Chuck vs. the Beautiful Letdown, Chapter 8: "Only Hope"

Ellie Bartowski and Devin Woodcomb got married on Saturday, September 27th, at First Lutheran Church of Northridge. It was a beautiful ceremony. Just as Chuck had said, Ellie wasn’t showing yet, so nobody knew that underneath her Marc Jacobs designed wedding gown, there was a just barely visible bump on her abdomen.

There were far more people at the ceremony itself than Ellie had expected. Among them were a group of college-aged girls who Ellie had babysat for when she was in junior high. To her surprise and delight, they had, with Devin, worked out a song to sing at the wedding.

As Chuck stood behind Devin and to his right, he tried not to think too much about the song, but it penetrated through to the center of his conscience.

There’s a song that’s inside of my soul… it’s the one that I’ve tried to write over and over again.
I’m awake in the infinite cold, but you sing to me over and over again.

A few days the wedding, General Beckman decided that it was looking a little weird for Veronica to just be floating around Los Angeles without a job. And so, like Sarah Walker before her, she arranged for Veronica to work at the Wienerlicious at the Empire Plaza – someplace where she could easily keep an eye on Chuck.

Halfway through Veronica’s first shift at Wienerlicious, she came storming into the Buy More, grabbed Chuck by the arm, and dragged him into the home theatre room. “I swear to God, that guy has probably gotten more in the home theatre room than Hugh Hefner gets at the Playboy Mansion,” Jeff muttered as he watched the curtains slide shut.

Lester shook his head. “You’re disgusting sometimes, you know that?”

Inside the home theatre room, Veronica looked at Chuck with an evil glare. “No,” she said, indicating her outfit. “Not just ‘No’, but HELL NO.”

It was all Chuck could do to not start laughing. “I take it you’re not a big fan of the Wienerlicious?”

“I am NOT a big fan of the Wienerlicious,” Veronica growled.

“You gotta have a job,” Chuck replied. “I have no control over that.”

“Fine,” she replied. “Come with me, we’re going job hunting.”

And with that, Chuck had been unceremoniously dragged from the Buy More out into Empire Plaza. “Uh, what are you doing?” he asked once they were outside.

“I’m going to go along the way here, look at every single place that has a ‘Help Wanted’ sign, and see what it’s all about,” Veronica replied.

By the time they reached the other end of the plaza – nearly half a mile away - Veronica had collected applications from Target, Sports Authority, Barnes & Noble, and the Hampton Inn. Finally, they reached the last store – a little tiny place called “Spy World.”

“Manager wanted,” the sign in the window said.

Veronica’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I like the looks of this!” she said gleefully.

Chuck dragged himself inside behind her. “Hi, I understand you’re looking for a manager?” she perkily asked the man behind the counter.

“Yeah, I’m the owner,” he replied. “You got any background in this kind of thing?”

She nodded, her blonde pigtails bouncing in a very distracting fashion. “I’m a licensed private investigator. Oh, and I’m the person who solved the Lilly Kane murder case.”

The owner’s eyes went wide. “No shit?!” Veronica nodded, a big smile on her face. “When can you start?”

So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray to be only yours – I know now, you’re my only hope.

Shortly before Christmas, Chuck made two very important decisions.

The first regarded his car. For the longest time, he had been perfectly content to drive around the Herder, but his ego – and his bulging wallet – had finally gotten the better of him. And so, one day, he showed up at the Buy More driving a royal blue Corvette ZO-6.

The first two people who realized that it belonged to him were Casey and Morgan. They only realized this because as they sat at Victory and Burbank in the Crown Vic that Casey had bought off of Budget Car Rental six months prior, Chuck pulled up next to them.

He rolled down the window. “Wanna race, bitches?”

Casey glared daggers. “Way to keep a low profile there, bucko,” he shot back.

Chuck and Casey both revved their engines. In reality, there wasn’t much displacement or horsepower difference between the two – the Crown Vic just weighed about a thousand pounds more than the Corvette.

However, in this case, Casey’s automatic transmission turned out to have a rare advantage. When the light turned green, he hit the gas and the Crown Vic roared off, northbound on Victory. Chuck, on the other and, didn’t pop the clutch quite right, and the Corvette stalled. He was left in a cloud of Casey’s tire smoke.

Two minutes later, when he parked, Casey and Morgan were getting out of the Crown Vic. “Beautiful car, Bartowski,” Casey cracked. “Maybe now you learn how to drive it.”

The second decision was regarding his cover relationship with Veronica Mars. He finally admitted that them continuing to be just “friends” and yet spend so much time together was simply untenable. “Don’t get me wrong,” he told her, “I like being your friend… I just don’t think we can convincingly sell it any more without people getting suspicious.”

And so began their cover relationship. Everybody thought it was real – except for Casey, who knew better. All the people Chuck knew were quite happy that he was allowing himself to live again – nearly eleven months after Sarah’s death.

The difference, though, between Chuck’s cover relationship with Veronica and the one he had had with Sarah was that in the one with Sarah, Chuck had made his feelings for her quite clear, and she had bottled hers up, right up until the end. In the one with Veronica, it was exactly the opposite – Veronica made it quite clear that she was definitely interested in Chuck, and while he realized he was beginning to have genuine feelings for her, he just didn’t feel like he was ready to go there yet, and so bottled the feelings away.

Sing to me the song of the stars, of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again.
When it feels like my dreams are so far, sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.

There was nothing lonelier than celebrating Christmas alone. Oh, sure, there were plenty of places for her to go on Catalina Island on Christmas Day – a church in the morning, a restaurant for Christmas dinner – but at the close of the day, it was just Beth Reynolds, a bottle of pinot grigio, and the complete Friends DVD collection in a hotel suite.

A detached part of her mind was somewhat disturbed by the presence of the pinot grigio. She had started drinking again after seeing Chuck visit the gravesite back in September. Oh, sure, she kept it mostly under control, but she was terrified of losing control and reverting back to what she had become in college.

She couldn’t afford to become a practicing alcoholic again. That had led to misfortune, to despair, to waking up naked between a man and another woman with no memory of how she had gotten there.

But more frightening than that spectre was the thought that she might get drunk and call Chuck. A drunk dial to him would be an unmitigated disaster. It would mean she would truly become a fugivite, and that was not something she was ready to do.

And so, she watched her alcohol intake very carefully. The bottle of pinot grigio would be her limit for Christmas Day. In fact, it was all she had in the hotel suite.

As Beth sat on the bed, watching Friends, eating Wheat Thins and drinking wine, she noticed the surveillance indicator blink on the MacBook. Curious as to who would be visiting the grave at 9:30 in the evening on Christmas, she unsteadily rose from the bed and crossed to the desk.

She pulled up RealPlayer and turned on the streaming video feed. It turned out to be John Casey. He had a Christmas wreath in his hands, which he gently laid at the base of the headstone.

“Merry Christmas, Walker,” he said. “Um… this is a little weird, talking to you like you’re actually here, but I needed to come here.”

