An: Hey, wasn't that season 2 finale for Chuck just Awesome? Are you not able to wait until season 3 begins in the fall to know what the hell the deal is with Chuck knowing Kung Fu? Well here is your pysuedo answer! I don't own Chuck, that's NBC...if they renew it! But I do own my imaginative mind and my OC character, Agent Samantha Wesson. Oh, and just to warn everyone reading this, this is a future season 3 fic. As in Chuck and Sarah are already together....yay! its set one week after the wedding btw. Also, I will update Chuck vs the Out of Body Experience this weekend, I promise.

Chapter One: The Eye of the Tiger

One Week Later...

He never thought that this was the way it was going to end. Out of all the possible scenarios that had gone through his head over these past two years, he was positive that something so pathetic wouldn't resort to his untimely demise. Closing his eyes in effort to abate the growing pain, he trudged on further into his certain death. Please, just let this end—

"Oh come on, Bro!" Devon called out encouragingly, "We're almost half way there and you're doing awesome!"

"Awesome?" Chuck heaved in a breath. It felt like sucking in fire. "Devon let me tell what is awesome…" Grinding his teeth together, he urged his feet to keep on moving. "Sitting down on my comfy bed, eating some Sizzling Shrimp and playing Call of Duty. That---that is awesome. N-not this, this is torture."

Devon, who was jogging at a faster pace than Chuck, slowed down so that his brother-in-law could catch up to him.

Once they were side by side, Devon smiled, "Listen Chuck, John Casey deliberately told me to help you get into shape. He said something about you needing all the energy you can get on missions now, and I told him that'd I help." With a burst of energy, he slapped Chuck on the back enthusiastically, "So buckle down, man, and feel the burn!" He exclaimed happily.

Chuck groaned when Awesome delivered a very enthused pat on the back. "I feel more than a burn…" He mumbled sourly under his breath.

Suddenly the honk of a horn threw the younger man into the air with a start. Nerves standing on end, Chuck alertly swiveled his head from Devon, (who had now passed him once more with ease) to the road he was jogging adjacent to. A shiny and sleek looking Crown Victoria purred softly beside him. Raising an eyebrow, Chuck watched the driver's window roll down.

"I could hear your pathetic whining all the way on the 5 freeway, numb nuts."

A billow of smoke blew out of the interior of the car and into Chuck's irritated face. Sniveling weakly, Chuck hacked away at the diluted cigar smoke.

"I thought you said that smoking was hazardous to your health?" Chuck coughed, covering his mouth with his arm.

The man inside the car took a long drag of his expensive cigar and then inspected it with great care. "It's different, Bartowski. These are victory cigars…"

"V-victory cigars?" Chuck repeated, his eyes watered from the smoke.

"Yup, I got them as a gift for being promoted to Colonel."

"From who?"

Casey flashed a big grin, "From me to me!"

Chuck rolled his eyes, "How thoughtful."

Abruptly, the Vic revved her engine and left Chuck in the dust. Not before he heard the roar of the pistons pumping away did Casey yell, "You have four more miles left until you reach your destination. Don't you dare stop!"

When the Vic was out of sight, Chuck cursed out loud. This was unbearable! First off, Devon woke him up at five in the morning, and fed him some disgusting concoction of raw eggs and god knows what else. He almost threw up, in fact, (Chuck scrunched up his nose in foul recollection) he did. After the first mile.

"T-this is just all shades of wrong…"

Once he managed to overcome the small incline, Chuck sucked in a breath of cold morning air. The sun had risen from its depths from behind the Foothill Mountains. Shielding his eyes with one arm, Chuck prayed that somehow, the new Intersect in his brain would activate and do the work for him. Pumping his arms erratically, he continued his slow jog down the side walk, keeping a wary eye on Devon, who was merely a speck in front of him.

"Come on, stupid Intersect!" Chuck chastised the computer, "Flash! That's all I'm asking for, just flash!!!"

