Chuck In a Moment, Chapter 7: "The Wanderer"

3:07 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Wednesday, July 8th, 2009
Vancouver, British Columbia

“My GOD! You’re insane, you know that?! I can’t handle this shit right now, Chuck! I just can’t! You want to RESOLVE your feelings toward me?”

Keith van Eller looked over the top of his New York Times at the source of the noise. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Yet another twenty-something yuppie couple having some sort of argument over their coffee. It was EXACTLY why he had left Washington and moved to Vancouver.

“Well, resolve THIS, jackass.” Keith looked again, and smiled slightly as the little blonde extended her middle finger and stuck it in the guy’s face. He went back to the Times for a second – and then looked over the top of the paper in astonishment. There was NO WAY.

He stayed in his seat, quiet, until the guy had left the Starbucks. Then, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number he had memorized years before.

“This is Shea,” he heard.

“Ebbets,” he replied. “You’re not gonna believe this, but I just saw target 47… and target 1.”

In Brooklyn, New York, the man code-named Shea sat straight up in his chair. “Target 47 is a hell of a find,” he said quietly. “But you found target number ONE?!”

“Yeah,” van Eller replied. “I think they’re involved somehow.”

“You’re in Vancouver, right?” Shea asked.

“That’s affirmative.”

“Alright. Keep an eye on them. Don’t let them get away.”

---

9:07 P.M.
Stanley Park, Vancouver

Keith Van Eller was hidden behind the treeline. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. It was target 1, on one knee, proposing to a blonde woman – a blonde woman who was clearly NOT target 47.

“What the hell is this?” he asked himself.

Then the blonde woman turned around. “Oh my God, it’s the Operative,” he whispered.

He backed away, disappearing back into the trees, and pulled out his self phone again. “Jesus Christ, it’s after midnight. What the fuck is it?” he heard.

“Shea, this is Ebbets. We’ve got a problem. Target 1, and I’m assuming target 47, are in the company of the Operative.”

Van Eller could hear Shea sigh. “It’s not a problem,” he replied. “We’ll just take… um, irregular measures.”

---

11:42 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Saturday, July 11th, 2009
Peace Arch Border Crossing, British Columbia
US-Canada Border

It wasn’t nearly so complicated as getting back into the United States here as it was from Mexico. Nonetheless, there was a bit of a line.

The real surprise came when a Royal Mounted Police truck pulled up behind the Porsche and turned on its lights. A moment later, one pulled up behind the Crown Vic in the next lane over and did the same thing.

“What the hell?” asked Sarah. Nonetheless, she pulled the Porsche off to the side of the road, followed by the Crown Vic. She rolled down the window as the Mountie approached.

“Sarah Walker, Charles Bartowski?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s us.”

“Sarah Walker and Charles Bartowski, you are under arrest for being in possession of illegal firearms within Canada. Please step out of the car.”

Chuck looked over at Sarah and mouthed, What the hell is this?

She shook her head and mouthed back, I have no idea.

Sarah had not brought any guns along with her. Chuck sure as HELL hadn’t brought any. And if the Mounties could find all the tiny pieces bolted to the transmission that assembled into a .22 rifle, then they were welcome to it.

She wasn’t so sure about Casey and Veronica. They both looked rather unhappy as they were herded out of the Crown Vic. “This is not good,” Sarah muttered.

The Mounties waved a pair of tow trucks in. One backed up to the Crown Vic, and a flatbed pulled in front of the Porsche. “If there’s one scratch on that thing, I will burn Canada to the 

ground!” Sarah shouted angrily as the tow truck driver got out and began manhandling her precious 911.

“Ms. Walker, it would be advisable for you to shut up,” the Mountie behind her said.

---

Two hours later, all four of them were locked in an interrogation room. They hadn’t seen a soul since they were arrested.

“I don’t know how the law goes here, but in the US, we’re entitled to a lawyer. Hell, we SHOULD be entitled to a consular visit,” Veronica complained.

“This violates international treaty up the ASS,” Casey grumbled.

Sarah just shook her head and looked across the table at them both. “How many guns did they two of you have in the Crown Vic?”

“Not one,” Veronica replied. “At least, I didn’t.”

“I didn’t either,” Casey said. Sarah stared at him for a moment, and Casey stared right back. “Seriously! Do I look like I’ve lost my mind?”

“Okay,” Chuck said. “So if none of us had guns, then why in heaven’s name would somebody have told them that we did?”

“Well,” Casey sighed, “if I were a bettin’ man, I’d say Fulcrum’s involved with this somehow.”

“Oh, come on, Casey,” Chuck replied. “According to Bryce, Fulcrum has pretty much disappeared in the last ten days. Like, POOF. They all left the country.”

“Well, we’re not IN the country, are we?”

“We’re close enough,” Sarah interjected. “They wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“You never know,” Veronica said. “They’re criminals, and I know the criminal mind. Criminals tend to be, well, dumb.”

Casey started to say something, but Chuck cut him off. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Sarah asked.

“That,” Chuck said, pointing to thin, wispy white tendrils coming out of the vent in the ceiling.

“OH SHIT!” Casey shouted. “Cover your mouths and noses, try not to breathe!

Sarah ran to the door and started pounding on it. “OPEN THE DOOR!” she screamed. “OPEN THE DOOR!”

“What’s going on?!” Veronica asked, her eyes wide with fear.

“Somebody’s gassing us, that’s what!” Casey yelled back from behind his shirt. “Now everybody SHUT UP! Get as close to floor as you can! Try to breathe as little as possible! If you must breathe, breathe through your shirt!”

Sarah, Chuck, and Veronica all did as he instructed. Casey picked up the chair he had been sitting in and hurled it at the mirrored window. It simply bounced off. “Goddammit!” he yelled, and then he staggered. “Oh, no…”

Casey collapsed to the floor.

“Chuck?” Veronica said, but her voice sounded weak. “Chuck… I’m feeling weird…”

“Veronica, stop… talking…” Sarah gasped. She felt weird too. “No…”

She started to crawl toward Chuck, but her legs weren’t working. She pulled herself over to him.

Chuck looked at her, his face full of fear. “Sarah…” he said, his voice strangled.

“I’m here,” she said, tears beginning to spill down her face. She reached her left hand out for his hand, and laced her fingers through his.

“I… I… love you…”

“No, Chuck, we’re gonna get through this…”

“Sarah, please…”

“Chuck, I love you too…”

And the world went black.

