Saturday, December 29, 2007

Chuck vs. the Past Chapter 5: "Kaylee's Beverly Center Adventure"

2:47 A.M.

July 11th, 2018

Washington, D.C.

Bob Richter’s phone jarred him from his sleep. “Uhm-mggah,” he groaned, rolling over to grab his phone.

Number blocked, it said. “Thhell?” he slurred.

“’llo?” he said, pressing the talk button.

“Hello, Bob,” came a voice he hadn’t heard in years.

Richter sat bolt upright in bed. “You’re DEAD! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD!” he screamed into his phone. Pressing the end button, he heaved the phone across the room.

A moment later, it rang again. Reluctantly, Bob got out of his bed, crept across the room, and picked the phone up. “Hello?”

“That was rude, Bob. Screaming at me and then hanging up.”

“I read the report. NSA officially listed you as deader than a tree.”

“Well, I’m not,” the voice replied testily. “And guess what, Bob? It’s time to start the game again.”

“No WAY,” Richter replied. “I barely escaped when that jackass Bartowski ripped Fulcrum open and spread us out for the whole country to see.”

“Well, good news, Bob. That’s who we’re going for!”

“Look, I can’t.”

“Yes you can, Bob.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will kill you. I will rape your wife and your sixteen year old daughter and then kill them. I will burn your house to the ground with you in it. I will smear your name from one side of this continent to the other.”

“Like you even know where I live.”

“I’m standing outside your house, Bob.”


1:32 P.M.

Cedars-Sinai Hospital

Beverly Hills, California

Chuck wheeled Kaylee out the front door of Cedars-Sinai. The right side of her body was sore, and she would have to have bandaging on her upper right arm for at least a month, but she was intact and in good health.

“Where’s little Chuck at?” she had asked when Chuck entered her room.

“I asked him if he wanted to go, but he decided he wanted to go to Disneyland with his cousins, Michael and Jordan,” Chuck replied.

Disneyland?”

“It’s an amusement park,” Chuck said. “All kinds of crazy rides and… well, stuff. I’ll take you there at some point.”

As Chuck wheeled her outside into the sunlight, Kaylee slipped on a pair of sunglasses to protect her still-sensitive right eye. Peering across the parking lot, she pointed at the hundred foot monolith on the other side of San Vicente Blvd.

“What is that thing?” she asked.

“That’s the Beverly Center,” Chuck replied. “It’s a shopping mall. Two department stores and about 150 other smaller stores.”

“Oh my God,” Kaylee said with glee, turning to Chuck. “Can we go?”

“Uh, sure, we can go there… there’s a bunch of other malls we can go to, too.”

“No, I mean right now!” Kaylee responded.

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious,” Kaylee shot back. “I haven’t been shopping… God, in forever.”

“Well, let’s get to the car first, shall we?”

When they reached Chuck’s Aston Martin, Kaylee’s eyes went wide again. “Wow, that is a fancy set of wheels you got there, Mr. Bartowski!”

Then she examined it more closely. “And it’s red… with white and silver trim… Chuck, you painted that car in the same colors as your Herder.”

“That’s right, Kaylee,” Chuck said with a little bit of nerdish pride. “I own the Nerd Herd now.”

Then he had a thought. “Speaking of which, how is the Herder?”

“Still running,” Kaylee replied. “I keep fixing her up, and she’s got over 400,000 miles on her now. I don’t know if she survived the crash, though.”

Then she paused. “You’re just trying to distract me from wanting to go shopping, aren’t you?”

“Blast!” Chuck intoned, doing his best imitation of an evil villain. “You have foiled my evil plan.”

“I know you too well, Charles Bartowski!” Kaylee replied impishly.

“So, you want to try standing up?” Chuck asked.

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

The Cedars-Sinai attendant who had silently accompanied them held the handles of the wheelchair. Kaylee stood up slowly, and when she had reached a fully standing position, thrust her good arm up in victory.

