ö Chuck said with a grimace. ôFrom the pit of my stomach.ö

ôWhat happened?ö Ellie asked. She knew that she wasnÆt going to like the answer.

ôAfter finishing a successful op,ö Casey began. ôWe hitched a ride on a C-17 from Kusan Air Force Base to Japan. It was your standard med-evac flight containing American and allied casualties from the front lines in Korea to Japan. By that time, the US and ROK air power had achieved almost complete air superiority over the Norks--ö

ôNorks?ö Sammie interrupted, confused.

ôNorth Koreans,ö Chuck supplied.

ôWait. IsnÆt there only one Korea?ö Mark asked.

Casey held his head in his hands. ôWhen were you born again?ö he asked.

ô2014.ö

ôDamn, I feel old,ö Casey mumbled to himself. ôKorea used to be two countries: North and South Korea until after the Second Korean War in which the two merged into the United Republic of Korea. Just like there used to be East and West Germany back in the Cold War.ö

ôThe Cold War? WasnÆt that like a hundred years ago?ö Sammie asked, her face scrunched up in concentration.

ôIÆm not even going to answer that one.ö Casey turned to Chuck. ôWhat the hell are they teaching these kids anyways?ö

ôDonÆt blame me,ö Chuck replied putting his hands up. ôI didn't plan the school curriculum.ö

ôOf course not. LetÆs not blame Bartowski,ö Casey said sarcastically. ôAfter all how many times has he fu--ö

ôLetÆs get back to the story,ö Michelle interrupted.

ôOkay,ö Casey said, still glaring at Chuck. ôSo we were sitting back enjoying our flight when a Nork MiG-29 somehow got the jump on us and luckily for us it opened up with its thirty mm cannon.ö

ôLuckily?ö Ellie asked.

ôWell, if it had missiles weÆd have been dead,ö Morgan supplied.

ôAnyways,ö Casey said, transferring his glare to Mrogan. ôThe MiG came from above and caused one of our starboard engines to go out. By this time, the crew realized what was going on and was calling a mayday and spamming every channel available to get some fighters to take out the MiG ASAP.

ôSoon after, the Nork pilot came in for another pass. This time, however, he managed to hit the cockpit killing the flight crew and leaving us with no one flying the damn thing.ö

ôSo what did you do?ö Mark asked, hanging to Casey's every word.

ôWhat we had to,ö Casey replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing to do. ôMe, Grimes, and your dad ran into the cockpit and took take control of the aircraft.ö

ôHow did you manage to fly the plane?ö Mark asked Chuck.

ôAll those years of playing video games paid off,ö Chuck replied, leaving out the fact that he had flashed on the controls.

ôSo,ö Casey continued. ôJust when we couldnÆt think that it would get any worse, we found out that the MiG had poked a couple of holes too many in the airframe and that the cargo bay was depressurizing fast, forcing us to bring the aircraft to sea level ASAP.ö

ôWhy would you have to head towards sea level?ö Mark asked a frown.

ôWhen youÆre twenty thousand feet above sea level,ö Casey informed Mark, matter-of-factually. ôThe air up there has little or no oxygen and the temperature is very cold.ö He pointed to the window. ôIf that window there were to suddenly collapse, the room temperature would drop by at least thirty degrees. WeÆd have little or no breathable air and weÆd be sucked out of the airframe like a vacuum cleaner.ö

ôWhat a wonderful picture there Casey,ö Morgan remarked.

ôWell, he asked for it. Now where was I?ö Casey paused. ôAh,ö he continued. ôWhile we were rapidly descending, the MiG went in for yet another pass and tore our hull to pieces. There was a big gaping hole in the airframe and the port wing was barely holding on. WeÆve got only got one functional engine with two on fire and the fourth blown to hell. WeÆre all hanging in for dear life.

ôJust when we thought that the MiG was going to finish us all off, the cavalry arrived. A pair of F/A-18 Super Hornets from the USS Ronald Reagan blew the MiG out of the sky and saved our bacon. Even though the MiG was gone, there was still the problem of us being in the air. With our current state of affairs, we couldnÆt stay in the air much longer. So after getting on the horn with air traffic control, the decision was made to attempt a landing at Gimhae International Airport in Busan, the nearest runway available.

ôAs we approached the runway, we noticed that the entire place has been cordoned off with emergency responders surrounding the airport waiting to get us out of the plane as soon as we landed. When we were touching down, the entire aircraft was shaking as if it's about to fall apart any minute. The second we hit the ground, the right wing snapped off. Luckily for us, however, we still have our landing gear intact. As we were rapidly decelerating, we were holding on to whatever we could find bracing for the inevitable impact.

ôThe second we stopped, the three of us immediately got the hell out of the cockpit knowing full well that the plane could blow at any second and began to evacuate the rest of the passengers. It wasnÆt until after we all got out of the plane and had stopped to catch our breath on the tarmac when your dad suddenly collapses. We were so full of adrenalin that it wasnÆt until then that we noticed our injuries.