---

3:17 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Lincoln Park, Blaine, Washington, USA

Sarah’s eyes flew open – and immediately squeezed back shut. The light was too bright.

Ever so slowly, she cracked her eyes back open. She was in a car. Not her car, though. It was Casey’s Crown Vic. She was sitting on the passenger side.

It hurt to turn her head – but sitting in the driver’s seat was John Casey. He was still unconscious. Sarah tried to move – and quickly found that her left wrist was handcuffed to Casey’s right wrist.

Her left hand! She gasped and extended her fingers – the ring was still there.

“What the hell is going on?” she croaked.

The sound of her voice was enough to waken John Casey. “What the hell happened?” he asked.

“No idea whatsoever.”

“Hey, isn’t that your Porsche over there?”

Sarah turned her head and looked out her window. Sure enough, it was her 911 parked at the other end of the empty parking lot. The Porsche appeared to be empty. “Yes, it certainly is,” she replied, grabbing the door handle and opening the door –

And the Porsche exploded. The fireball erupted from the engine compartment in the back of the car. The force of the explosion flipped the car over, and it came to rest on its top, burning, on what appeared to be a playground.

“Jesus Christ,” breathed Casey – and then a phone rang.

It was Sarah’s phone, on the floor in front of her. She reached down – and it was a bit of a stretch, being handcuffed to Casey, but she reached the phone anyway. She picked it up –

It was Chuck. “Oh my God,” she whispered, hitting the call button. “CHUCK!”

“Not quite, Operative,” she heard a mechanically altered voice say. “Mr. Bartowski and Ms. Mars are… safe. Your Porsche was a warning. Don’t attempt to find them. If you do… there will be consequences.”

Before Sarah could say anything more, the call was disconnected. “What the hell was that?” Casey asked.

“I don’t know,” Sarah replied. “But we need to find a police station. And we need to call Director Graham.”

---

7:01 P.M., Eastern Daylight Time
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

Arthur Graham, director of the CIA, boarded the elevator on the administration floor. He stuck a keycard into the elevator’s card reader. When it flashed green, he withdrew the card and pushed the button for level B4.

Sub-Basement Four. Nearly one hundred feet below the surface of the earth. Legend had it that if you went down there, you didn’t come back up.

Legend was nearly correct. Occasionally, an interrogator went down there and came back up. Right at the moment, Art Graham was about to be one of those interrogators.

He strode down the dimly lit corridor until he arrived at the room he was looking for. Room B404. He nodded to the guard who had accompanied him. The guard entered a sixteen-digit code into the keypad by the door, and a buzzer sounded as the door unlocked.

Graham opened the door and stepped in. The room was sparsely but comfortably appointed. A small bathroom. A desk. A chair, a bed. A veritable library of books. Paper, and pens the CIA had engineered so that there was absolutely no way they could be used as weapons.

A woman sat in the chair in the middle of the room. When she heard the door open, she turned around.

“Hello, Arthur,” said Louisa Beckman, former director of the National Security Agency and former commander of the organization known as Fulcrum. She smiled. “It’s only been nine days, and yet already you’ve come to see me. How sweet.”

Graham did not return the smile. He dispensed completely with preliminaries. “Bartowski and Mars were kidnapped while waiting to cross back into the country near Vancouver,” he said. “I want to know what the hell happened to them.”

“Quid pro quo, Director Graham,” Beckman said sweetly.

“Okay,” Graham said simply, nodding. He turned around and walked back into the hallway, and when he came back into the cell, he had the guard with him. Graham seized Beckman’s arm, dragged her to the desk, and slammed her arm down on it.

“Now, here’s your quid pro quo,” Graham hissed. “For every answer you give me, I let you keep your fingers. Every time I think you’re lying, my friend here shoots one of them off.”

That got Beckman’s attention very quickly. “You said they were taken in Canada?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“That is, in fact, what I said.”

Beckman smiled again. “Then you’re never gonna see them again,” she replied.

“Why the hell not?”

She cocked her head and looked at Graham. “There’s a Fulcrum base in Saskatchewan,” she replied. “It’s an auxiliary field for Moose Jaw Air Force Base. That’s where they’ll be. But you’ll never get in there. There’s not a chance.”

Graham looked down at her. “And what exactly makes you think that?”

“Oh, Arthur, I envy your innocence sometimes,” Beckman replied with a smile. “If you knew that I was the commander of Fulcrum…

“Then how could you not have known that the Prime Minister of Canada was Fulcrum’s second in command?”

To be continued...

Chuck In a Moment, Chapter 6: "When Love Comes to Town"

9:02 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Wednesday, July 8th, 2009
Stanley Park, Vancouver, British Columbia

Chuck and Sarah stood just beyond the seawall on the coast of Stanley Park. The moon hung low on the eastern horizon, a huge glowing ball of gold in the sky.

Sarah smiled. “Well, how about this,” she said softly. “We’re on a beach, and it’s the full moon rising. You wouldn’t happen to have a blue velvet box in your pocket, would you?”

“Nope,” Chuck replied, with a devious grin.

Sarah’s stomach just about dropped to her feet. “What?”

---

Six Hours Beforehand
3:00 P.M.
Vancouver

Sarah and Casey were on the videophone, talking to Director Graham about the last few days, and the fact that Sarah and Chuck had figured out exactly what was going on with Casey and Veronica tailing them. Chuck had taken advantage of the opportunity to get Veronica out and talk to her about his residual feelings.

There was a Starbucks a little more than a block from the Renaissance Hotel, and that’s where Chuck and Veronica had gone. Veronica had gotten herself a simple caramel macchiato, whereas Chuck had gone for his usual sugarbomb venti java chip frappucino.

“I don’t know how you can drink those things,” Veronica said, rolling her eyes. “They make my teeth hurt just to think about them.”

“They’re GOOD!” Chuck insisted, sitting down on a stool at the counter overlooking the street. “And, it’ll keep me awake all day!”

“Have you been having problems staying awake?” Veronica asked.

“I haven’t been getting much sleep,” Chuck replied.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “I’m aware.”

Chuck winced. “Sorry,” he said, an apologetic look on his face. “We were both kind of pissed off when we realized the two of you were following us, and we wanted to make you pay for it a little.”

Veronica shook her head. “Yeah, I gathered that once we found out that you knew we were there. There was one, though… Yesterday morning, in Newport… um, you guys woke up and were a little friskier than usual… and I was listening, and, well…”

Chuck looked confused. “I’m not quite sure I get where you’re going with this.”