Then her eyes went wide, and her face pale. She wobbled a bit, and threw her arms out in front of her to try to stabilize herself. Chuck quickly reached out and grabbed her. “Gotcha,” he said, catching her before she could fall.

He realized at that point just what a position he was in. He was holding Kaylee very close to himself, she had her arms around his neck, and their faces were just inches apart. It oddly felt just like the first time he’d caught her – and he’d even said “Gotcha,” then, too. He looked into her eyes, and she looked back into his, and then –

“Have a good day,” said the Cedars-Sinai attendant as he wheeled the chair away. That broke the mood, and Chuck helped Kaylee back to a standing position.

He helped her into the Aston Martin, and then got in on his side. It took only a few minutes to drive across the street to the Beverly Center to the valet.

Kaylee was still a little weak on her feet, so Chuck helped her up the pathway from the valet to the elevator into the mall. They were the only two in the elevator, and as the doors shut, a disembodied voice said, “Chuck Bartowski and Kaylee Frye, welcome to the Beverly Center, where it’s all about you.”

Kaylee’s eyes went wide. “How’d it do that?” she asked. “How’d it know who I am?”

“Personal identification microchips in your I.D. card,” Chuck said. “Everybody has them, and they can be read by any approved device.”

“But how did it know who I am?” Kaylee insisted. “I’m not from this time!”

“The CIA took care of it, believe me,” Chuck said. “Check your wallet.”

Kaylee opened her purse, pulled out her wallet – and there was a California driver’s license. She looked at it in disbelief. “That’s the best picture of me I’ve ever seen on an I.D. – and what’s my address? It says I live on Paseo del Mar, in Palos Verdes Peninsula, California. Where’s that?”

“Uh… that’s my address,” Chuck said.

“Oh.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, which was thankfully broken by the elevator doors opening on the seventh floor. Kaylee stepped out, and when she looked around at the mall, she looked like a kid on Christmas.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Oh my God, it’s a real Louis Vuitton store!”

Chuck shook his head. “Five hundred years of difference and she still spots Louis Vuitton first,” he muttered with a chuckle.

Kaylee didn’t hear him. She had turned and seen Victoria’s Secret. “That is some FANCY underwear,” she said, making a bee line for what wasn’t QUITE Chuck’s least favorite store in the world, but was close.

As she was about to enter the underwear store of doom, she stopped and turned to Chuck. “Wait… I don’t have any money,” she said.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck reached in his pocket. Opening his wallet, he removed his American Express Black card. Showing it to Kaylee, he said, “Courtesy of the United States government, I have no credit limit. And courtesy of the United States government… well, get whatever you want.”

When they finally pulled out of the Beverly Center onto La Cienega Blvd. four hours later, Chuck muttered, “Sarah’s gonna have my head.”

Several hundred dollars at Victoria’s Secret. Two thousand at Louis Vuitton. Another few hundred at Guess. Nearly five thousand at Bloomingdale’s. Nearly a thousand at Nine West. Another thousand at Gucci. Five hundred at Forever 21. Two hundred at Bath & Body Works. “For lotion?” Chuck had asked, incredulously.

All this sat in the back of the Aston Martin, and one very tired but very happy time-traveling space mechanic had fallen asleep in the shotgun seat of Chuck’s car. As he headed south on La Cienega, he stole a look at her.

She looked almost the same as he remembered her. A little older, perhaps, but he’d still peg her under thirty if he saw her out and about.

Chuck, though, looked almost ten years older than her. In reality, he was only three years older – a concept which he was still having a hard time dealing with, given that they’d been the same age when last he saw her – but the strains of being a program director for the CIA had made much of his hair go gray by his 35th birthday. Worry lines marred his forehead, and he had very noticeable crow’s feet by his eyes.

Anna Grimes had suggested on more than one occasion that he try Botox. “After all, this is Los Angeles,” she had said. However, Chuck just couldn’t get behind the idea of having botulin toxin injected into his face. It just rubbed him the wrong way.

Chuck was quiet for the whole drive home, waking Kaylee only when they reached the mansion. As she looked out from bleary eyes, she saw the house, and said, “Wow, is this where you live?”