ôMe, I got lucky,ö Casey replied at their unasked questions. ôAll I had were a couple of cuts and bruises. Grimes here got a fractured arm and a dislocated knee. But your dad? Your dad got it the worst. Evidently, shrapnel from had shattered his left shin and broke half of his ribs. He ended up spending a month in a Korean hospital until he was well enough to be transferred stateside. Oh. We all got treated for frostbite as well.ö

ôYeah,ö Chuck added. ôI got a bit tired of rice and kimchi pretty quickly.ö

ôSo thatÆs why you donÆt like Korean food,ö Ellie said as realization dawned on her. She had never understood why Chuck had always refused to go to Korean town for a bite to eat.

ôWait,ö Michelle added. ôYou told me that you were in a car accident.ö

ôThe intelligence community along with the military created a cover story,ö Chuck said with an apologetic and sad look on his face. ôThe last thing they wanted was for a crack intelligence team to be compromised.ö

Michelle frowned, not liking the old adage of ignorance is bliss.

ôHoney,ö Chuck gently said as he played a placating hand on her arm. ôI know it's hard but youÆre going to have to accept the fact that a lot of the things that IÆve done youÆre never going to know about.ö

ôWhat happened after that?ö Devon asked, changing the subject.

ôWell as nominal members of the military,ö Casey replied, glad for the change. ôGrimes and myself got the Silver Star for our actions, while Bartowski here got the CIA equivalent, the Intelligence Star. After a couple months of bed rest, we went back to work.ö

ôJust like that?ö Devon asked surprised.

ôYeah. Just like that,ö Casey confirmed. ôWell thatÆs nothing compared to that one HALO drop over Pakistan the three of us did in 2019 during the Greater Asian War.ö

ôCasey,ö Chuck groaned. ôWhy must you scare the living daylights out of my family by telling them of our escapades all those years ago?ö

ôWell two reasons Bartowski,ö Casey replied. ôOne, we donÆt have anything else to do and IÆd like to keep the kids here where I can see them. Rather than have to worry about them poking their noses into something that they shouldnÆt be looking at. But two and most importantly, you made my life hell for three years. PaybackÆs a bitch Bartowski,ö Casey grinned.

ôDamn it,ö Chuck sighed. He did have that coming.

ôHALO?ö Awesome scrunched up his face as he tried to remember where he had heard the term before.

ôStands for High Altitude Low Opening,ö Morgan explained. ôYou jump out of a plane anywhere from 25,000 feet and higher above sea level and go into free fall until the last two to one thousand or so. All three of us,ö Morgan paused. ôWait now itÆs only the two of us now that Grandpa here retired.ö he pointed at Casey, ôAre certified for HALO.ö

ôSo youÆre in free fall for at least twenty thousand feet? Sounds awesome. Must be a let down from the adrenalin rush once you pull your chute.ö Awesome tried relating to the other men.

ôNot really,ö Morgan replied. ôYou still got people on the ground doing their best to kill you.ö

ôOh,ö Awesome replied chastened as he realized the implications.

The remainder of the flight to Washington was spent in silence.

 

[cast2007]

Hey guys here's a rough draft for chapter six. I hope you like it.

Chapter Six

The Rose Garden
The White House
Washington, DC

ôMy fellow Americans,ö President Martin began behind the podium with both Director Franklin and Chuck on either side of him.

Chuck shifted uncomfortably as he stared into the camera. Years of working in the shadows had made him weary of the cameras. He had spent his entire career working in secret to protect his country, and now he and his secret life would be revealed for all to see.

ôAs of yesterday, Director Franklin has informed me of his intention to retire from public service in order to spend more time with his family and enjoy his remaining years in relative peace.ö

Officially, that's what the Press Corps and the general public were being told. In exchange for Franklin stepping down immediately, he was asked - in no uncertain terms - to throw the entirety of his political connections to ensure that Chuck would be confirmed by the Senate in the fastest manner possible as well as a written agreement that he would remain out of the public eye for the rest of his life. Franklin would be granted immunity from prosecution.

Unofficially, what the Press Corps and the rest of the public didn't know was that the government got to avoid revealing one of the most embarrassing national security disasters since the Chinese Navy was able to sink the USS George Washington and the rest of its battle group in the first shots of the Greater Asian War. The topmost of that would be Director Franklin's inadvertent misplacement of highly secured government property. His actions would have then led to his formal charge of conspiring and abetting to help foreign powers. In short, treason. The charge itself was one of the most sensational of all charges laid against a highly placed government official and one of the hardest to prove. According to Article Three, Section Three of the Constitution, it stated that no person could be convicted of treason unless there were two witnesses to the same act or an open admission in court. While the government did have the witnesses needed, the fact that all of the key witnesses were paid escorts in the employ of a high-class escort service used by both sides of the aisle would literally unleash a political shit storm on both the Republicans and Democrats. Something that both parties desperately wanted to avoid.