Veronica clenched her teeth and looked toward the ceiling. “Let’s just say it, uh, got me hot under the collar and drove me to… extraordinary measures.”

Chuck’s eyes went wide and his face turned bright red. “Ohhh,” he said. “My goodness.”

“Yeah, and Casey caught me coming out of the bathroom.”

Chuck clapped a hand to his mouth. “Oh my God,” he muttered. “That is perhaps the most humiliating thing I’ve ever heard.”

Veronica cocked her head and put on a fake smile. “Yeah, how do you think I felt?”

Chuck put both his hands to his face. “I am so sorry,” he said quietly. “That wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t…”

“Yeah, let’s not worry about that,” Veronica said, effectively ending that train of conversation. “What did you want to come down here to talk to me about?”

“Well,” Chuck began uneasily, “I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet, but…”

He pulled the blue velvet box out of his pocket and set it on the table. Veronica sighed. “Yeeeah,” she said slowly. “Watched ya buy it.”

Chuck nodded. “So I assume you know what it’s for.”

Veronica made a face and tapped the side of her head. “I am pretty smart,” she said. “I sort of figured it out.”

“Alright,” Chuck said. “So, then, you understand, I want to ask Sarah to marry me.”

“And you want me to be your best man?!” Veronica said, gleefully sarcastic. “Oh, Chuck, of course!”

Chuck just looked at her. “You’re really making this difficult, you know that?”

“Wow, Chuck, I’m sorry,” Veronica snapped, “but you know, two months ago, I thought you were in love with me. Then you dumped me in the middle of the night, then Sarah comes back from the dead –“

“Don’t, DON’T drag her into this,” Chuck interrupted angrily.

“I don’t have anything against HER,” Veronica shot back. “She came back because she was in love with an incredible guy! I can hardly fault her for THAT. But I can fault YOU. YOU helped her evade arrest, which, by the way, made me look pretty bad with the FBI. YOU ran off to Catalina with her for two fun-filled days of sun and debauchery. And when I finally caught up with you, what did I do? Why, I called up my friend Logan Echolls, who spent FIVE MILLION DOLLARS of his own money to get you and Sarah off the hook!

“After that, did I get so much as a ‘thank you’ or a, a, a ‘I’ll give you a call, we’ll hang out sometime’? NO! You get in a Porsche with Sarah, and BOOM! You’re gone! Director Graham tells me and Casey to get on your ass, and we spend the next three nights listening to the two of you having wild monkey sex in your hotel rooms!”

Veronica’s voice had gotten progressively louder and louder, and she practically shouted the last part. That’s when she realized she was standing up, and people were staring. With a huff, she sat back down.

“Wow,” Chuck said dryly. “Impressive.”

“You should see me when I REALLY get riled up,” Veronica snarked.

“Yeah. Well, here’s the thing, and this is probably gonna get you really riled up. I, uh, I still have a great deal of, um, feelings toward you. I had to talk to you, get them resolved before I could feel comfortable asking Sarah to marry me.”

Veronica clasped her hands to either side of my head. “My GOD!” she said. “You’re insane, you know that?! I can’t handle this shit right now, Chuck! I just can’t! You want to RESOLVE your feelings toward me?”

She leaned in toward him. “Well, resolve THIS, jackass.” Veronica lifted her right hand, slowly extended the middle finger, and then put it right up in Chuck’s face so she could see it.

Then, without a word, she got off of her stool, grabbed her coffee, and stormed out of the Starbucks without a backward glance.

Chuck sighed. “Shit.”

---

3:15 P.M.
Neptune, California

Logan Echolls was poolside. He had been for most of the day. It was good to be the Balboa County Commissioner.

He was in the process of laying in the sun and gleefully allowing the ultraviolet radiation to turn his skin into one gigantic carcinoma when his phone rang. With a sigh of disgust, he grabbed it off the table next to him and hit the talk button.

“Echolls’ House of Love and Debauchery,” he said. “What’s your pleasure?”

“Dude, I fucked up. I need advice.”

Logan sat up on his chaise lounge. “Why, Charles Bartowski. What did you fuck up? Don’t tell me you have a dead prostitute in your hotel room.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Very funny, Logan,” Chuck replied. “No, I really, really pissed off Veronica.”

Logan smiled. “Ah, my good man, then you should just kiss your nuts good-bye. Men who scorn the Mars usually get verbally castrated in public.”

“Already happened, I think.”

Logan was slightly taken aback. “Wow. What the hell did you say to her?”

“I’m planning on asking Sarah to marry me, but, I’ve got these lingering feelings for Veronica that I wanted to talk to her about first. All did not go as planned, and she called me a jackass and flipped me off in the middle of a Starbucks.”

“Oh, that’s not –“

Logan stopped. “Wait a second. You’re in Vancouver. With Sarah. What the hell is Veronica doing in Vancouver?”

“Work, Logan, and that’s all I can say,” Chuck replied. “And before you even ask, yes, Sarah knew she was here.”

“Okay, I won’t ask any further,” Logan replied. “But otherwise… seriously, the best thing you can do is wait a little while – at least an hour – until she blows off some steam, and then find her and apologize. Sincerely. Don’t lie, don’t BS her. She’ll know, and then you’ll be in even deeper shit. Just be sincere and honest. Trust me. I’ve had to do it, oh, about a million times.”

Chuck sighed again. “Alright. I didn’t even mean to make her angry in the first place. I just wanted to be honest with her.”

“Dude, that’s the thing you’ve got to understand about Veronica Mars,” Logan told him. “She’s a very passionate woman with a very short fuse. You spark that fuse one way, she will blow your mind. You spark it another, she’ll just blow your brains out.”

“So I’ve gathered,” Chuck said wryly. “Okay. So apologize.”

“And be sincere.”

“Yes, Logan.”

“That’s County Supervisor Mr. Echolls to you, bud.”

---

6:15 P.M.

Chuck had been looking for Veronica all afternoon. He was getting desperate, and upset. He was supposed to be meeting Sarah in the lobby at 6:30. He absolutely wanted to ask her tonight, and he REALLY wanted to talk to Veronica first.

So perhaps it was a stroke of providence that she was sitting in the lobby, working on her laptop when Chuck exited the elevator. Chuck took a deep breath, and walked straight toward her.

“Hey,” he said quietly, approaching her.