He sighed. “I’ve got your gun. You know, the Marine Recon Colt M1911? It’s a beautiful weapon. I’ve carried it every day since you left us – it seemed like a fitting tribute.”

Beth smiled. That definitely seemed like the type of thing Casey would do.

“It’s funny about Bartowski. He’s changed… and yet, he hasn’t. He’s still the same naïve, moron goofball that you and I met last fall… but, at the same time, he’s gotten more confident, more sure of himself – and more closed off.

“He’s just not as accessible as he was before you left. He doesn’t get as easily rattled, but he just seems to have lost a little bit of his humanity. And, don’t get me wrong, he’s still the good guy he’s always been. We practically had to twist his arm to get him to use a little of his money on himself and buy a Corvette.

“But here’s the funny thing. He and Mars finally struck up a cover relationship. She really likes him, a lot, and I can tell that he likes her right back, but he refuses to allow it to go anywhere. He’s bottling it up so that she doesn’t get hurt when it falls apart. Sound familiar?”

Beth’s eyes widened. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It sounded familiar, all right. Painfully familiar. And the green-eyed monster was certainly rearing its ugly head within her.

“Anyway, that’s all, I guess. I better go before the groundskeepers see me talking to a headstone and have me hauled off to the loony bin.

“Merry Christmas.”

And I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray, to be only yours,
I pray, to be only yours, I know now, you’re my only hope.

11:30 P.M., Pacific Standard Time

January 30th, 2009

San Pedro, California

Chuck had been aimlessly driving the Corvette for quite a while. He’d been to Sarah’s headstone earlier, left flowers there. Then he’d gone to the Buy More for no real reason, and then he’d gone to downtown Los Angeles and driven past the hotel Sarah used to live in.

He hadn’t answered the phone for the past three hours, except when John Casey had called. Casey had explained that Veronica and Ellie were both getting rather concerned about the fact that he hadn’t picked up the phone since just after 8:00. Chuck had replied that he was fine, he just needed to be alone and be left alone for a while.

Casey told him that he understood, and that he’d see if he could call off the attack dogs for the night.

But now, here Chuck was. It was nearly midnight, and he had somehow found himself in the South Bay. He drove down the coast for a little while, along Palos Verdes Drive, until it turned into Twenty-Fifth Street. From Twenty-Fifth, he went down Western Avenue, back to the coast, to Paseo Del Mar.

He continued aimlessly along Paseo Del Mar until it ended at Pacific Avenue. He turned left and headed back north. He drove past Fort MacArthur, up into the City of San Pedro –

And then he saw it, the lights on his right. The Vincent Thomas Bridge.

Curious, he took a right on O’Farrell Street, and hopped over to Harbor Boulevard. He took a left on Harbor, and then took the cloverleaf onto Highway 47. A moment later, he found himself on the practically deserted highway out to Terminal Island.

Chuck saw the sign for the Vincent Thomas Bridge pass overhead, and then he saw the little blue signs – the ones for the Southern California Suicide Hotline. He shook his head.

A moment later, though, he let his speed begin to drop. Nobody was behind him to object, and he coasted to a stop as the bridge reached the end of the Catalina Terminal – the same place where Sarah’s Porsche had come to a stop.

Turning on the hazard lights, Chuck climbed out of the Corvette. It was cold out – nearly midnight in January. The air was thick with the smell of salt and diesel exhaust.

He walked to the guardrail, and looked out onto the blackness of Long Beach Harbor. Gingerly, he lifted a foot over the guardrail, and holding onto the wires of the bridge, stepped out onto the strip of concrete on the other side of the guardrail.

Chuck felt a thrill of terror looking down at the blackness below. I wonder if this is how it felt for Sarah, doing this in broad daylight, he thought.

He had no idea how long he’d stood there for when he heard the voice behind him. “What are you doing, Chuck?”

Chuck turned around, and came face to face with Logan Echolls. The Balboa County supervisor’s Jeep Wrangler was parked behind Chuck’s Corvette. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t want to die… but I just don’t know what to live for anymore.”

Then he looked at Logan curiously. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. About forty minutes ago, I just got this feeling that I needed to drive up to the Vincent Thomas Bridge. Looks like that feeling was right.”

Chuck shrugged. “Listen,” Logan continued. “This is not something you want to do. I know. My mom jumped off the Coronado Bridge. I almost jumped off it. It’s just not worth it. Besides which, I know for a fact that there is a certain individual who will be devastated if you do.”

Chuck nodded. “I know,” he said quietly.

“Then you better get your ass back on this bridge, because if you break her heart, I will dig you up out of your grave and kick your ass to hell,” Logan Echolls informed him.

Chuck smiled. “Alright, I’m coming.”

I give you my apathy, I’m giving you all of me. I want your symphony,
Singing in all that I am – at the top of my lungs, I’m giving it back!

Veronica Mars was worried sick about Chuck Bartowski. He hadn’t answered his phone for nearly five hours, and despite the call from John Casey three hours earlier telling her not to worry – she was still worrying.

She had practically taken to pacing the room when her phone rang. She scooped it up anxiously – to see that Logan Echolls was calling.

“Logan?” she said curiously, answering the phone.

“Hey, Veronica,” he replied. “Listen. You can stop worrying about Chuck Bartowski. He’s fine.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How… the hell?”

Veronica could almost hear him smile. “I just know you too well.” And then he hung up.

A moment later, there was a knock on her door. Frowning, she opened it – and Chuck Bartowski stood in front of her.

“I think your apartment’s on the next floor up,” she said, smiling nonetheless.

“I know,” he said quietly. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve been brushing you off for the last three months. I can’t do that any longer. It’s what Sarah did to me, and I’m not going to let everything get bottled up like she did.

“I can’t do this on my own,” Chuck continued. “But I think… if you were by my side… I’d be okay.”

Veronica’s heart leapt. “Really?”

Chuck smiled and nodded. “Really.”

So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray to be only yours, I pray,
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours, I know now you’re my only hope.

Chuck vs. the Beautiful Letdown, Chapter 7: "Don't Be There"

2:30 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time

Thursday, September 25th, 2008

Forest Lawn Memorial Cemetery

Los Angeles, California

Raindrops spattered the windshield of the Aston Martin as it headed eastbound on the Ventura Freeway. The fact that they were in an Aston Martin DB-7 was itself absurd.

However, two weeks earlier, a little birdie named Bryce Larkin had put a bug into Veronica Mars’ ear that as she had been seconded to the NSA as Chuck’s handler, she no longer had to drive a crappy Chrysler LeBaron.

“But it’s my second one!” Veronica protested. “It’s just like my first car!”

Bryce then proceeded to explain that when he meant she could get a new car, he was talking a new car in the neighborhood of, oh, say, a Dodge Viper – if she really wanted to stick with the Chrysler products.

Veronica went to get herself a new spy car. And she took Chuck with her.