It wasnÆt what Franklin deserved but it benefited both parties. He got to avoid being sent to Fort Leavenworth for the rest of his life. Something that no sane person wanted to be confined to, as being sent to live with the most violent criminals was nearly a death sentence unto itself. The fact that Franklin was in his fifties, out of shape, and had never worked a hard day's work in his life meant that he would be lucky to last a single week let alone a day behind bars.

ôAs a result,ö President Martin continued. ôIt is my honor to appoint Charles Bartowski as the next Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.

ôMr. Bartowski is a patriot and a man dedicated to the defense and well-being of this country. His service of over twenty years as an agent of the Central Intelligence Agency has been exemplary and is a testament to his dedication to the security of Americans everywhere.

ôI believe that as a veteran operative, Mr. Bartowski is more than well qualified to lead our nationÆs premier intelligence service, and I am confident that he will provide the leadership that the men and women of the CIA deserve.

ôI am confident that with the vacancy left by Director FranklinÆs departure, the Senate Select Intelligence Committee will hold a swift and fair confirmation. In the meantime, Deputy Director Hayworth will serve as Acting Director until the Senate formally confirms Mr. Bartowski.

ôThank you and that is all,ö Martin finished. ôThere will be no questions at this time.ö


Short While Later
The Oval Office
The White House
Washington, DC

ôMr. Bartowski, IÆm glad to finally meet your wonderful family,ö President Martin said as he greeted ChuckÆs family in the Oval Office. ôI trust that youÆre settling in?ö

Upon arrival, Chuck, his team, and their families had taken up residence at a five-bedroom house located in Arlington, West Virginia not far away from the Capitol. The government had covered the cost of rent, utilities, and other living expenses. While it was crowded, it did fulfill its purpose of serving as a place to live and operate out of until Chuck was confirmed as Director and everyone could find appropriate housing in and around Langley.

ôYou must be Mrs. Bartowski,ö the President said as he shook Michelle's hand.

ôItÆs an honor to meet you Mr. President,ö Michelle replied.

ôThat honorÆs all mine. Your husbandÆs a hero. You must be proud of what heÆs accomplished throughout his career.ö

ôI am,ö she replied with a slight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Despite the fact that he lied to me all of these years, she thought darkly.

ôMrs. Bartowski, my hat goes off to you. I donÆt know how you can see your husband off knowing full well that heÆs putting his life at risk on a regular basis for all those years. I know that I couldnÆt have done it.ö

ôUh, thank you, Mr. President,ö Michelle said awkwardly. Unlike Chuck, she wasnÆt a good liar.

Either the President didnÆt notice or more likely chose to ignore her pitiful attempt at a lie as he quickly turned his attention to her children. ôAnd these must be your children?ö

ôYes, they are,ö Chuck replied proudly.

ôTwins?ö

ôYeah. It was a complete surprise. We were only expecting one but weÆre more than happy to have both of them.ö Chuck pointed to Mark as he began the introductions. ôMy son, Mark Morgan Bartowski.ö Then he gestured to Sammie. ôAnd my daughter, Samantha Lisa Bartowski.ö

ôExcellent.ö The President offered his hand to Mark.

ôIt's an honor to meet you, uh, Mr. President.ö Mark stammered.

ôWhy, thank you, young man,ö Martin said as he shook his hand before turning to ChuckÆs daughter.

ôSame here,ö Sammie blushed nervously. She was definitely out of her element.

ôYou all must be proud of your father and the things that heÆs accomplished. Many Americans can safely sleep at night because of men like him watching over us,ö President Martin said proudly. ôSpeaking of which, weÆre having a state dinner with the British Prime Minister tonight and IÆd like for you, your family, and your team to attend.ö

Michelle frowned. ôWe just arrived two hours ago. Mr. President, IÆm not--ö

ôWe would be honored to attend,ö Chuck interjected quickly.

ôSplendid,ö the President replied, rubbing his hands together with suppressed glee. ôWeÆll see you tonight at seven. Oh, if you need anything donÆt be afraid to give my Social Secretary a call.ö He handed Chuck a card. ôNow, IÆm sorry to be rude, but I have yet another meeting to get to.ö

ôNot a problem sir,ö Chuck replied before the President left the room, his Secret Service Detail following him.

ôWhat was that for?ö Michelle hissed as soon as the four of them were alone.

ôHoney, you canÆt just tell the President no,ö Chuck shot back.

ôWell, genius,ö Michelle said sarcastically. ôI didnÆt pack any formal wear for any of us.ö She looked at her watch, ôItÆs almost one. How are we going to get anything for the all of us to wear before it starts?ö

ôWell, you donÆt have to worry about me,ö Chuck replied. ôI brought a tux along with two suits in addition to the one that IÆm wearing.ö

MichelleÆs eyebrows rose. ôWhat?ö She hadnÆt seen him speak of packing a tux or any formal wear for that matter.