She looked up and smiled. “Hi, jackass!”

Chuck’s shoulders slumped, and he bit his lip. “Can we try that again?” he asked. “Hi.”

She sighed and looked at the ground. “Hi, Chuck.”

“Listen,” he started, “I’m sorry about this afternoon. I was, um, a total asshole…”

“Yes, yes, you were.”

“I know I’ve been making your life a little rough lately, and I really wish I hadn’t. I especially wish that Sarah and I hadn’t gone out of our way to make you guys uncomfortable.”

Veronica smiled and looked at the ground. “Veronica,” Chuck continued, “look. Everything I said about having feelings for you aside, I still really, really care about you. You’re an amazing person, and without you, there’s no way I would’ve made it through the few months after I met you.”

Veronica looked up at him and nodded. “You’re probably the most honest, most sincere person I’ve ever met, Chuck,” she said with a smile. Then her smile got bigger. “You talked to Logan, didn’t you?”

Chuck threw his hands up in the air. “Have I no secrets?”

“Well, in the interest of full disclosure…”

“Oh God. Now what?”

Veronica’s smile got very coy just then, and she ducked her head a little. “Do you know what Sarah’s real name is?”

Chuck held up his hand. “No, Veronica. Don’t even go there. I don’t care if you’re an FBI agent, I can’t tell you what her real name is.”

Veronica laughed. “I already know what it is,” she replied. “How do you think we found you guys on Catalina Island?”

“Oh.” Chuck paused. “Okay,” he conceded. “So, where are you going with this?”

“Her name’s Elizabeth Reynolds,” Veronica replied. “Do you remember what I told you my mom’s maiden name was?”

Chuck thought for a moment. “Your mom’s name is… Lianne…”

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. “NO. FREAKING. WAY.”

Veronica nodded and bit her lower lip. “Lianne Reynolds,” she completed for him. “Her cousin, Marcus… they weren’t that terribly close, but she really looked up to him. He lived in Boston… and he had a daughter by the name of Elizabeth about five years before I was born.”

Chuck smacked his hands against his forehead. “You’re Sarah’s COUSIN?!”

Veronica shrugged. “Second cousin. I didn’t connect the dots myself until, oh, about two hours ago. A little research and, bada-bing, bada-boom.”

Chuck shook his head. He felt a little dizzy. “This is… um…”

And that was the point at which the elevator doors opened and Sarah stepped out. She looked stunning.

“Wow,” Chuck breathed, turning toward her. “You look… incredible.”

Sarah smiled. “Well, thank you, Chuck. You look like… well, you look great. Just like you always do.”

He grinned. “You ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” Sarah replied. “Although, I need to talk to… my COUSIN… first.”

Chuck gave Veronica a look of disbelief. “You TOLD her?!”

“Couple of hours ago,” Sarah replied. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“No more!” Chuck groaned. “My head is going to explode!”

“Okay,” Sarah said. “Then go outside while we talk.”

Chuck shook his head and headed toward the door. “I’m surrounded by crazy people,” he muttered as he left.

“So,” Sarah said to Veronica. “You know what Chuck plans on asking me tonight, right?”

“I’m very aware,” Veronica replied. “I won’t lie and say that it’s been the easiest thing for me to deal with, but I’m glad that he’s going to be happy.”

“Well, then… I mean, if you’re okay with it… um, how would you feel about being one of my bridesmaids? I mean, as the only relative I even know about on this side of the country, I would ask you to be my maid of honor, but…”

Sarah sighed. “Ellie Woodcomb has always been really, very kind to me. She accepted me into her family, and she always had the highest hopes for me and Chuck. I more than deserved the fact that she whaled on me when I showed back up, but… I think I owe it to her, and to Chuck, to see if she’d be willing to be the matron of honor.”

Veronica nodded. “I completely understand, Sarah.” Then her face broke into a smile. “And yes, I would be honored.”

She put a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Now, I think it’s time for you to go get engaged.”

---

9:02 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Wednesday, July 8th, 2009
Stanley Park, Vancouver, British Columbia

That night had been really fun. They’d been to dinner at an incredible Italian restaurant, and spent most of the last half hour exploring Stanley Park.

Now they stood just beyond the seawall on the coast. The moon hung low on the eastern horizon, a huge glowing ball of gold in the sky.

Sarah smiled. “Well, how about this,” she said softly. “We’re on a beach, and it’s the full moon rising. You wouldn’t happen to have a blue velvet box in your pocket, would you?”

“Nope,” Chuck replied, with a devious grin.

Sarah’s stomach just about dropped to her feet. “What?”

Chuck held up his left hand. The moonlight sparkled off the tip of his pinky finger.

She shook her head and laughed – but the laugh was cut off as Chuck slowly bent to one knee. The smile on his face almost glowed in the moonlight. He took her left hand in his right hand, slipped the ring off of his pinky finger, and onto her left ring finger.

“So, Sarah Walker,” he said quietly. “I’ve been thinking for a while now. You know, since, well, since I met you. I have this odd, overwhelming desire to spend the rest of my life with you. These last few days have been the best time of my life, and I really would like for every day to be like that.”

He couldn’t help it. The smile on his face got even bigger. “Sarah, how would you feel about spending the rest of your life with me?”

She smiled back coyly. “You mean…”

“Sarah Walker, will you marry me?”

She nodded, her smile growing to the same size as his. “Absolutely.”

Chuck In a Moment, Chapter 5: "Mysterious Ways"

1:30 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Tuesday, July 7th, 2009
The Space Needle, Seattle, Washington

Sarah Walker had never – in this life or her “previous” civilian life – been to Seattle. Chuck had been half a dozen times since he was a kid.

And Sarah seemed like a little kid herself as they came out of the elevator at the top of the Space Needle. “This is SO cool,” she breathed. She laughed giddily as they exited outside onto the observation deck.

“You know, Chuck,” she said, turning to him with a smile on her face, “I’d be okay with it if you decided to forgo the moon and the beach, because right here, right now would be quite alright, too.”

Chuck looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. Then he reached into his pocket and came back out with the blue velvet box. “Really.”

Sarah’s eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. “Really?” she echoed him.

Chuck smiled and opened the box. “Sarah Walker…” he said, “I think…”

He snapped the box shut again. “That you’re just gonna have to wait until the moment is perfect.”

Chuck slid the box back into this pocket, and Sarah playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “Jerk,” she said.