She originally wanted a Porsche 911 – black. Chuck had said he didn’t think that was the right car for her. She insisted, said it was a car she’d wanted ever since she was a kid in Neptune.

Eventually, Chuck had flown off the handle. He snapped, and yelled at her, telling her that the 911 was the car Sarah used to drive, and he wasn’t going to ride in one that wasn’t being driven by Sarah Walker.

Veronica ended up buying the Aston Martin because it looked cool, and because it was the car James Bond drove. Chuck tried to ignore that factor, simply because that’s kind of how he’d thought of Sarah – as the female James Bond.

His brain was wracked with a million thoughts as the car drew closer and closer to Forest Lawn Memorial Cemetery. The last time he’d set foot on the grounds was on February 28th – the day of Sarah’s memorial service.

Everybody else had been to the headstone since then – Casey, Bryce, Carina, Ellie, Devin, even Morgan. But for some reason, Chuck hadn’t been able to bring himself to go back.

Today, though – today was different. It was on this day in 2007 – one year before – that he had first met Sarah Walker.

He couldn’t allow himself to go past this date without visiting the grave. He had to go, had to visit the only woman who he’d ever allowed himself to love with no reservations.

Chuck shuddered as Veronica headed off the freeway. They were close – so close.

She reached the end of the ramp, and turned right onto Forest Lawn Drive. The road ran along the edge of the cemetery. Chuck looked past Veronica out the driver’s window as they drove past.

The contrast to the last time he had been here was marked. Back on February 28th, the day had had a light overcast – a marine layer that had finally been broken through. The trees, the plants, even the rye grass had all been a brilliant green.

Today, though, it was raining. Gray, dreary clouds filled the skies. And ironically, the vegetation had suffered through the summer from hell – drought, combined with fires in Griffith Park, had exposed it all to sun, smoke, fire retardant, heat. The cemetery truly looked like a place of death.

Veronica took a left turn onto Memorial Drive and kept going a little further. “It’s right up here,” Chuck said quietly.

A moment later, she drew the car to a stop. Chuck unbuckled his seatbelt and prepared to get out. “Do you want me to come with you?” Veronica asked gently.

Chuck shook his head and opened the door. Several drops of rain spattered on the arm of his jacket as he began to get out. “Do you at least want to take the umbrella?” she asked.

Chuck shook his head again. He closed the door and started walking across the drenched, scorched grass toward the grave of Sarah Walker.

When he reached the gravesite, he was astonished. The headstone was surrounded in flowers. Each bouquet had a card attached. One was from Morgan. Another from Ellie and Devin. There was one from Bryce, one from Casey. Casey’s was made up of red, white, and blue flowers and had a tiny plastic handgun holding it together.

Chuck laughed at the absurdity of Casey’s bouquet, but it sounded hollow. He stood there for a moment, just looking down at the headstone.

It looked exactly the same as it had seven months beforehand. It still said, “Sarah Walker, June 14, 1982 – January 30, 2008, Leader, Lifesaver, Loving Friend”. Nobody had touched it, nobody had vandalized it – although Chuck was pretty sure that if somebody had, John Casey would’ve slowly and painfully dismembered that individual.

“Hi,” he finally said. “I… I’m sorry I haven’t visited. It’s been, well, busy.”

Chuck sighed. This was ridiculous. He was talking to a gravestone, and yet he found himself nervous, as if he was really seeing Sarah for the first time in seven months.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he continued. “I don’t know if there’s a heaven, but you’ve got me really hoping that there is. You know, it’s ironic that of all things, your death would get me back to church – hoping that I can find my way back to you someday.”

He wiped the rain from his forehead. “I sold my first video game a little while back,” he said. “Not a very original premise – it’s about this computer geek who gets a massive government database accidentally stuck in his head.”

In his mind’s eye, Chuck could see how Sarah would react – she’d shake her head and give him a sort of half-laugh, but she’d have this twinkle in her eyes that it always filled him with utter joy to see. “I’m sure you’d think it’s ridiculous,” he went on, “but I had to design the female character so that she didn’t look like you. I – I just didn’t want to share you with anybody else. I know, it’s selfish, but I had so little time with you – I just, I can’t give any of that away.”

He leaned his head back – that was a mistake. Chuck rapidly brought his head back down, wiping the rain out of his eyes – or was it tears? A combination of the two?

He wasn’t sure. “They finally gave me a new handler,” he said. “I moved out of the apartment complex, and it just would’ve looked weird if Casey had followed me to my new place, so they sent this FBI agent. She actually reminds me a lot of you – just, like, eight inches shorter.”

Chuck smiled. “The most ridiculous part of it is when I hug her – and yes, I hug her, she’s my friend. You know, when I used to hug you, your head fit perfectly right under my chin. I loved that. Veronica, on the other hand – she barely comes up to the middle of my chest.

“That’s her name, Veronica Mars,” Chuck continued. “She’s a really nice girl, and a fantastic friend… but she just doesn’t… I don’t know. I’m always happy to see her, but whenever I used to see you, it made the world seem like it was perfect.

“By the way,” he said, “your Porsche – I’ve still got it. Devin has this storage unit out in Arcadia, where he keeps this beautiful Shelby Mustang, and it was big enough for two cars. It’s there. It’s been there since… well, since that day. I’ve never driven it, though. I don’t know if I ever will – I just wouldn’t feel right, being in that car without you in it.”

He smiled. “It’s really too bad you’re not going to be around this weekend – Ellie and Devin are tying the knot on Saturday. You should see Ellie’s dress – it’s unbelievable.”

Chuck’s smile got a little bigger. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,” he said with a laugh. “Captain Awesome let himself be a little more awesome than he should’ve been. See, I’m gonna be an uncle somewhere around Easter or so, and that’s only about, well, six and a half months after the wedding.”

He shook his head. “Ellie isn’t showing yet, and she doesn’t know that I know, but I saw the test, and then Devin got drunk and spilled the whole thing to me and Casey.”

He blew out his breath slowly. “You know, it was a year ago today that we met for the first time. You came into the Buy More with your broken phone – you never told me just what happened to it, by the way, although I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d screwed it up on some big spy mission.”

Chuck brought his hands to his face, slowly steepling them over his mouth. “That red leather jacket, those Abercrombie jeans – yes, I knew they were Abercrombie jeans – I loved it when you wore that combination. I mean, I always thought you were beautiful, but that combination – there was just something so incredibly sexy about it.”

He smiled again. “Although, there is something to be said for that outfit you wore on our first ‘date’ – you know, the one that you were able to hide a small arsenal inside of?”

Chuck sighed. “Hell of a first date that was, huh? I mean, you take down an NSA strike team, then we end up getting chased through downtown Los Angeles by Casey? I mean, for God’s sake, the night ended with me downloading a porn virus to a laptop to disable a bomb. Who does that?!”

He crouched down, resting his hand on the top of the headstone. “Sometimes, I get this feeling like you’re still alive,” he said. “I don’t know why, because I know better. You’re gone.”