“I actually live out back,” Chuck replied. “This is my sister’s house. Well, it’s mine, but she lives here.”

As Chuck helped her inside, Devin came into the front room. “Howdy, Chuckster,” he said. “And you must be Kaylee!”

“That’s me,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“Pleased to meet you,” Devin said. “I’m Devin, Chuck’s brother-in-law. Sometimes people call me Captain Awesome, though.”

“Speaking of which,” Chuck said, “could you do me an awesome favor? There’s a truckload of shopping bags in the back of the DB7. Could you and Ellie bring those in?”

“No problem,” Devin replied. “It was nice to meet you, Kaylee!”

“You too,” she said.

By the time Chuck had gotten her into bed and back downstairs, Ellie and Devin had brought all of Kaylee’s bags inside. “Jesus Christ,” Ellie said, “you let her loose at the Beverly Center?”

“With my American Express Black, no less,” Chuck replied ruefully. “Taxpayer dollars at work and all.”

Ellie shook her head. Then, remembering something, she held a finger up in the air.

“You know how you’ve been drinking a lot of orange juice and apple juice at night, to replace your soda?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Chuck replied.

“Stop. It causes too much production of stomach acid, and stomach pain can cause your blood pressure to rise. Grape juice or milk only after eight o’clock.”

“Are you kidding?” Chuck asked.

Ellie was not kidding.

So, at 10:30, Chuck sat at his desk, working on a report, drinking a glass of grape juice. He was surprised to hear a knock on his front door.

He answered it – and it was Kaylee. “What are you doing up?” he asked. “You really should be in bed.”

“You’re not my mother,” she replied, tiredly but firmly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Chuck said. “What’s up?”

Kaylee sat down on the couched, sighed, and seemed to deflate. “You know, it’s been seven years since I saw you in person, but since little Chuck was born, it’s like I see you every day. He’s just like you – he looks like you, he talks like you, his mind picks up on everything – just like you. And then, I get thrown back here, and you’re the first – well, the second person I see when I wake up.

“I was so happy to see you. As pathetic as it may seem, one of the first things that went through my head was, ‘I wonder if he still feels the same way about me that I do about him.’ But it seems like you’ve been… well, distant. That moment in the parking garage earlier – I almost expected you to kiss me. But then you pulled back.”

With a sigh, Chuck closed his laptop and turned to face her. “A lot has happened in my life in the last ten years,” he said. “I have far more responsibility now than I did then. I… well…”

He stopped. “Ummm… I had an affair with Sarah. It went on for about two years.”

Kaylee’s eyes opened a little wider, and for a moment, Chuck was afraid she was about to start crying. But, the moment passed, and he went on.

“We ended it because as good friends as we were, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to be any more than that. And the thing is… for the last ten years, even when Sarah and I were together, there’s always been a picture that I’ve had with me – a picture of you, in my wallet, and in my glovebox.

“Whenever something was going wrong at work, or when I was feeling sad, lonely, discouraged, I would take out that picture, think of you, and how happy, and energetic, and fun you always were. And it would always make me feel better.

“I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, Kaylee,” Chuck finished. “I just need some time to get used to it again, that’s all.”

“Okay,” said Kaylee, and then she was quiet for a minute. When she spoke again, she said, “Well, I should let you go back to working then.”

She stood up, and turned to head for the door, when Chuck called her back. “Come here… just for a minute,” he said.

She met him halfway between them, and he wrapped her in a hug. “I told you a long time ago not to ever let me hurt you again,” he said. “I don’t intend to start trying now.”

“I didn’t think you would,” she said. He could hear a smile in her voice. “Especially since I threatened to crush your balls with a pair of pliers. That threat still stands, mister.”

He pulled back, a smile on his face, and looked her in the eyes. “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t do that to me.”

“That’s what you think,” she replied, smiling impishly.

Chuck looked at her for a very long moment, and then…

“Oh, the hell with it,” he said, and kissed her.