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk, right?”

Sarah smiled. “Damn right.”

Chuck kissed her, and then stepped to the edge. He grabbed one of the coin-operated telescopes, swiveling it around. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out two quarters and slipped them into the telescope. The lens opened, and he put his eyes to the viewer, looking around –

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said with a laugh. “Take a look.”

Sarah looked at him, puzzled, and then stepped up to the telescope. She looked through –

And saw that it was pointed at a maroon Ford Crown Victoria. “Why, hello Casey!” she snickered.

The NSA agent was leaning against the car, smoking a cigar. Veronica Mars was sitting on the hood of the car – and she looked really unhappy.

Sarah pulled back from the telescope. “Chuck?”

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Take a look,” she replied. Chuck looked through the telescope.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “She doesn’t look very happy.”

“No, Chuck, she really doesn’t,” Sarah replied. “Do you think she saw us yesterday afternoon? Do you think that’s why she looks upset?”

Chuck sighed. “I’d say there’s a chance that that has something to do with it,” he said.

“When was the last time you talked to her? I mean, she is your friend, Chuck, and she may be feeling like you abandoned her.”

Chuck gave Sarah a weird look. “What are you now, an amateur psychiatrist?”

“Nooo,” Sarah said slowly, “just a woman saying I understand how she might be feeling.”

Chuck sighed. “I’ve tried to call her every day. She doesn’t answer the phone – probably because she doesn’t want to potentially give away the fact that they’re following us – and she won’t return my calls.”

“Probably for the same reason,” Sarah mused. “Well, maybe we should try to make this experience a little less torturous for her.”

“How so?”

“No more loud sex, mister,” Sarah said. That was enough to draw curious glances from a few people around her, which she ignored. “Unless we’re in the shower.”

Chuck narrowed his eyes. “You’re no fun sometimes.”

Sarah shrugged. “Just looking out for a fellow woman.”

“Fine,” Chuck replied, rolling his eyes. “Are we still going to pull our little bait-and-switch stunt on them tomorrow?”

Sarah grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

---

Chuck and Sarah were still both awake at 1:00 A.M., but they had closed the blackout drapes to prevent the possibility of somebody spying on them. Chuck changed into all black, and then snuck out of the room. He headed downstairs, and slunk out to Sarah’s Porsche. “Sorry,” he whispered, and sank Sarah’s switchblade into the right front tire.

“Is it done?” she asked when he returned to the hotel room. He nodded, causing her to cringe. “My poor baby…”

Chuck rolled his eyes and crossed to the table she was sitting at. It’s a tire, he typed on her MacBook. They’ll put on a whole new set at the dealership while they’re exchanging Casey’s tracking fluids for new fluids.

“I know that,” she hissed. “But it’s the principle of the thing!”

“You and the principle of the thing,” Chuck groused, turning for the bed. He was not expecting to be tackled from behind.

“Ooof,” he grunted as he collapsed onto the bed. Sarah grabbed him by the shoulder and violently flipped him over.

“You are SO gonna pay for that,” she growled, a rather fierce smile on her face.

Chuck didn’t say anything – just smiled right back.

---

Casey sat in his hotel room three floors below, listening to the goings-on in Sarah and Chuck’s suite. He sighed and decided it was probably a good thing that he was monitoring right now, and that Mars was asleep. He was actually starting to feel sorry for her – this was not the first time in his life that he’d seen the sort of looks that she was giving Chuck through the camera while doing surveillance.

Then he heard something particularly disturbing and did his best to suppress a groan. “You two are twisted on the inside,” he muttered to himself.

---

8:30 A.M.
July 8th, 2009

Casey and Veronica had already been downstairs in the Crown Vic for half an hour when Chuck and Sarah came down to the Porsche. Veronica had a parabolic microphone pointed at the Porsche, which she would turn off as soon as the car started – the engine noise would render it completely useless.

And so she heard when Chuck said, “Aw, are you kidding me?”

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

“Somebody slashed the right front tire.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

There was a moment of silence, and then Sarah’s voice again – “Goddammit!” Sarah was quiet again, and then Veronica heard her say, “My member number is one three nine five six zero five one four. I’m at the Fairmont Olympic, and somebody’s slashed one of my tires. I need to have it towed to the nearest Porsche dealership.”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, and then said, “California license plate five zulu alpha victor four five two. It’s a black 2005 Porsche 911.” Another pause. ”Fifteen minutes? Okay, thank you.”

Veronica turned to Casey. “Well, we’re gonna be here a little while longer,” she said. “Somebody slashed one of her tires. She just got off the phone with AAA – they’re sending a tow truck to take the car to the nearest Porsche dealership…”

She opened Safari on her iBook and pulled up Google Maps. “…which is in the eleven thousand block of northeast Eighth Street in Bellevue, about eleven miles from here.”

“Great,” Casey grumbled. “Do me a favor, see if there’s a Ford dealership anywhere around there.”

Veronica searched, and reported, “About half a mile away.”

“Good, an inconspicuous place to hide,” Casey sighed. “It’ll take a while for them to change her tires. Might as well get the oil changed while we’re over there.”

---

Two hours later, the Crown Vic’s oil had been changed, and the trackers on the Porsche still hadn’t moved. “This is the most boring stakeout of all time,” Casey grumbled.

“Again, we can blame the CIA,” Veronica replied. “You said it yourself, this was Graham’s call.”

Casey nodded. “Still, I am kind of getting concerned about not hearing from General Beck-“

“They’re on the move!” Veronica interrupted him.

“Finally,” Casey growled.

Casey pulled out of the Ford dealership just as the blinking tracker crossed their longitudinal position on the east-west street a half mile north of them. “On the road again, just can’t wait to get back on the road again…”

Veronica looked at Casey in disbelief. “Major Casey!”

“What?”

“Please stop singing.”

---

Sarah waited on the side of the street a block east of the intersection and waited until Casey turned left. “Alright, Major, let’s see how good your counter-intelligence skills are,” she muttered.

Chuck looked over at her. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Sarah smiled. “It has been FAR too long since I got to do something like this,” she replied. “You BET I’m enjoying this.”

---

Twenty minutes later, the Crown Vic was on I-5 headed north, toward Canada. “I’m surprised we haven’t spotted them yet,” Veronica mused.

“Traffic’s pretty heavy, Mars,” Casey replied. “And according to the tracker, they’re still a ways ahead of us.”

“That’s true.”