Chuck shook his head, trying to ignore the tears that were building in his eyes. “But sometimes, sometimes I just feel like you’re standing behind me. I feel like you’re looking at me from across the room. I feel like I’m going to walk into the Wienerlicious, and you’re going to be there, wearing that ridiculous outfit.”

The tears started to flow freely down his cheeks. “I just wish I knew why you’d done it,” he said. “You didn’t have to do it. Whatever was wrong, all you had to do was tell me. I know, I know, you were the big, bad CIA agent, but all you had to do was tell me what was wrong. I would’ve fixed it. I would’ve done anything for you.”

That was what broke the dam, as a sob escaped from his chest. He lost it then, falling to his knees. As the sobs came, he buried his head underneath his arms, hoping that it would all be a lie, a dream that he could wake up from.

He was barely aware of Veronica running across the cemetery, calling his name. When she crouched down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, he latched onto her as though he were a drowning man and she were a life preserver.

Chuck buried his head in her chest and sobbed for nearly ten minutes. When he finally stopped, he was drained of energy. His head drooped, his eyes aimed at the ground.

“Come on,” Veronica said quietly. “Let’s get out of the rain, okay?”

He didn’t say anything, just quietly acquiesced. He slowly stood to his feet as she slipped her hand into his and led him away from the gravesite.

---

2:45 P.M.

The Avalon Hotel

Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, California

The same rainstorm that was drenching Los Angeles was also causing it to be a gloomy day on Catalina Island. Everybody was inside, cursing the rainstorm.

Everybody except for one person.

Beth Reynolds sat at her computer. She was unable to move, transfixed by what she had just seen.

Against Director Graham’s advice, she had convinced a CIA tech to set her up with a little program that would pop up a notice on her MacBook whenever the motion detector on the surveillance camera at Forest Lawn Cemetery was activated. If somebody visited the gravesite of Sarah Walker, Beth would know about it.

It rarely activated, and when it did, it was almost always the groundskeeper. Occasionally, she saw Morgan, or Casey, or Ellie come by to leave a bouquet.

But this time, it had been Chuck. Beth had sat there, unable to tear her eyes away, as he stood there and talked to Sarah’s headstone.

She had heard every word that Chuck said. She watched, helpless, as he broke down, his body wracked with grief. She watched with sadness, and yes, a little bit of jealousy as Veronica Mars held Chuck, comforted him, and led him away.

Five minutes after Chuck had left the gravesite, Beth still sat there, eyes fixed on the computer. Finally, she broke from her reverie.

She gently closed the computer, stood, and wandered into the bedroom. She lay down on the king size bed, listening to the storm lash the hotel.

As the rain fell on Southern California, Beth Reynolds softly cried herself to sleep.

Chuck vs. the Beautiful Letdown, Chapter 6: "Love Is the Movement"

7:30 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time

Friday, September 5th, 2008

The Avalon Hotel

Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, California

Beth Reynolds was up early. Since she had gone back to the work for the CIA a month and a half before, her routine had changed drastically.

To begin with, the CIA had moved her to a suite where she could really live and work. Director Graham had decided she would be strictly an analyst for the time being, and that she would stay put on Catalina Island. It was too much of a risk for her to be seen around Langley, even if her appearance had changed.

She maintained her part-time job at Catalina Computers as part of her cover. “At least it’s better than working at Wienerlicious,” she had said. Being in a suite, she had also gotten herself a treadmill, so she could run in peace and quiet without being stopped on the street with computer questions by people who had gotten to know her as the island’s resident tech geek.

Beth had the Channel 4 news on, but the volume was low. However, when she saw Chuck’s face pop up on the television screen, she hit the emergency stop button on the treadmill and quickly turned up the volume.

“…industry newcomer Charles Bartowski wrote the game, called Mindnode,” morning anchor Jennifer Bjorklund was saying. “The game itself has a fascinating premise – an average individual inadvertently downloads a massive government database into his brain, and two government agents are sent in to both protect him and utilize the information in his mind.”

“Real original premise, Chuck,” Beth said to herself – and she actually laughed.

That she laughed actually shocked her. She hadn’t laughed at anything that involved Chuck since before that day on the Vincent Thomas Bridge.

“The game was developed by video game giant Electronic Arts,” Bjorklund continued. “The action scenes, all set in Los Angeles, have a degree of realism that surpasses even the latest installment in Rockstar’s Grand Theft Auto series. The characters were designed by Bartowski himself, and are voiced by actors Lee Pace, Jewel Staite, and Gareth Lloyd-Davies.”

A screenshot appeared on the television – and Beth’s jaw dropped. She grabbed the TiVo remote and hit pause, freezing the image on the screen.

“How the hell...” she whispered, approaching the big screen plasma television. She looked closely at the three characters. There was the guy in the Nerd Herd uniform, who had clearly been designed based on Chuck’s appearance, the guy in the black suit, clearly designed based on Casey’s appearance…

And then there was the female character. Obviously, Chuck would’ve based the female character on Sarah Walker, but Beth would’ve thought that the character would have long blonde hair and blue eyes.

But no. The character had short red hair, and green eyes. In fact, she was the spitting image of Beth Reynolds. “There’s no possible way he could’ve known,” Beth breathed. “I KNOW he thinks I’m dead!”

Grabbing her cell phone, she dialed a number. “This is Graham, secure,” she heard a moment later.

“Reynolds, secure,” she replied. “Have you seen the images from Mindnode?”

She heard Director Graham chuckle. “I figured you might be curious about that,” he replied. “He has no idea that you look like that now. I spoke with Major Casey, passing my question off as curiosity as to why the character didn’t look like Sarah Walker. He said that Bartowski’s justification was in two parts.

“Part one is that the memory was simply too painful for him to design a character based on you. Part two was that Bartowski didn’t particularly want to share the memory of you with anybody else – he wanted to keep you to himself.”

Beth’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh,” she breathed.

Graham sighed. “You should’ve just said how you felt about him,” he said quietly. “I could’ve helped you work something out with him. You wouldn’t have had to go through all this.”

Beth laughed bitterly. “You and I both know that never would’ve worked,” she replied. “General Beckman would’ve shot anything down. For all I know, she would’ve put out a sanction on both Chuck and me.”

Graham was quiet for a moment. “You’re probably right,” he finally said. “Was there anything else?”

“No, sir,” she replied.

“Alright. Keep me updated on that work on the Fulcrum files.” And he disconnected.

Beth sighed. She had been doing that a lot lately. Picking up the TiVo remote, she hit play, and the newscast resumed.

“The characters names are Rick McCune, Tara Pierce, and Robert Johnson,” Bjorklund explained. “Respectively, they are an employee of Best Buy’s Geek Squad, a CIA Agent, and a British M:I-6 agent.

“The premiere party is being held tonight at the opulent Neptune home of Balboa County Supervisor Logan Echolls. It’s expected to be a star-studded event. Bartowski himself will be in attendance, along with co-developer Morgan Grimes.”