ôMichelle, this isnÆt California. You donÆt just go around wearing jeans and a t-shirt, especially in the Beltway. Most people here wonÆt take you seriously unless youÆre wearing at least a half-decent suit. In fact here, casual is either a polo shirt or a button up with slacks.ö

ôFine,ö she glowered at him. ôYouÆre covered. What about the rest of us?ö

ôDonÆt worry you and the kids are covered as well,ö Chuck replied. ôI picked the clothes out myself.ö

ôReally?ö Michelle looked at him as if he had grown a second head. Her husbandÆs fashion sense consisted mainly of jeans, his beloved Chuck Taylors, and whatever shirts he could get his hands on from the bargain rack. ôI have to hear this.ö

ôWell, for you,ö Chuck began with a beginnings of a smile. ôYouÆre wearing a navy blue Vera Wang dress that was featured in Vogue during New YorkÆs Fashion Week last year.ö

Michelle frowned. Was it all an act? Did she really know the man that she married? The Chuck she knew would have never known what to do in this situation.

ôDonÆt worry, honey,ö Chuck reassured her, mistaking the reason behind her frown. ôI had it custom made to your measurements.ö

ôWhat are my measurements then?ö Michelle asked somewhat warily.

ô38-32-36,ö Chuck replied casually.

ôHow did you know that?ö Michelle asked surprised as she hadnÆt bought a dress in years. The fact that her husband knew so much about her yet she knew so little about him troubled her greatly.

ôTwo reasons. One, IÆm your husband. Two, IÆm a Special Agent for the CIA and quite possibly the next Director. If I were you, IÆd be more surprised if I didnÆt know your dimensions.ö Chuck reached into his suit pocket and brought out his phone. ôHereÆs a picture,ö he said showing her.

Michelle's eyes rose. She can't fault him for his choice of her apparel. Chuck did have good taste. ôFine. What about shoes then?ö

ôTook care of that. I also packed matching shoes also by Vera Wang, size four wide, by the way.ö

Michelle glowered at Chuck. ôWatch it, buster.ö

ôHey.ö Chuck raised his arms, defensively. ôIt's not my fault that you have feet that are wider than average.ö

ôNice call for avoiding the F-word dad,ö Sammie commented.

ôThanks, Sammie,ö Chuck replied before turning back to his wife. ôDonÆt worry about jewelry and other accessories. I got that covered as well.ö

ôWhat did you get me, Dad?ö Sammie asked hopefully.

ôYouÆll see,ö Chuck replied, cryptically.

Sammie was a typical teenage girl and a fashion addict. ôDad,ö she whined.

ôSorry, sweetie,ö Chuck replied, shaking his head. ôMarkÆs not complaining.ö

ôAs long as it fits IÆm fine,öMark replied with a shrug.

ôBut heÆs a boy!ö Sammie complained.

ôAnd so am I,ö Chuck added.

ôCome on, Daddy,ö Sammie needled. ôCan I just get a hint then?ö

ôFine,ö Chuck relented. ôItÆs made by Ralph Lauren. ThatÆs all IÆm going to say.ö

ôOh, my God!ö Sammie exclaimed, her eyes widening in excitement before reaching for her phone. ôI got to tell my friends.ö She frowned. ôHow come the phoneÆs not working?ö

ôIt shouldnÆt,ö Chuck replied. ôThe White House has a number of cell phone jammers stationed through the premises.ö

ôWhy?ö

ôLetÆs just say that when it comes to security the government doesnÆt take any chances.ö

Ever since the Chinese had wrecked utter havoc on the United StatesÆ infrastructure during the Greater Asian War, having hacked into its computer networks and shutting down a large part of the United StatesÆ satellite communication systems, the US had become completely paranoid about cybersecurity and rightfully so.

ôHow come yours worked then?ö

ôMineÆs connected to a separate and secure government network,ö Chuck replied. ôIn fact, hand me your phones. All of you.ö

Grudgingly the twins handed over their phones.

ôYours too, honey,ö Chuck added addressing his wife.

ôWhy?ö Michelle challenged. Chuck had just uprooted their lives, shattered her perceptions of him and had gotten them into this mess. Enough was enough.

Chuck pointed to SammieÆs phone. ôEach one of these cell phones has a GPS tracking device on them that allows the network administrators to track the exact location of the phone at all times.ö

ôYou mean they can do that?ö

ôItÆs been done ever since cell phones have come out.ö Seeing their blank looks, Chuck asked rhetorically, ôHow else are your phones able to give exact directions to where youÆre going?ö

ôOh,ö all three members of the Bartowski family chorused, understanding dawning in the faces.

Chuck continued. ôThe fact that youÆre related to me means that youÆre now a highly valued target to anyone wanting to either extort money from the US government or working for our enemies. Or even both. Fact is, someone can hack into our wireless carrier and use your phones to quickly discover your location.ö

ôSo when do we get those back?ö Sammie asked hopefully.