---

“So, if neither of them is picking up their phone, how do you plan to contact them?” Sarah asked. They were a quarter mile behind the Crown Vic.

“I can remotely access the Buy More switchboard,” Chuck replied. “Casey won’t ignore a call if it’s coming from them. He can’t afford to get into trouble at the Buy More – the NSA will rake his ass over the coals if he does.”

Sarah nodded. “Very true.” Then she smiled and shook her head. “You know, if Bryce hadn’t gotten you kicked out of Stanford… you really would’ve made a great agent, you know that?”

Chuck actually blushed. “Nah,” he said, waving the compliment off. “When we were actually working together, I screwed things up all the time.”

“The physical end of things, maybe,” Sarah argued. “But that’s just because you never had the training. Your mental acumen, the way you see things – I mean, I’m not trying to pad your ego here, but you’re brilliant. You can see your way around intelligence situations in a way that no other agent I’ve ever known can.”

Chuck grinned from ear to ear. “Well, coming from the legendary Operative, I’ll take that at face… value…”

His voice trailed off as Sarah’s expression went from pleased to not-so-pleased. “Oh, shit.”

“How did you know that nickname?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Chuck sighed. “How do you think?” He tapped his head.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shook his head. “Well, because when I found out, I thought you were dead, and when you came back, I had bigger things on my mind.”

Sarah continued to give him a stern look – but then it broke, and she started laughing. “Oh, man, I had you going there for a moment,” she said.

Chuck’s jaw dropped. “Oh, you SUCK!” he said.

Sarah smiled. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. The look on your face – priceless.”

She turned her attention back to the road. “Don’t ever call me that again, though, or I’ll kill you.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I’m sure you know fifty ways to do it, too.”

“Over a hundred, actually. There’s the Crown Vic. Time to make the call.”

---

In Burbank, an automated system picked up. A moment later, a code was entered, giving the dialing phone remote access to the switchboard. Shortly after that, an outgoing call was placed from the line at the Nerd Herd desk.

Two seconds later, John Casey’s phone began to ring. He glanced at it, saw the 818 area code, and was about to ignore it, when he realized that it was the Buy More trunk line. “Oh, hell,” he muttered. He reached out and pushed a button, putting it on speakerphone. “This is Casey.”

“JOHN CASEY!” the voice of Chuck Bartowski boomed into the car. “Damn, you’re a difficult man to get a hold of!”

Casey rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Bartowski?”

“Listen, Sarah needs a favor. We’re following this car that looks a little suspicious, and I was wondering if you could run the plate?”

Casey glanced at Veronica. She nodded, and began to pull up a program.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Okay, it’s California license plate five charlie alpha whiskey eight eight two,” Chuck said. “2004 Ford Crown Victoria, maroon in color.”

Casey’s heart just about stopped, as he realized Chuck had just described the Crown Vic to a T. “Uh, I, I’m sorry, Bartowski, what?”

“When was the last time you checked your rear view mirror?”

Casey gritted his teeth. “Fuck,” he breathed, and looked in the rear view mirror.

Sure enough, there was Sarah Walker’s Porsche 911. Sarah smiled and waved, and Chuck gave him the finger.

Veronica’s mouth had dropped open in disbelief. “How – they’re supposed to be in front of us!” she said, indicating the screen.

“Hi, Veronica!” Chuck said cheerfully. “I’ll explain in a moment. Take the next exit.”

And so Casey got off at the next exit. He pulled into the parking lot of the Shell station by the side of the road, and Sarah’s 911 followed him in.

Casey and Veronica got out of the Crown Vic, and Sarah and Chuck got out of the 911. “Alright, Bartowski, fair’s fair,” Casey growled. “How’d you find us?”

“In a moment,” Chuck replied. “First things first. You.”

He pointed at Veronica. Her eyebrows arched. “Yes, you. Come here.”

A wary look in her eyes, she crossed the space between the two cars to Chuck – and when she reached him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, embracing her tightly. Definitely not what she had been expecting, but she certainly didn’t object. She wrapped her arms around his back and sighed contentedly.

“I’m sorry if you felt like I had abandoned or betrayed you,” he said quietly. “I really care about you, Veronica Mars. I think of you as one of my best friends, and I would never, ever want to hurt you. Okay?”

She smiled, and pulled back from him. Looking up at Chuck, Veronica said, “Okay.”

Casey grunted. “Are you done?”

“Yes, Casey,” Chuck replied, almost as if he was humoring a small child. “I suppose you’d like to know how we found you?”

“I imagine that was Walker’s doing.”

“Actually, no,” Sarah replied. “It was all Chuck.”

Chuck smiled and nodded. “I figured it out initially when we were between Carmel and Eureka,” he told them. “I decided there had to be a reason why neither of you were answering your phones. We faked car trouble, pulled over, and saw you pass us.

“That night, while we were in Eureka, I figured out how you were tracking us – with nanotrackers in the fluids, right?”

Casey nodded grudgingly.

“Well, Sarah wanted to wait till we could actually go to a Porsche dealership to change the fluids. So, we decided to humor you a couple more days. We saw you again in Newport, but we ignored you. Then, last night, I snuck out after dark and slashed the right front tire.”

Casey thought for a moment – “Of course!” he exploded. “I should’ve realized after that little stunt three weeks ago! That’s your trademark!”

“Indeed it is,” Chuck said. “So, we had it towed to the Porsche dealership, where they changed out ALL the fluids – even the Freon – while they were changing the tires. They placed the used fluids on a disposal truck, which left the dealership right in front of us. After that, it was simply a matter of waiting for you to follow them and pull out in front of us, following you, and placing a remote call through the Buy More switchboard.”

Casey and Veronica both stared at Chuck for a moment. Finally, Casey spoke.

“Not bad, Bartowski,” he said, with a tone of grudging admiration in his voice. “Not bad at all.”

Chuck In a Moment, Chapter 4: "All I Want Is You"

4:01 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Monday, July 6th, 2008
Eagle House Victorian Inn, Eureka, California

Chuck sat bolt upright in bed. “Holy shit! I know how they’re tracking us!”

The exclamation pulled Sarah from her sleep. She sat up, looked at Chuck, and then held a finger to her lips. She grabbed the notepad and wrote, You’ve got to keep it quiet if we don’t want them to catch on to us.