---

6:00 P.M.

Neptune, California

Ellie Bartowski’s Pontiac G6 pulled up in the driveway of Logan Echolls’ enormous home. Ellie wasn’t herself in the car – she had said that there was no way they were going to the party in Veronica’s LeBaron, and had given an emphatic “HELL NO” to going in Chuck’s Herder.

“Holy crap,” Morgan uttered as they pulled up in front of the house. “This is insane.”

Chuck shrugged. “I’ve been down in the area before for Nerd Herd calls,” he explained. “Just never been here.”

Veronica turned to Chuck. “Chuck… do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“With Morgan in the car?” Chuck replied cheekily. “I don’t know if he can handle it.”

Morgan rolled his eyes. “Ask him the question, Veronica.”

“Why do you still work at the Buy More? You’re worth enough that you don’t have to now. You’re going to get royalties and percentages like you wouldn’t believe off the game, and anything that gets developed off of it.”

Chuck thought about it for a moment. “I… I really don’t know,” he finally replied. “I guess, it’s familiar, it’s comforting… and well, I just feel like if I leave the Buy More, it’ll be like I’m partly leaving her behind.”

Veronica and Morgan exchanged a glance. They both know exactly who Chuck was talking about when he said “her”. “Morgan, do you mind if Chuck and I talk for a moment?” Veronica asked.

“Not at all,” Morgan replied, quickly bailing.

“Let me rephrase the question, Chuck,” Veronica said after the door had shut. “You’re twenty-two credits short of your bachelor’s degree in computer engineering. You have been for five years. Why are you still at the Buy More?”

Chuck shook his head. “I guess I just didn’t feel like finishing my degree after getting expelled from Stanford,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to risk re-opening any old wounds.”

Veronica sighed. “That’s fine, Chuck, but you know what? You’re an adult. That’s the kind of thing where you take a semester off, maybe a year, and then you enroll at CSUN, or UCLA, and you finish your degree. You can’t spend the rest of your life living in adolescent-land.”

He shrugged. “Why not, though? It’s like you said – I’m a successful video game writer now. I’m going to make plenty of money. And it’s not like you have any room to talk – you dropped out of Hearst after, what, three semesters? I mean, yeah, so you’re an FBI agent now. And?”

She narrowed her eyes. That remark stung. “I’m just going to ignore that last bit for now,” she said through clenched teeth. “The reason you can’t spend the rest of your life as a teenager is because if you do, you’ll end up like the people who live here in Neptune, and I can’t stand the thought of seeing you like that.”

Chuck looked her in the eyes. “I don’t understand what the problem with ending up like the people here is,” he replied. “And how can you really talk about them like that? After all, aren’t you friends with Logan Echolls?”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “He’s… different. He’s a good person, if somewhat… unbalanced. The rest of the people here are assholes and losers.”

“Seems to me like the assholes and losers have something going for them,” Chuck replied. With that, he opened the driver’s door of the car and got out.

“Goddammit,” Veronica hissed to herself, getting out of the car. She had to run to catch up to Chuck, who was already a fair distance away from her.

She caught up to him just as they reached the front door. The doorman opened it for them, and as they stepped inside, an announcer standing at a lectern called off their names.

“Veronica Janel Mars, of Neptune, accompanied by Charles Irving Bartowski, of Santa Monica!”

“The man of the hour!” called a voice from across the room, and that was followed by a spontaneous burst of applause. Chuck turned red, but smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

The source of the voice quickly made its way to Chuck. “So you’re Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herder and video game creator extraordinaire.”

“And you’re Logan Echolls, youngest county supervisor in the history of Balboa County,” Chuck replied. “Exactly how the hell did that happen?”

“Well,” Logan replied, “your girlfriend here kind of went on a reign of terror that ended up with a large number of Neptune’s finest either dead or on the lam.”

Chuck held up a hand. “Wait, Veronica’s not my girlfriend.”

Logan cocked an eyebrow. “Why the hell not?”

Veronica looked from Chuck to Logan and back again. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to go detestosterone myself,” she said, rolling her eyes.

As she walked away, Logan looked after her. “Seriously. You showed up with her, but she’s not your girlfriend?”

“Nope,” Chuck replied, shaking his head. “She’s just a friend. On another topic, I have to ask what it’s like to basically be the mayor of the 90909 at your age.”

Logan nodded. “It’s intimidating,” he said. “All the people here – they’ve known me since I was born. I grew up here. They think they’ve got all this dirt they can hold over me, when really, it turns out that I was one of the most spic-and-span people in the neighborhood. But seriously, dude. I’ve seen you and Veronica interacting with each other for all of fifteen seconds, and I can tell that she likes you. And your excuse is…”

Chuck sighed. “I just don’t know if I can deal with dating right now,” he replied quietly.

“Bad breakup?”

“Not really,” Chuck said, hoping Logan would take the hint and end that particular line of questioning.

“How long’s it been?”

“Seven months.”

Logan raised his other eyebrow. “Seven months? Come on, man, maybe it’s time to move on.”

Chuck put a hand to his forehead. “No, you don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand?” Logan asked. “You’ve been out of the relationship for seven months. You clearly need to get some, and from what I can see, it’s willing and waiting.”

Chuck studied Logan Echolls for a long moment, and finally said, “Do you remember the Vincent Thomas Bridge jumper, back at the end of January?”

“Of course,” Logan replied. “Hard to forget. We all thought it was a real waste down here – I mean, come on, a hot blonde with a Porsche 911?”

Chuck winced. “Yeah, Sarah Walker,” he said softly. “She was my girlfriend.”

Logan’s eyes went wide. “Oh, man,” he groaned. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Goddammit. I’m an ass. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chuck replied, shaking his head. “It’s just… I mean, much as I hate to admit it, I think I’m still in love with her, and Veronica just reminds me SO MUCH of her sometimes…”

Logan nodded, a grim smile crossing his face. “Totally understand you there, man,” he replied. “You remember the Lilly Kane murder, five years back?”

“Of course,” Chuck replied. “Veronica’s dad was the investigating officer, thought the girl’s dad did it, except it turned out –“

He stopped himself. “Shit,” he muttered. “I do believe that I’m now the one suffering from foot-in-mouth.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he replied. “Everybody knows, it was my father, the almighty actor Aaron Echolls who killed her. What not as many people know is that I was Lilly’s boyfriend. I was in love with her for a long time after it happened.”

“Gotcha,” Chuck mused. “So what changed that?”

“Veronica did,” Logan admitted. “I fell in love with her. Problem is, I haven’t been able to fall back out.”

“Oh,” Chuck replied. “Um, that’s somewhat awkward.”

“Nah,” Logan said. “It’s not gonna go anywhere. We determined that a long time ago. Seriously, though, if she likes you, you really ought to go for it. She’s an incredible woman.”

Chuck nodded. “I know. And believe me, the thought has crossed my mind.”