Chuck vs. the Past Chapter 4: "140/90 and Rising"

Author’s note: Okay, so I realized something as I was reviewing chapter 3, and that is that I have Sarah Walker as the DD(I) of the CIA, still using her Sarah Walker cover. As has been established in canon, that is not her real name; however, for simplicity’s sake, I will continue to use that. I am going to explain it away this way:

Chuck was Sarah’s last field assignment before getting promoted into an office position. At that point, she had spent so much time in the Sarah Walker identity that she had become Sarah Walker, and her real identity was unfamiliar to her. As such, she chose to remain in the Sarah Walker identity.

Rock on.


7:30 P.M.

July 6th, 2018

Rancho Palos Verdes, California

As Chuck pulled up in front of his house, he realized that he hadn’t been home since the morning of the 4th. He suddenly found himself exhausted and feeling in desperate need of a shower.

However, he had the feeling it was going to be a while before he showered or slept.

“Is this where you live?” little Chuck gasped, his eyes growing wide. His reaction to the Aston Martin had been one of shock, but it was nothing compared to this.

“Well, actually, my sister and her family live here,” Chuck replied. “I own the house, but there’s a little house out back that I live in, because this is too big for just me.”

As Chuck walked up the path of the mansion with little Chuck in his wake, he asked himself yet again why he’d bought the place. It was far too big for him, too big even for Ellie and Awesome’s family.

He thought about the path that had led him there. In 2014, when General Beckman, then the director of the NSA, had suggested that perhaps Chuck would like to become the director of the Omaha Project, Chuck had had some thoughts. After confirming that if he were to take this position, the CIA and the NSA would have to publicly recognize Chuck as a CIA asset and acknowledge the existence of the Intersect, Chuck sat down one night with Casey and Sarah for a very long talk.

Two days later, Chuck filed suit in the Los Angeles district federal court against the United States government for mental and emotional trauma and use of his brain without his consent. Sarah, Casey, and Bryce all testified, and in the end, the case went to the Supreme Court, which judged that the United States government was, in fact, liable for Chuck’s “pain and suffering”, and awarded him a settlement of one hundred eighty-three million dollars.

Afterwards, journalists and members of the bar were surprised to see Chuck speaking pleasantly with General Beckman and CIA Director Graham. What the “experts” didn’t know – and what, in fact, only a handful of people, including Chuck, Sarah, Casey, and Bryce knew – was that the whole lawsuit had been a ploy to strip away layers of protective corruption built up over many years at the CIA, and finally exposing and destroying the roots of Fulcrum. In fact, the settlement had been paid out of Fulcrum’s “black” budget.

And so, Chuck was $183,000,000 richer, and Fulcrum was history. Chuck, flush with wealth, had driven down to RPV, and purchased the first house he saw with a for sale sign.

Now, Chuck shook his head at his lack of reason. He stood on the stoop, and pressed the doorbell, despite having a key in his pocket.

Devin answered the door. “Yo, Chuckster!” he said, hand in the air for a high five. Then he took in Chuck’s appearance. “Wow,” he said. “You definitely do not look awesome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Chuck replied wryly.

“Who’s the little dude?” Devin asked as he shut the door.

“About that…” Chuck hesitated. “I need to talk to you and Ellie about some stuff.”

“Not a problem!” Devin replied. “Sweetheart, can you come out here for a moment?” he called toward the kitchen.

As he called to Ellie, two small children came out of seemingly nowhere and started running around Devin’s legs. “Whoa, whoa, munchkins,” he said. “Jordan, why don’t you run upstairs and play. Mike, uh, go upstairs and keep your little sister company, okay?”

Chuck rolled his eyes, remembering seven years earlier, the joy when Michael had been born, and then the dismay two years later when Devin and Ellie had a daughter, Devin had insisted on naming her Jordan, and Ellie had been totally clueless.

“What is it, babe – hi, Chuck!” Ellie said, coming up to her brother and wrapping him in a hug. “What’s up?”