Chuck took the notepad and started to write something back, and then he had a better idea. Reaching down from the bed, he grabbed his backpack, opened it up, and pulled out his laptop. Made by Alienware, it was a fantastic high-end gaming platform, but right at that moment, all he needed was Microsoft Word.

You know how Casey’s a big fan of tracking nanocells, right? he typed. Puts them in food, coffee, that kind of thing, so he can keep track of people.

Right, Sarah typed back. You think he’s tracking our bodies?!

Not possible, Chuck replied. Neither of us has had any food or drink that could have been exposed to him since the 28th or 29th. They all would have passed out of our systems by now.

So where would they be? Sarah typed, a curious look on her face.

The fluids in your car, Chuck said. Obviously the ones in the gas get burned off fairly quickly, but the oil, the power steering fluid, the transmission fluid, the brake fluid, the coolant, the wiper fluid, hell, probably even the Freon in your air conditioner.

So, the answer then is to flush the systems, Sarah typed. That’s going to be difficult. I don’t want to take the car anywhere but a Porsche dealership to have that done, and we’re not going to run across another one of those on our route till we hit Seattle.

Chuck looked over at her and smiled. That’s okay, he typed. Gives us another couple days to screw with their heads.

---

6:30 A.M.

Veronica was tired. She still had the headphones on. The last two and a half hours had been excruciatingly boring. Just after she put the headphones on, there had been a few minutes where it sounded like one of the two was typing on a laptop, but she figured that it was Chuck – he’d probably had a flash of inspiration about his next video game.

After that, it had been nothing but breathing and snoring.

Until now.

“Good morning,” she heard Chuck say, his voice thick with sleep.

“Mmm… morning,” was the reply from an equally tired sounding Sarah Walker.

“Why are you up already?”

”Might ask the same…”

Then she heard what sounded distinctly like a kiss, followed by rustling cloth – probably the sheets being thrown off the bed.

“Oh, please God, no,” Veronica whined softly.

Then there was a moan, and Sarah said something unintelligible. A disgusted look crossed Veronica’s face, and yet, she sat there, in rapt attention.

The noises increased – from both parties. Veronica’s eyes got wider. A flush began to creep up her cheeks.

“This is the most fucked-up job I’ve ever had,” she whispered.

---

6:51 A.M.

John Casey slowly came awake. He looked around the dimly lit room. The surveillance station was abandoned, and there was nobody sleeping on the floor – and all of Veronica’s personal effects still sat on the nightstand.

“What the hell?” he said quietly. “Mars! Mars, where the hell are you?!”

The bathroom door swung open, and the diminutive FBI agent popped out. Her hair was mussed, her eyes wide. Her face was bright pink, and there was a distinctly guilty look on her face.

Casey studied her for a moment. “What the hell were you doing in there?” he finally asked.

“Nothing,” she replied, a little too quickly. “Uh, nothing at all.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Casey’s face. “Riiiight.”

---

4:00 P.M.
Newport, Oregon

Casey and Veronica’s entire drive up from Eureka had been spent in silence, interrupted only by the occasional comment from one to the other. Veronica spent the entire time staring at her laptop screen, refusing to carry on a conversation with Casey.

Of course, there was no good way to get around the awkwardness – Casey thought it was hilarious that he’d woken up just as Veronica was, as he put it, “finishing herself off”. Veronica, on the other hand, failed to see the humor in it.

Part of it was, of course, a certain measure of jealousy. She’d spent the better part of a year being a supportive friend to Chuck, helping him to get through one of the toughest times of his life. She’d also had what she considered to be one of her more productive relationships with him – certainly more so than the insanity that was Duncan Kane, or the self-destructive cycle that was Logan Echolls, or the sheer stupidity that was Piz Piznarski.

And then, Sarah Walker had come waltzing back into his life, and what did he do? Why, he became a fugitive with her, fleeing to Catalina Island and hiding out there. Veronica had never said it to Chuck – would never say it to him – but she had felt betrayed when he had done that.

She understood, though. In fact, she realized there was a pretty powerful parallel to the idiotic stunt she had pulled with helping Duncan flee the country there, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Veronica had watched in silence as Chuck and Sarah had checked into the Elizabeth Street Inn. She had remained silent as Casey pulled back out of the parking lot, went around the block, and came back to the Shilo Inn, down the street. He went into the office, and did his usual job of “negotiating” – in other words, pulling out his NSA card and threatening the manager with the words “national” and “security”. When he came back out, he reported proudly that he had obtained a room with a direct line of sight to the window of Chuck and Sarah’s room.

“Oh, joy!” Veronica had remarked sarcastically. “So that means we can have not only audio, but we can get a high definition video feed as well!”

“You would be into that kind of thing, wouldn’t you?” Casey replied with a smirk.

Chuck and Sarah hadn’t stayed at the hotel very long, though. They had left on foot, walking up the beach. That made it a little difficult to track them. Casey had to drive slowly up residential streets, with Veronica in the back seat, using one of her telephoto lenses on her camera to keep track of them.

Occasionally, they would disappear behind a beachfront property, but come back into view a moment later. Veronica actually was pretty impressed with the fact that Casey was able to mostly keep them in sight and re-find them every time they disappeared.

At one point, though, they turned and walked almost directly toward the Crown Vic. Casey quickly drove up the street and turned into a driveway. As Veronica watched from her crouched-down position in the back seat, Chuck and Sarah strolled leisurely down Twenty-First Street back toward the Pacific Coast Highway.

When they reached the PCH, the pair turned left and headed north again. Casey followed very slowly, leaving at least a block between the Crown Vic and their quarry. A moment later, though, they turned and entered a strip shopping center. Casey accelerated, and pulled into the parking lot.

He pulled in just in time for Veronica to watch as they entered a shop called Diamonds By the Sea. Her breath caught in her throat. It felt like a rock had settled in her stomach.

Casey looked in the rear view mirror and caught the expression on her face. “It’s called jealousy, Mars,” he remarked casually – and rather callously, she felt. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Thanks a lot, Casey.”

---

“They don’t have a clue,” Chuck whispered, almost giggling. “Although, I do have to give them credit for keeping track of us while we were on the beach. I didn’t even notice them until we crossed that first street by the ocean.”

“Wait, you saw them then?” Sarah asked. “Dammit, I’m slipping. Where were they?”

“Parked in a driveway five houses up the street. I only saw them because I was actively looking for them,” he admitted.

Sarah gave him a look. “You’re supposed to be enjoying your time with me, not keeping an eye out for Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Ex-Girlfriend.”