But the fact of the matter was, with the one year anniversary of the day Chuck had met Sarah coming up, she was on his mind more than ever.

This was not a good time to be thinking about a new relationship.

Chuck vs. the Beautiful Letdown, Chapter 5: "Burn Out Bright"

7:15 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time

Thursday, July 24th, 2008

Dana Point, California

If there was one thing left – only one thing at all – that Eli Navarro could do in the world, he would want it to be riding.

Specifically, his 1968 Harley-Davidson FLH Electra Glide.

It had taken him five years to save up enough money just to buy a stripped down, beat up Electra Glide – and that had been occasionally interrupted by things like his dumbass cousin taking out fake credit cards in Lynn Echolls’ name, being betrayed by one of his own gang members – that kind of bullshit.

But right at the moment, as he rode north on the Pacific Coast Highway toward Los Angeles, all was right with the world. Sure, he was kind of a lone wolf these days. Yeah, he kind of had a reputation for being Logan Echolls’ bitch. Not that he cared. Logan paid him damn good money to be his bodyguard and enforcer.

Not that a “perfect” day could ever last. Hell, he’d only been on the road for twenty minutes when the Bluetooth earpiece built into his helmet began to warble.

He sighed. Why was he not surprised? A perfect day for a ride, and somebody had to interrupt it.

Truth be told, there was only one person he could think of that would call him at this time of the morning. “Answer,” he told the Bluetooth. A tone in his earpiece indicated that the call had been connected.

“That you, white girl?” he asked with a smile.

“Why, Weevil, you know me too well,” came the mocking answer.

“Special Agent Veronica Mars. What the hell is the FBI doing calling me up at seven AM on a Thursday?”

“I need your help, Weevil,” he heard.

Eli rolled his eyes. Of course she needed his help. She always needed his help. There wasn’t a day had gone by since he met the girl that he hadn’t half expected his phone to ring or for her to show up on his doorstep, asking for his help.

“We talkin’ a professional or a personal matter here?”

“Kind of both,” she replied. “I need you to be an intimidating, crass man toward me in order for a mark to come to my rescue.”

“A mark?” Weevil asked. “You want a bad guy to come riding in to rescue you from the big, bad Weevil?”

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s an asset who I’m trying to recruit,” Veronica shot back with an exasperated tone. “Now, are you gonna help me or not?”

Weevil chuckled. “It’ll cost you.”

“Well, since I need you to do this at Comic-Con… will a free three day pass do it for you?”

THAT got his attention. “Damn, girl, you must really love me.”

“San Diego Marriott, 12:00 noon,” she said. “Don’t be late.”

---

10:30 A.M.

San Diego Marriott

Chuck Bartowski didn’t get up as early as he might have at Comic-Cons past. That was okay, though. He didn’t expect to see anybody important that morning.

That evening, though… well, Joss Whedon and Christopher Nolan were both on his “must see” list. He was quite excited about the last-minute additions of the Firefly creator and the Batman resurrector.

He took his time getting dressed. He wanted the outfit to look just right. He’d ended up going to a fairly large number of thrift stores throughout Los Angeles to complete the outfit – and had, in reality, ended up finding the last piece at Buffalo Exchange in Pacific Beach just the night before.

A brown utility shirt, tan pants with suspenders, and black boots had been easy enough to come by. Casey had provided him with the holster and revolver – “No ammo,” Casey had growled. “You might put somebody’s eye out.”

The brown overcoat, though, had been practically impossible to find. And so, Chuck had been overjoyed to find the overcoat at Buffalo Exchange. So overjoyed, in fact, that he’d happily dropped two hundred dollars on it.

The fact of the matter was, if he was going to dress like Captain Mal Reynolds, the image had to be perfect. He had even gone so far as to get industrial strength hair gel to tame the curls and make his hair look more like Nathan Fillion’s.

Smiling at himself in the mirror, he decided he fully approved. He grabbed his cell phone and wallet off the desk – and the picture of Sarah that he always kept in the wallet slipped out, falling to the desk.

Chuck saw the picture, and froze. It had been almost six months, but he still felt like he’d been kicked in the chest whenever he saw her face. Slowly, he reached down and picked up the picture.

He smiled sadly as he looked into the photographic reproduction of Sarah’s sparkling blue eyes. “You know, I really wanted to bring you here,” he said softly after a moment of quiet. “I think you really would’ve gotten a kick out of Comic-Con. I’m pretty sure I could’ve talked you into dressing up like Princess Leia… or Inara Serra…”

Chuck laughed. “I never did get around to educating you in the ways of Joss Whedon, did I? It would’ve been great.”

He took one last look at the picture, and opened his wallet to replace it. Then, he reconsidered, and slid the picture into the left breast pocket on his shirt – right next to his heart.

He gently put his hand over the picture. Then, lifting his head, he grabbed the overcoat, shrugged into it, and headed out. It was time for the world to see Mal Reynolds.

Chuck had no idea who Devin and Morgan had decided to dress up as. He was quite certain, though, that John Casey would be dressed as himself. The NSA agent just didn’t seem to be the type to get too heavily into this sort of thing.

And so, Chuck was VERY surprised to exit the elevator into the lobby and see there waiting for him Commissioner Jim Gordon of the Gotham Police, Clark Kent, and… Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood Three.

Chuck just sort of stared at Casey for a moment, his mouth agape. Casey would’ve been the last person he would have EVER expected to see donning the outfit of the bisexual time traveling space whore from the BBC’s Doctor Who and Torchwood series.

Casey turned to see Chuck standing across the lobby, staring at him. “Don’t you EVEN start, Bartowski,” he growled. “I happen to like Torchwood.”

Chuck raised his hands in mock surrender as he crossed the lobby. “I wasn’t gonna say a WORD,” he insisted.

He looked over at Devin. “You certainly make a convincing Clark Kent,” he told his brother-in-law-to-be.

“Oh, you haven’t seen the half of it,” Devin said with a smile, pulling his tie aside and unbuttoning three buttons to reveal a Superman t-shirt.

“Awesome,” Chuck laughed.

“Yes, it most certainly is.”

Chuck turned his attention to Morgan. “As for you… you know, you’ve got the right looks for Gary Oldman’s Jim Gordon, but… you’re just kind of short.”

“Dude!” Morgan replied. “So not cool!”

Chuck shrugged. “Just calling ‘em like I see ‘em.”

And with that, the four men headed out of the Marriott, to go next door to the convention center. It was the ninth year in a row that Chuck had been to Comic-Con, the sixth in a row with Devin and Morgan. He had gone from 2000 to 2002 with Bryce and Jill, and then after being stabbed in the back by the two of them, Devin and Morgan had gone with him in 2003. The three had gone every year since, and this year, John Casey had joined them.

“It’s for your own protection, Bartowski,” he had growled when Chuck had started whining about how Casey would be a killjoy.