ôYou wonÆt,ö Chuck replied, succinctly. ôTheyÆll be dismantled and melted into scrap. YouÆll be given government-issued phones shortly.ö

ôBut, Dad, my phone is my life,ö Sammie whined.

ôSame here,ö Mark chipped in.

ôKids, you can live without a phone. In fact, I didnÆt start using a cell phone until I got out of high school.ö

ôWhat?ö

ôItÆs true,ö Michelle added. ôI didnÆt start using one until college.ö

ôThen what are we going to do? ItÆs not like we have school or anything.ö Mark would regret his choice of words.

ôWell, while you were sleeping on the flight to Washington, I was speaking with your principal. The two of you are on independent study contracts for the remainder of the semester,ö Chuck told them.

ôDad, youÆre evil.ö Mark told him, not liking this one bit.

ôWell, what can I say, IÆm in the CIA,ö Chuck replied grinning.


State Dining Room
The White House
Washington, DC

To say that Michelle Bartowski was out of her element was an understatement. Dressed in an elaborate evening gown - picked out by her husband, no less - and attending a formal state dinner as a guest of the President, she was way out of her comfort zone and nervous. While she had gone to many a black tie event during her stint as a doctor, none of them were nowhere near this magnitude or importance.

Feeling uncomfortable, she shifted nervously once more.

ôHoney, for the last time, youÆre fine,ö Chuck reassured her, noticing his wifeÆs clear discomfort. Unlike his wife, he was more than comfortable in his Armani tuxedo, wearing it as if he were wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

ôYou look great, Michelle,ö Morgan added, dressed in his Army mess dress uniform, showing off his medals and campaign ribbons loud and clear for all to see.

ôTrust me,ö Casey added, also similarly dressed in his Marine Corps equivalent. ôEveryone is looking at the President, the Bristish Prime Minister, and their respective spouses. Unless you slip and fall, no one is going to pay attention to you.ö

ôDaddy, that wasnÆt nice,ö Alex punched him in the arm under the table.

ôHey, itÆs the truth,ö Casey protested.

ôDad, what is this?ö Mark asked as he sipped the soup.

ôItÆs Mulligatawny,ö Chuck replied.

ôMulli-what?ö

ôMulligatawnyÆs a soup with Indian roots taken to England by British troops serving in what is now India and Pakistan,ö Chuck replied.

ôHow do you know all of this, Dad?ö Sammie asked.

ôI spent some time in the Indian subcontinent and acquainted with the food.ö

Michelle winced, ôItÆs spicy.ö It was a bit hot for her taste.

ôWell, I did say it had Indian roots,ö Chuck told her before turning to Mark. ôBy the way, son, youÆre using the wrong spoon.ö

ôHuh?ö Mark asked confusion evident on his face.

ôYouÆre using the desert spoon,ö Chuck gently corrected. ôYouÆre supposed to use the short round one on the right.ö He pointed to the appropriate silverware.

ôReally?ö MarkÆs face turned red.

Chuck also noticed that his daughter had also been guilty of the same error and had discretely switched her silverware thinking that no one had noticed.

ôYeah,ö Chuck replied. ôKids, remember this when you go to a formal banquet. ThereÆs going to be one pair of silverware per course served.ö

ôHow will we know which pair to use?ö Mark asked mentally noting everything down.

ôGo from the outside in,ö Chuck told him.

ôThanks, Dad,ö Mark said gratefully. ôWhat?ö he asked defensively as he saw his sister staring at him as if he had grown a second head. ôI just want to make sure that if I go on a nice date with a girl, I wonÆt make an ass out of myself in the restaurant.ö

ôIs it really that important?ö Sammie asked.

ôTrust me, Sammie,ö Chuck replied. ôItÆs more important than you think. ItÆs the little details that make the extraordinary stand out form the ordinary.ö

ôReally?ö Sammie asked, her eyes brightening.

ôYep.ö Chuck gave his trademark Bartowski grin. ôAnyone can do the big things, but the little things? Only the best remember the little things as well.ö

ôThatÆs why I fell for your father,ö Michelle added as the waiters brought out the main course. ôHe always did manage to remember the smallest details about me.ö

ôWhatÆs that?ö Mark asked pointing at what appeared to be a large loaf of bread with potatoes.

ôBeef Wellington,ö Chuck told his son.

ôBeef what?ö

ôBeef Wellington. ItÆs a beef tenderloin coated with pate and covered with pastry crust.ö

ôPate?ö MarkÆs face scrunched up in disgust.

ôSon, IÆd advise you to eat it before you make any judgments about the food,ö Chuck told his son. ôBesides I know how much you like steak,ö he reasoned with him.

Mark still refused to take a bite.

ChuckÆs eyes narrowed, showing his family a side of him that he had hidden from them for so long. ôSon, this meal was made by the White House Executive Chef, a man that has been cooking long before you were a gleam in my eyes, and a master in his field. I think he knows a bit more about food than you do.ö

ôBut, Dad,ö Mark began to protest, hoping to convince his father.