Chuck was about to say something in response, but he was interrupted by the jeweler – a guy in his sixties, with long hair, who looked like he had smoked his share of pot back in the 1960s – his share, and his brother’s share, and his mother’s share.

“Greetings, folks!” he said in a voice that made him sound like he was perpetually stoned. “What can I do for you this fine afternoon?”

“Well,” Chuck said, a smile appearing on his face, “we are actually in need of an engagement ring.”

“Whoa!” the guy said. “Congratulations!”

“Don’t congratulate too quickly,” Sarah said cheekily. “He hasn’t actually asked me yet.”

The stoner jeweler turned to Chuck, a look of shock on his face. “Dude!” he objected. “Are you nuts? You gotta ask the lady!”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Oh, but she wants it to be PERFECT,” he replied. “On the beach, under the moon, big rock – all that.”

“Well, full moon this week, dude.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” Chuck said irritably. “I was actually hoping you could help us out with the ‘big rock’ part of that.”

“Right on, dude. What were you thinking? Diamond? Birthstone? Something crazy?”

“I was actually thinking a little bit of all three,” Sarah said. Chuck looked over at her, and it seemed as if he had a big WTF? written across his forehead. “What?” she said. “I’m the one who’s going to be wearing it for the rest of my life.”

And with that statement, Chuck smiled and softened a little. “Okay,” he replied. “So, what do you think?”

“Well, what’s the birth month?” the jeweler asked.

“June,” Sarah replied.

“Oh, man, alexandrite, sweet. Okay, let me see what I got. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he left the room, Sarah turned to Chuck, a barely concealed smirk on her face. “How much pot do you think he’s smoked in his lifetime?”

Chuck smiled back. “Probably enough to make Snoop Dogg and Willie Nelson look like amateurs.”

Sarah shook her head. “I could never see the appeal,” she said. “All the people I knew who smoked it just ended up strung out and paranoid.”

“Hey, it’s not THAT bad,” Chuck replied, speaking before thinking. “It can actually be a little relax…ing…”

Sarah’s eyes had narrowed, and she was giving him a look that made Chuck a little uncomfortable. “So you’ve tried it, then?”

Chuck shrugged. “What can I say – I did go to college just down the road from San Francisco.” Then a thought occurred to him. “It was Bryce’s fault, anyway.”

Sarah’s eyes went wide in astonishment. “NO,” she said incredulously. “Are you telling me that straight-laced, upper-crust New Englander Bryce Larkin smoked the wacky weed?”

“WAY more than I ever did,” Chuck replied, a smile creeping back onto his lips. “Our sophomore year, he was a gigantic pothead.”

“Nothin’ at ALL wrong with that, bro,” the jeweler interrupted, coming out of the back. “Calms the nerves.”

He set a blue velvet box on the counter in front of him. “Take a look, folks.”

Chuck picked up the box and opened it. “WOW,” he breathed, taking the ring in.

Sarah looked. “Oh my goodness.”

The centerpiece of the ring was a one carat diamond. It was surrounded by one-quarter carat alexandrite stones on either side, with a one-tenth carat sapphire and a one-tenth carat emerald both above the stone and below it. The setting was unique – it was a dual band sort of setup. The interior band was made of 14-karat gold, and the exterior band was two very narrow strips of platinum, with a strip of mother-of-pearl running between them.

Sarah’s face looked like that of a five year-old on Christmas morning. “This ring is unbelievable,” she whispered.

Chuck grinned. “Is that what you want?”

“Oh yeah,” she said softly.

“Well, let’s see how it fits, get it sized,” the jeweler said. He took the box back and removed the ring. Sarah held out her hand, and the jeweler was about to slide the ring on, when he stopped and turned to Chuck. “You want to do the honors, bro? You know, get a little practice in?”

---

Veronica’s face had turned to stone as she watched through the telescopic lens. She could see the huge smiles on both Chuck and Sarah’s faces as he slid the ring onto her hand, and then took it back off and handed it to the jeweler.

“Let’s go, Casey,” she said in a wooden voice. “They’ll be fine. It’s not like they’re going anywhere without the Porsche.”

Casey was going to say something, but when he turned and saw her face, he decided it would be in his best interests to keep quiet. Starting up the Crown Vic, he put it in gear and pulled away.

---

“No sizing needed at all, bro,” the jeweler said in astonishment. “It’s like it was made for her!”

Chuck smiled – and then sighed. Time to ask the big question.

“How much is the damage gonna be on this?”

The jeweler looked at him, then at Sarah, then at the ring. Stepping back behind the counter, he pulled out a calculator. “Um… let’s see… ring… no sizing… tax… eighteen thousand, six hundred thirty-two dollars and forty-one cents.”

“Holy Christ,” Chuck gasped.

“Come on, I’m worth it, and you know it,” Sarah teased him.

“That is SO more than two months pay for me,” Chuck grumbled.

“Yes, but you’re a highly successful video game designer on the side, remember?” Sarah said sweetly.

“Guess I better get to writing a new one then.”

The jeweler’s eyes went wide, as his pot-baked brain finally came to a realization. “Oh, dude, I KNEW I recognized you!” he said. “You’re the guy who wrote that game about the guy with the database in his head!”

Chuck smiled. “Guilty as charged,” he said, reaching in his pocket to withdraw his wallet.

As he pulled out his American Express, the jeweler looked at Sarah. “And that must make you the chick who jumped off the bridge!”

“Yeah,” Sarah replied slowly. “Not my finest moment.”

“What are you talking about?!” the jeweler exclaimed as he took Chuck’s credit card. “That was HARDCORE! And then you showed back up, and then you guys got all the charges dropped – that was unbelievable! They ought to make a movie about it!”

Chuck laughed as he took his credit card back and was handed the box. “Believe me when I say, that’s pretty much the last thing we want.”

Ten minutes later, as they were walking back toward the hotel, Sarah asked, “You’re not going to keep that thing on you, are you?”

“Uh, yeah!” Chuck replied. “I’m not giving it to you till I’m good and ready.”

Sarah laughed and shook her head. “Just trying to be helpful, since the last time you had a ring in your custody, it went missing in a gigantic fish.”

“Yeah well,” Chuck shot back, “there’s no Morgan around to steal it from me, and no Fulcrum around to taunt me with it. Is there?”

“God, I hope not,” Sarah breathed. “Although I’m not sure which I’d be more worried about showing up!”