The early parts of the first day of Comic-Con didn’t have that much going on, but Chuck had insisted on being there. “You never know who’ll show up,” he had said.

And it turned out his instincts were right on. They were walking through one of the exhibition halls when Morgan grabbed Chuck’s arm. “Hey!” he said. “Isn’t that Jewel Staite?”

Chuck froze. He turned to his right – and by God, it was Jewel Staite. Jennifer Keller on Stargate: Atlantis, but far more importantly to Chuck, Kaylee Frye on Firefly and in Serenity.

Chuck had had a MAJOR thing for Kaylee when he was in college. Firefly had aired during the first semester of that final, torturous year at Stanford. She was cute, she was funny, she was a total geek, and best of all, she seemed to really enjoy having sex. He knew she was a fictional character, but that didn’t really change anything.

Three years later, when Serenity had come out, Chuck had driven to Phoenix and slept overnight on a sidewalk outside a movie theatre to get a ticket to an advance screening. He got one of the last tickets, but he damn well thought it was worth it. His only quibble with the film was the fact that Kaylee had hooked up with Simon Tam at the end. He had stood up and loudly booed when that happened – and he was surprised to find that he was not the only one who did that!

And now, she was standing not thirty feet away from him. There was no huge crowd, no line of slobbering fans – just a few people, standing and having what appeared to be a fairly in-depth discussion with her, about who knew what.

“Dude!” Morgan said. “Are you gonna go talk to her?”

“In a minute,” Chuck replied. “I’ll wait till those people leave.”

A moment later, they did. Chuck, getting more nervous with every footstep, walked over to her.

“Hi!” she said brightly, smiling at him as he approached. “You appear to be a Browncoat, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re supposed to be Mal Reynolds!”

“Yeah, hi, my name’s Fan Bartowski, I’m a big Chu –“

He froze. Then he laughed and smacked himself in the forehead. “I’m an idiot,” he said.

“That’s okay,” she replied, laughing and holding out her hand. “Jewel Staite.”

“Chuck Bartowski,” he replied, taking her hand and shaking it. “Big fan, as I tried to say the first time around.”

Staite cocked her head to the side. “Chuck Bartowski,” she mused. “I know that name. Why do I know that name?”

Morgan had come up next to Chuck. “Why DO you know that name?” he asked, just as confused as Chuck.

Then her eyes widened. “Oh! You wrote that video game, Mindnode, the one Electronic Arts is making!”

Chuck’s jaw dropped. “How the hell…”

She smiled. “They actually contacted me about voicing one of the characters – the female spy. Apparently they think I look just like the way you designed her.”

She was right. It had caused a bit of consternation, too. When Chuck had shown Casey his graphic mockups of screenshots, Casey had studied them pretty closely. “Well,” he had said slowly, “the guy in the nerd outfit obviously bears a resemblance to you, and the spy in the black suit is obviously me… but the girl – red hair, green eyes? She looks nothing like Walker.”

Chuck had looked at Casey. “There’s a reason for that,” he said quietly. “I don’t want her to look like Sarah. First of all, it would’ve been too painful for me to design that, and secondly, call me a little selfish, but I want to keep the memory of Sarah as part of this to myself. I don’t want to share it in a video game, even if nobody knows who the characters really are based on.”

But no matter what Chuck’s reasons were for designing the character the way he had, it appeared that dumb luck had landed one of his all-time favorite actresses in his video game. HIS VIDEO GAME!

He managed to stay outwardly calm, while mentally doing jumping jacks and cartwheels. “Wow,” he said. “That’s fantastic!”

Her smile got a little bigger. “Well, glad to know you think so,” she said. Digging in her purse, she pulled out a card. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “Give me a call some time – I want to get some ideas from you on what this character’s supposed to be like. I figure if I’m going to be voicing her, it couldn’t hurt to go to the source!”

The jumping jacks and cartwheels were replaced by back handsprings. “Absolutely,” Chuck replied, doing his best to hide his incredulity.

“It was nice to meet you, Chuck,” Jewel said, shaking his hand again. “I’ll see you later!”

“Later,” Chuck replied, as she walked away.

“Holy SHIT, dude!” Morgan breathed, once she was out of earshot. “You lucky bastard!”

“She’s married,” Chuck replied – and then he jumped and punched the air. “YES!”

Morgan laughed as Casey walked over shaking his head. “Seriously, fanboy, what was that all about?” the NSA agent asked.

“EA has asked her to voice the female character in Mindnode!” Chuck replied with a grin.

Casey shook his head. “You and that damn video game.”

---

Two hours later, they were walking through another part of the center, when Morgan spotted something very attractive. “Princess Leia at two o’clock!” he hissed to Chuck.

Chuck looked where Morgan had indicated. Yes, indeed, there was a petite and rather attractive blonde, wearing the Princess Leia slave bikini – and nothing else. She was clearly trying to ignore a rather large and menacing looking Latino man who was wearing a Punisher t-shirt.

“Come on, babe, you know that the Princess wants to take a ride on the Punisher’s hog!” he smarmed.

She looked at him with malice in her eyes. “I really hope that you’re talking about your motorcycle, otherwise you’re gonna get Maced.”

“Aw, now what kind of way is that to talk? Of course the Weevil’s talking about his motorcycle… for now!”

The blonde grew a look of disgust on her face, and then smacked the man with her purse. Instantly, a look of fury crossed his face, and he grabbed the woman by her upper arm.

“Okay, that’s it,” Chuck muttered, starting across the hall. Casey was right behind him, his hand instinctively going to the butt of his gun.

“Excuse me!” Chuck called as he approached. Both the man in the Punisher t-shirt and the woman in the Leia bikini looked at him. “I’m pretty sure she indicated that she wants you to leave her alone.”

The man snorted. “What are you gonna do about it, white boy?”

Chuck shrugged. “Me, probably not much. But my friend here is a third-degree black belt, and could probably wipe the floor with you.”

“Please, do something,” Casey growled. “I need the practice.”

The man stared back at him. Finally, he let go of the woman’s arm, and began to walk away. “Chinga tu madre, pinche cabron,” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Straight back at you!” Casey called to his receding back.

“Glad to see the spirit of nerd camaraderie is alive and well at Comic-Con this year,” Chuck deadpanned to the woman in the Princess Leia bikini. He held out his hand. “I’m Chuck Bartowski, and normally I don’t do things like that. I don’t know what got into me.”

She smiled and took his hand. “Veronica Mars,” she replied. “And I appreciate the fact that you did something out of the ordinary. That guy’s been following me around all day.”

Devin and Morgan walked up, joining Chuck and Casey. “Wow,” Veronica said, looking around at them. “Mal Reynolds, Jack Harkness, Jim Gordon, and Clark Kent! Mind if I stick with you guys? I think I’d feel a lot safer.”

Morgan’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Now THAT is some serious nerd cred right there!”

He quickly composed himself. “Uh, Morgan Grimes.”

“John Casey.”

“Devin Woodcomb.”