ôSon, I would highly advise you to eat your dinner or else I will guarantee you that you will not like the consequences one bit,ö Chuck told his son in the same manner as if he were addressing an enemy agent.

Mark nodded, quailing under his fatherÆs orders and began to eat.

ôWas that really necessary?ö Michelle asked.

ôYes. ItÆs been way overdue,ö Chuck told her. ôItÆs about time that he stop acting like an eight year old when it comes to eating food he doesnÆt like.ö It was highly mortifying to Chuck that his son was such a picky eater.

MichelleÆs eyebrows rose. Everyone else stayed silent, not wanting to get into what appeared to be a family affair.

ôHeÆll thank me later on in life.ö Chuck stated simply as he began to cut up the food.


It was amazing how things could change, Michelle thought as she watched Morgan and Alex execute a stately waltz on the dance floor, flowing effortlessly with the music performed live by the National Symphony Orchestra.

After the dinner was done, Casey and Kathleen had taken the twins back to their shared house, much to the protests of both of their children, leaving the two couples to themselves for the rest of the night.

Chuck had left to get refills for their drinks fifteen minutes ago. However, he hadnÆt returned as of yet, leaving her all alone, much to her distress.

ôCan I get a penny for your thoughts?ö a well cultured and accented voice interrupted her brooding.

ôWhat?ö Michelle said temporarily disoriented before turning to see a well-dressed middle-aged man standing right beside her.

ôThat's how you Yanks say that, right?ö

ôYes, it is,ö Michelle admitted. ôAnd you are?ö

ôMy apologies, madam. Cole Barker at your service.ö

ôMichelle Bartowski.ö

The manÆs widened but only for a second. ôAs in . . . ?ö

ôDirector Designate Charles Bartowski? IÆm his wife,ö Michelle admitted.

ôInteresting,ö Barker remarked. ôWell, I can say this. Mr. Bartowski is a very lucky man indeed,ö he told her suavely.

Despite being in her early fifties, there was something about the way that Mr. Barker spoke and acted that made Michelle feel like she was teenage girl back in high school again. ôWhy, thank you,ö she said trying to hide her blush. ôSo what are you doing here?ö she asked.

ôMe? IÆm just a simple businessman and friend of my local MP, who just happened to snag me a spot at this important event,ö Cole replied shrugging.

ôBullshit.ö ChuckÆs voice cut through the air like a knife as he carried two glasses of wine. ôIÆm sorry for taking so long,ö he said, addressing Michelle. ôSenator Greenfield wanted a word with me. Evidently the RNC is having a formal reception next Tuesday and weÆre invited,ö he added as he gave her a glass.

ôHoney!ö Michelle protested.

ôThis man here is having you on,ö Chuck replied grinning. ôHeÆs Sir Cole Barker, Knight Commander of the Order of Saint Michael and Saint George, and Director of MI-6. IsnÆt that right?ö

Cole raised up his hands in mock surrender. ôYou got me,ö he grinned. ôCongratulations on your appointment, Chuck. For what itÆs worth you have the support of MI-6 and the British Crown.ö He turned to Michelle. ôMy apologies, Lady Bartowski, for leading you on. IÆm terribly sorry and I hope youÆre not offended.ö

ôLady Bartowski?ö Michelle asked, puzzled.

ôYou mean he didnÆt tell you?ö Cole asked, surprised.

ôTell me what?ö Michelle glared at Chuck.

ôIt was nothing really,ö Chuck replied trying to wave it off. ôI just happened to be in Britain in the right place and the right time.ö

ôIf thatÆs what you call killing an entire group of Provos, who happened to be holding the heir to the throne, IÆd hate to see what youÆd call something.ö

ôWhat?ö MichelleÆs eyebrows were nearly reaching the top of her forehead. ôThat was you?ö

ôYeah,ö Chuck admitted sheepishly.

ôYour husband here got a knighthood for his actions that day.ö

ôIÆm an Honorary Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order, which entitles me to be addressed by any subject of the British Crown as Sir Charles and you as Lady Bartowski,ö Chuck explained.

ôReally,ö Michelle asked, wondering if she really knew anything about her husband.

An aide quietly came up to Cole, ôDirector, may I interrupt you for a second? The PM would like a word with you.ö

ôIÆm dreadfully sorry to cut this short but alas duty calls. It was great speaking with you again Chuck,ö Cole apologized before walking off the aide.

ôIs there anything else youÆd like to tell me?ö Michelle angrily hissed once everyone was out of hearing range.

Chuck was spared the duty of answering when Alex and Morgan, having just finished their last dance and sensing trouble quickly moved to head off a potential blow up between the two.

ôHey Chuck,ö Morgan said, ôSaw you talking with Director Cole anything we need to know about?ö

ôNo,ö Chuck replied, grateful for the interruption. ôJust the fact that he heard about my appointment and that he along with the British Government offer their support.ö

Morgan snorted, ôChuck, the whole world knows about your appointment.ö

ôYa think? I donÆt know, maybe because it was on national TV?ö Chuck shot back sarcastically.