“My blood pressure,” muttered Chuck, plopping down on the loveseat. Little Chuck clambered up next to him.

“Really?” Ellie asked with concern. “If that’s true, you need to get that checked out, like tomorrow. Hypertension is no joking matter, Chuck.”

Then, noticing the little boy on the couch with Chuck, she said, “And who is that little boy?”

Chuck put his hand to his face, closed his eyes, and rubbed them for a moment. Opening them, he tiredly looked at Ellie and Devin.

“Guys,” he started, “I’d like you to meet Charles Irving Frye, age six.

“He’s my son.”


7:38 P.M.

Somewhere over the San Joaquin Valley, California

There was a small pop, and a flash of silvery light. A small aircraft, no bigger than a fighter, popped into being – and simply hovered.

The pilot took a moment to get his bearings. “Ah, that way,” he rasped, an almost metallic voice coming out of his mouth.

He could see the crash site from forty miles away. Kern County Sheriff’s Department and the CIA San Joaquin Valley team had it lit up bright as the sun. Coming in quietly and slowly, he did a quick flyby. That was enough for him to see that Serenity had not been destroyed.

“Shit,” he muttered. This made things infinitely more difficult.


7:39 P.M.

Rancho Palos Verdes, California

“Your son?!” Ellie and Devin said nearly in unison.

“It’s a long, long story,” Chuck replied wearily.

“We got all KINDS of time,” Ellie grumped, a look of determination settling itself on her face.

Oh, joy, Chuck thought. But there was no getting out of this one.

“Well… where to start,” he said, trying to stall.

“How ‘bout the beginning, Mr. Bartowski?” Ellie said impatiently.

Chuck looked at the ceiling and sighed. “Oookay. Do you remember Christmas 2007?”

“How could I forget Christmas 2007?” Ellie asked. “You were in a coma in Northridge.”

“Yeah, about that,” Chuck replied. “I wasn’t actually in a coma.”

Ellie gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” Her eyes grew dark like they always did when she was angry, and a vein began to stand out on her forehead. “Was this another one of those goddamn CIA things?!”

“Ellie, please calm down,” Chuck said, trying to speak in a soothing tone. “And please don’t swear in front of my son.”

“But Daddy, you said fu-“

“Not now, Chuck,” Chuck said, looking down at his son and making what he hoped would come across as an “I’ll explain later” face.

Ellie had pressed her hands together as if she was praying and held them against the center of her face. She breathed deeply as Devin rubbed her back and sent Chuck a “Glad I’m not in your shoes” look.

Finally, she looked up at him. “Fine. I won’t swear in front of him. But you better start explaining.”

“Okay,” Chuck said. “This is going to sound really wild and unbelievable, but I guarantee you every last bit is true. Anything you don’t believe, Sarah or Casey will verify.”

“Ah, those two bastions of trustworthiness,” Ellie snarked.

Chuck was nearing the last fray of his last nerve. “Look,” he snapped, “do you want to hear the fu- uh, friggin’ story or not?”

Ellie just looked at him. “Go ahead,” she said simply.

Reaching into his memory, Chuck began his narrative.

“Early on the morning of Christmas Eve 2007, I got a call for a Nerd Herd fix. It turned out the call was actually placed by a member of Fulcrum.

“Using a device they had stolen from Area 51, they managed to send me 500 years into the future – the year 2518, to be exact. My Herder crashed in the cargo bay of a spaceship called Serenity.

“Back here, it didn’t take Sarah and Casey very long to figure out what had happened. They used…um…”

Chuck took a moment to think of the proper term. “Um… extraordinary renditions to determine what had happened. As soon as they figured it out, the NSA put together a rescue mission using a ship and a device that will be classified for at least the next forty years still.

“So, Sarah and Casey came forward in time to where I was. However, they had to search for me, and it took them nearly two months to find me.

“During that time, I had begun a relationship with one of the crew of Serenity, named Kaylee Frye.”

“That’s my mommy!” little Chuck piped up.