“And absolutely you can hang out with us,” Chuck added. “We’d be happy to lend aid to the heir to the throne of Alderaan.”

“What’s left of it,” Veronica cracked.

“Indeed,” Chuck said, his face breaking into a rather large grin.

“If you’ll excuse me just a moment, I need to use the restroom,” she said. “I will be right back, I swear.”

Chuck continued to smile as he watched her walk off. “Wow,” Morgan said quietly. “I haven’t seen a smile on your face like that since… well…”

Chuck nodded. “I know.”

“She does look kind of like her, too,” Morgan observed.

“Yeah,” Chuck agreed, “sort of like the Mini-Me to her Doctor Evil.”

---

“Beckman, secure.”

“This is Mars, secure.”

“Report?”

“I’ve made contact. He’s with Major Casey, and two others – Grimes and Woodcomb. I’m going to wait till I can get a private moment with him to tell him who I really am.”

“Understood. Keep me updated.”

---

Veronica hung out with the four guys for the rest of the day. Interestingly enough, Chuck’s demeanor changed drastically over the course of the day. Before, he had been seemingly happy, but definitely still reserved. Now, it seemed that the combination of meeting Jewel Staite and finding out that she was going to be part of his video game, and then meeting this Veronica Mars – well, as far as Morgan could tell, Chuck was the happiest he’d been since January 29th.

Toward the end of the afternoon, Veronica asked Chuck if he’d like to go to dinner with her. “Absolutely!” Morgan interrupted, jumping in to the conversation. “We were all gonna go to Hooters – you’re welcome to come with us if you’d like.”

“Sorry, Morgan, I was thinking just me and Chuck,” Veronica replied with a slightly disbelieving smile. “But please, don’t let me stop the rest of you from going and getting your tits – uh, I mean hot wings.”

Morgan had tried to splutter a rebuttal to that remark, and both Casey and Devin had to turn away to keep from laughing at him. But sure enough, Veronica had dragged Chuck off, leaving the three others to go to Hooters without him.

Chuck and Veronica had both gone back to their hotel rooms, agreeing to meet down in the lobby at six o’clock. Chuck was still smiling when he reached his room to change.

As he was undressing, he realized that he still had Sarah’s picture in his breast pocket. He pulled it out and looked at her again. “I think you’d like her,” he said to the picture. “She looks a lot like you.”

He stood there for a moment, the smile fading from his face. He slowly set the picture down on the desk, and went back to changing.

Chuck had opened the door, and was just about to leave, when he stopped. He looked up at the ceiling, and then sighed. He turned around, walked rapidly back to the desk, and grabbed the picture. It went right back in his wallet – where it still belonged.

---

Veronica – who was apparently familiar with the San Diego area – had taken Chuck to a little place in Ocean Beach called, appropriately enough, the Ocean Beach Grille. It was pretty clear that it did a booming business on the weekends, but on a Thursday night, it was all but dead.

Chuck’s breath caught in his throat when he walked in and saw all the Patriots and Red Sox gear on the walls. If there was only one real thing he had known about Sarah, it was that she was a rabid fan of both of those two teams, but was fairly indifferent about the Celtics.

He sighed sadly. It would’ve been fun to needle her about the Patriots losing in the Superbowl.

Veronica looked at him in concern as they were seated. She could tell from his face that his demeanor had changed from that afternoon. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Chuck said quietly. “It’s just that my… um… ex-girlfriend was a big Patriots and Red Sox fan, and being here reminds me a lot of her.”

She cocked her head. “Was?”

Chuck nodded slowly. “She, uh, she… do you remember the woman who jumped off the Vincent Thomas Bridge back in January?”

Veronica’s eyes widened. “Yeah, what was her name? Sarah Walker… oh, no.”

Chuck nodded. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Chuck,” she said softly. “We can go if you want…”

“No, it’s okay,” Chuck replied. “I have to move past it at some point.”

She nodded – and then, pieces started falling into place, and her eyes narrowed. “Can you excuse me for just a second?” she asked.

“Sure,” Chuck said with a shrug.

Veronica walked outside the restaurant, pulled out her phone, and dialed.

“Beckman, secure.”

“Why the HELL didn’t you tell me that Chuck’s old handler was the woman who jumped off the Vincent Thomas Bridge?” Veronica demanded angrily. “And furthermore, why the HELL didn’t you tell me how he felt about her?”

There was silence for a moment, and then General Beckman spoke. “First of all, we didn’t think it was relevant for you to know about his previous handler.”

“Of COURSE it’s relevant!” Veronica exploded. “I need to know as MUCH AS POSSIBLE about this for me to properly work with him!”

Beckman sighed. “Fine. But what are you talking about how he felt about her?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” Beckman replied, a perplexed tone in her voice. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Veronica shook her head. “If you listen to him or look at his face when he’s talking about her, it’s pretty clear that he was in love with her.”

Beckman sighed. “Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised. Proceed with caution, Agent Mars. I don’t want the same thing to happen again.”

With a sigh of disgust, Veronica ended the call, and went back inside. No more beating around the bush.

“Chuck, can I ask you to do something?” she said as she sat down.

“Sure,” he replied, his brow furrowing.

“Trust me.”

He looked at her, confusion written on his face – and then, it dawned on him. “Oh for Christ’s sake,” he groaned. “Here we go again. What’s your real name?” he asked sarcastically. “Mary Mercury?”

She looked at him, hurt. “No, it’s Veronica Mars,” she replied quietly. “I’m not CIA. I’m FBI. And yeah, I’ve been assigned to be your handler.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I don’t NEED another handler,” he shot back. “Casey is MORE than enough, thank you.”

“Yes, but you’re moving,” Veronica said. “It would look suspicious and quite frankly, weird for Major Casey to follow you to your new apartment complex. He’ll still be one of your handlers, but the powers that be want somebody living near you to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, joy!” Chuck snarked. “That’s what I need, another government baby sitter.”

He laughed bitterly and shook his head. “I can’t believe I thought you were some innocent girl in distress. That guy who was harassing you – he’s just another agent, isn’t he?”

“No,” Veronica said, her eyes downcast. Her voice had taken on a quiet and hurt tone. “He’s just a friend of mine who I had asked to do me a favor. And if you’re wondering, yes, I actually am kind of upset by what you’re saying. I told you, I’m FBI. I haven’t had the training a CIA agent would’ve had.”

Chuck was quiet for a moment. Finally, he sighed. “Alright,” he said. “I mean, I hope you’ll understand why I have trouble trusting you. It’s not you – it’s just everything I’ve been through in the last ten months.”

Veronica nodded. “I understand,” she replied. “Better than you know. I’ll tell you about it some time… but right now, I think we should just have dinner. How about you?”

A glimmer of a smile started to return to Chuck’s face. “Now why would somebody like you want to have dinner with somebody like me?”

A smile returned to her face as well. “Because you’re cute, and I’m single?”

Chuck laughed. “Okay, well, I guess that’ll do. For now.”