ôBoys,ö Alex cautioned smiling.

ôAnything else happen?ö

ôOh he did try to pull the moves on Michelle,ö Chuck replied.

ôIt was nothing,ö Michelle interjected.

ôWhat me to punch him for you?ö Morgan asked.

ôYou? Punch the Director of MI-6? Not if you want to create an international incident, especially with one of our closest allies. Besides, shouldnÆt I be the one doing the punching?ö

ôNot in this case, youÆre a political appointee with a reputation to protect,ö Morgan shrugged, ôMe, IÆm just an Army Major working for the NSA. I can afford to punch out a member of a foreign delegation.ö

ôWell honey, if you keep this up, youÆll be æjust an Army Major working for the NSAÆ who will be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future,ö Alex told her husband.

ôOuch,ö Chuck replied much to the laughter of everyone, even Morgan who took it in good stride.

ôIÆm here all week folks, Morgan Grimes the human punching bag,ö he said grinning.

Chuck took a sip of his dessert wine while scanning the area around him, something that had been ingrained in this psyche for the last twenty years. He grimaced. The last person that he wanted to speak with at the moment was rapidly walking towards him and Chuck had no way out.

ôLong time no see Chuckie,ö Carina Hansen said, stunning as ever in a sultry black dress as the approached the two couples.

ôHello Carina,ö Chuck replied warily. Dealing with Carina was like juggling nitroglycerin. You knew something was going to blow up but you just didnÆt know when.

ôWhat do you want Hansen?ö Alex snapped, her arms wrapping around Morgan possessively.

ôWhat? I canÆt even say hi to an old friend Agent McHugh?ö Carina replied.

ôItÆs McHugh-Grimes now,ö Alex replied emphasizing the last word.

To say that Special Agent Alexandra McHugh-Grimes detested Carina Hansen would be an understatement. She hated the woman with all of her being. And for good reason too.

After having her romantic advances completely and utterly rebuffed by Chuck, Carina Hansen had set her eyes on a new target: Morgan Grimes, of the few men capable of satisfying her.

However when she arrived at Fort Bragg, hoping to surprise then-1st Lieutenant Grimes who was attending Airborne School at the time, Alex, then just an FBI Trainee on leave d kindly informed her that Morgan Grimes was off the market and that if she took any further action towards her property, there would be hell to pay.

Naturally this only encouraged Carina and the very next night, snuck into MorganÆs quarters when he was sleeping and tied him to the bed and was about to have her wicked way with him when Alex showed up, hoping to congratulate him from graduating from Jump School.

While only Morgan was witness to the ensuing catfight, the results of said catfight was stuff of legend.

When it was all over, Alex McHugh was standing over was standing over a now-unconscious Carina Hansen who had according to Morgan æhad gotten the crap kicked out of herÆ and had proceeded to her way with the Morgan.

ôCongratulations then,ö Carina replied. ôI take it you have the house, the dog and the standard two point five kids then?ö she smirked.

Fifteen years ago, in what had been a routine mission, Alex had been hit badly in the stomach. While she managed to survive, the doctors told her that she could never have children, a crushing moment for both Morgan and Alex as the two had always wanted kids.

Alex growled.

ôCongratulations on your appointment Chuckie. Who knew twenty three years ago, that you Charles Bartowski would become the next Director of the CIA?ö

ôWell Carina IÆm not the Director yet,ö Chuck replied calmly.

ôPure semantics,ö she replied flippantly. ôYou know I think this event has run its welcome, how about we take this to a more private setting and have our own personal celebration?ö she replied, as she touched his chest.

ôCarina while IÆm flattered, IÆm going to have to decline your offer,ö Chuck replied, flashing his wedding band. ôIÆd like you to meet my wife, Michelle Bartowski. This is Field Agent Carina Hansen of the DEA.ö

Carina took a look at Michelle, sizing her up. ôMy congratulations then Chuckie, I never thought you would get over Walker. How long ago did you tie the knot, two three years ago?ö

ôExcuse me?ö Michelle asked indignantly. ôWeÆve been married for almost eighteen years.ö

CarinaÆs eyes sparkled, never a good thing. ôReally thatÆs interesting. You never mentioned your wife once when I tried seducing you all of those times when we had missions together. All I remember is you saying that you hadnÆt gotten over Walker yet and werenÆt ready to start a relationship.ö

Michelle glared at her husband, ôIs that true?ö

ôMy personal and work lives are two separate things and itÆs best to keep it that way,ö Chuck stated firmly.

ôUntil now,ö Carina pointed out. ôMichelle, there are three unchangeable facts of life: death, taxes and ChuckÆs love for Sarah Walker. IsnÆt that right?ö Carina replied smiling.