“Yes, it is,” Chuck said. “Now, as silly as it may sound, we connected and fell in love. Obviously, we had sex,” he said, gesturing toward little Chuck with his left hand, “though I didn’t know she was pregnant when Sarah and Casey found me and we left.

“We arrived back on Earth on January 3rd, 2008. I was debriefed for a little over a week, and then, on January 14th, as you probably remember quite well, I was sent back home – just not from the hospital.

“Two days ago, there was an airplane crash north of the city.”

“Yeah,” Devin said. “I saw that on the news – they said it was a military plane, and that the site was sealed off so they could investigate it.”

“That’s what they said, all right,” Chuck replied. “But what it really was was the spaceship – Serenity. Somehow, it got thrown into our time, and it was already heavily damaged when it entered our atmosphere, which is why it crashed.

“I was the first person there. I found this little guy when I arrived. I didn’t realize then who he was. However, I did find the crew of the ship alive, although they were all pretty badly beat up. The captain, the first mate, the doctor, and their, well, security guy were all hurt, but not too severely. Their pilot was catatonic from crashing the ship, and Kaylee – well, she was the engineer, and she was really badly hurt.

“She’s at Cedars-Sinai right now. She woke up a few hours ago, and that was when I found out that little Chuck is my son.”

He paused. Ellie was staring at him with her jaw open, her eyes wide as saucers. Devin, on the other hand, sat back on the couch, and crossed his arms.

“Awesome.”

Ellie closed her eyes, put her face in her hands, and shook her head. “Okay, wait a minute, wait a minute,” she said. “As wild and far-fetched as the whole time travel bit sounds, I actually think you’re telling me the truth.”

She looked up and stared Chuck in the eye. “What I do not believe, though, is that Chuck Bartowski would finally truly fall in love and then leave the girl behind.”

“What would you have liked me to do?” Chuck asked angrily. “Stay? Let you and Devin and Morgan and everybody else think I was DEAD? I came back for all of you! It tore me apart to leave! I begged her to come with me, but she stayed for the same reason I left – FAMILY.”

Without even thinking about it, Chuck had risen to his feet. Now he started pacing the floor. His face and neck were bright red, and veins were standing out along the sides of his neck.

“Chuck, sit down,” Ellie said softly.

“I don’t want to sit down,” Chuck snapped.

“Dude, you should really sit down,” Devin said quietly.

Chuck turned to look at him, and saw that Devin was being completely serious. Taking a deep breath, he sat back down.

As soon as he sat down, Ellie came and sat down on the armrest beside him. “Roll the cuff of your shirt sleeve back,” she ordered. Chuck obeyed.

Placing her index and middle fingertips on the veins in Chuck’s wrist, she kept her fingers there for a moment. “I thought you were joking about high blood pressure,” she said, removing her fingers from his wrist.

“I was,” Chuck replied, confused. “What… what are you talking about?”

“Are you going back to Cedars-Sinai tomorrow to see this, uh…”

“Kaylee,” little Chuck chimed in.

“Kaylee?”

“Yeah,” Chuck said. “Of course.”

“Okay,” Ellie replied. “While you’re there, I want you to go to their cardiology department and see Dr. Donald Russell. Your blood pressure is way, way up, and you need to do something about it. Dr. Russell and I go a ways back, he'll be happy to help you out, and he's way better than any of those government doctors the CIA will send you to.”

“Alright,” Chuck relented. “Listen… can little Chuck stay with you guys for a few nights, until we get everything figured out?”

“Absolutely,” Ellie said quickly.

“Okay, then, I’m gonna grab a Coke and head to bed,” Chuck said tiredly.

“No you’re not,” Ellie replied firmly.

“I can’t go to sleep?” Chuck asked.

“No, you can’t have a Coke,” Ellie said. “Sixty milligrams of sodium in a can. Not with your blood pressure the way it is, no way. Have some juice, or some water or something. But no soda, and no coffee.”

“Next you’ll be telling me no beer,” Chuck grumbled as he headed for the door.

“AND DEFINITELY NO ALCOHOL!”