Carina decided to push it further, ôYou know whatÆs interesting Michelle? You know for a twenty year old grave, Sarah WalkerÆs grave looks awfully well maintained and is always surrounded by fresh flowers. I wonder who could have been behind that?ö

ôBut wait thereÆs more. Did you know that thereÆs nothing that Chuckie wonÆt do for Sarah Walker? Did you know when Walker was supposedly captured by a rogue Agent, Chuck called in every military and intelligence asset on the West Coast to save her. You even sent in a B-2 Bomber didnÆt you?

ôOr the time when you flew from Burbank all the way to Paris on in order to save the woman that you loved? And how you engaged in a gunfight with a CIA Agent-gone traitor to get her back? Sarah told me about it before she died. You know, Michelle youÆre a lucky woman to have a husband with that kind of dedication towards the woman that he loves.ö

Michelle continued to glower at her husband, not trusting her self to speak as she remembered every Valentines Day, Birthday and Anniversary that Chuck had missed due to æworkÆ and how he had put his own career in front of his own family.

ôLooks like I touched a nerve didnÆt I?ö she asked. ôMy, my, my Chuckie after all this time, you still havenÆt gotten over her. ItÆs been what? Twenty years and you still canÆt move on?ö

ôCarina I think itÆs best if you were to leave right now,ö Chuck replied dangerously.

ôYouÆre no fun Chuckie. Such a spoilsport,ö Carina shrugged, ôI just want to let you know one thing, Chuck. You could have done much better in finding a wife. SheÆs nothing compared to Walker,ö before turning to leave.

ôGod I hate that woman,ö Michelle said after Carina was out of earshot.ö

ôDonÆt we all,ö Morgan agreed.

Later

Undisclosed Location, Washington D.C

ôWhat else havenÆt you told me?ö Michele demanded Chuck as the two began to change out of their formal dress.

ôMichelleàö

ôYou have a Knighthood, know the head of M1-6, and saved the Prince of Wales for crying out loud. And thatÆs just from one person. And donÆt get me started about that woman Carina! What else donÆt I know Chuck?

She started to cry. ôFor the last twenty years that IÆve known you, I always thought you to be a standup guy who happens to be somewhat of a dork and now I find out that youÆre a spy with connections all across the globe. I donÆt even know the man that I married. Who are you really Chuck?ö

ôCome here Michelle,ö Chuck said softly as he embraced his wife. ôI know this is hard on you and itÆs hard on me too. I never thought IÆd be in this position, being thrust from the shadows and completely into the spotlight. If I had it my way, IÆd run away from all of this and spend the rest of my life in obscurity with you and the kids.ö

ôWhy donÆt you? Why canÆt we just run away from all of this and go back to Burbank?ö

ôBecause my country needs me and regardless of what I want, IÆll always heed its call,ö Chuck replied truthfully. It was quite possibly the one truthful thing he had told his wife during the entirety of their marriage.

Michelle continued to sob.

The Next Day

The Oval Office
The White House

ôAh Director-Designate Bartowski, please come in,ö President Martin said seated in one of the Oval OfficeÆs couches as he beckoned Chuck, his team and their families who were all attired in formal wear yet again.

ôI trust that you enjoyed last nightÆs festivities?ö

ôYes we did. Thank you for the last minute invitation Mr. President,ö Chuck replied comfortable as ever in his dark suit and tie.

ôNot a problem,ö Martin replied. ôTake a seat and letÆs get down to business shall we?ö

ôIÆve spoken with Senator Dean,ö the President referred to the Senate Majority Leader, ôand we believe that it is best for everyone to begin confirmation hearings next week.ö

ôNext week?ö ChuckÆs eyebrows rose. This was faster than light speed in Washington standards.

ôWe need a permanent CIA Director and we need one now,ö Marin replied firmly. ôThe faster that human piece of shit Hayworth is out of there,ö Martin looked at Michelle and the twins, ôExcuse me, the better it is for everyone.ö

ôSir, to be honest. I havenÆt even prepared my testimony or have any sort of preparation whatsoever.ö The last thing one wanted to be when facing a Congressional hearing was to be unprepared. Politicians from both sides of the aisle were experts at flaying the skin off of those they had subpoenaed and enjoyed doing so.

ôI know, thatÆs why IÆve assigned one of my staff to prepare you for your questioning as fast as possible,ö Marin replied. ôIn fact sheÆs on her way right now.ö

The doors opened.

ôAh Stacey just right on time just like usual,ö the President addressed the new arrival. ôIÆd like you to meet Charles Bartowski, the next Director of the CIA.ö

She hadnÆt changed much Chuck thought. Other than a few streaks of iron gray mixed in with her blonde locks and the pair of glasses that framed her face, along with the dark conservative paint suit, she looked just like she did all those years ago.

Chuck stood up, drawing his service pistol from underneath his jacket and pointed it at the new arrival.

ôHello Sarah, long time no see,ö Chuck stated his voice full of ice as he moved to disengage the safety.