His anger quickly dissipated once he found his second wind. The adrenaline kicked in and Chuck sped down the hill like he had caught on fire. Each breath he took became lighter and less labored; he scrutinized the way Devon ran, his form and pure determination. Before he had a chance to react, something clicked in his brain and multiple images imprinted themselves in his subconscious. Lacking any control, the odd sensation returned and took over Chuck's body. At once, his legs started to move quicker. His knees rose in perfect intervals while his arms propelled him faster and faster until he caught up to Devon.

Casting an impressed, if not, shocked expression, over his shoulder, Devon watched as his wife's brother blew through the last quarter mile like it was nothing. Chuck was approaching him rapidly, and before he knew it, Chuck had passed him without a second glance.

"Hey, Chuck!" Devon yelled breathlessly, "Way to go man!" He pumped his fist into the air in a triumphant gesture.

Chuck kept his head down while his jog progressively turned into a sprint. Focusing on completing his sole mission, Chuck let nothing disturb his trance. It was weird though, the oddest sensation he had ever felt in his life. The way the Intersect possessed him like a puppet master to its marionette. Of course, he could still think clearly, he still remained in complete control of his brain. The only difference was that it felt like unbreakable mental strings were attached to his arms and legs, dictating him and telling him—no making him do whatever was updated into his brain.

Now with this unlimited power at his disposal, Chuck jetted down the streets of Burbank like a gold medalist at the Olympics. Grinding his teeth together once he could feel the effects of the Intersect lessening, Chuck's sprint slowed into a steady jog and then declined to a slow walk and finally he stopped.

Doubling over, but somehow still managing to stay on his feet, Chuck held his chest and gasped for air. He panted for the whole five minutes it took Devon to catch up to him. Feeling beads of sweat drip down his face and neck, Chuck let this moment of solace be the time that he would recuperate from the energy stolen by the Intersect's flash.

Even Devon stopped and breathed labored breaths. He unslung the backpack that he had on his shoulders and pulled out two bottles of water and a set of towels.

"Chuck, here's some H20 bro!"

Chuck's manipulated reactions allowed him to catch the drink thrown at him. Thankful that Devon came prepared; Chuck opened the bottle of water and downed the drink in a matter of gulps.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, there Chuck!" Devon yelled at him concerned, "Slow down there buddy, you're going to drown yourself if you don't drink it slow."

Chuck went from chugging the water to taking precarious sips until ever last drop was gone. As the cool fluid slid down his inflamed throat, the young man grabbed the offered towel by Devon and dried his face off from all of the excess sweat. Once he deemed himself dry, he limped over to any empty dirt patch and rung out the sweat that acclimated in the towel.

Chuck's mouth curved in disgust, "That's not right."

A light pat on the shoulder shook Chuck from is meaningless task. He turned around and saw Devon, who looked as though he could run another eight miles, and he pointed just ahead of the both of them.

"We made it, Chuck!"

Sighing a breath of relief, Chuck glanced up to see where all of the running had them end up. He squinted to read the large sign that hung up in patriotic-colored block letters on the front of the building.

"Fitness USA?" Chuck read out loud in horror.

"Yep," Devon nodded and then pushed a much unmotivated brother-in-law to the entrance.

When Chuck and Devon entered the gym, the two looked around the modern training center, one in awe, the other in dread. Tossing a towel over his shoulder, Devon gravitated towards the front desk with a handsome smile plastered to his face.

"Excuse me, but my friend and I are supposed to have an appointment here today?"

Sitting cross-legged on a swivel chair, a woman held the newest People Magazine in her hands, obscuring her face from behind the open pages. Bobbing her head to the distracting music which blared out of her headphones, she ignored Devon's calm demeanor. Arching an eyebrow, and sending Chuck a questioning glance (Chuck just shrugged his shoulders helplessly) Devon impatiently grabbed a hold of the magazine and lifted it away from the woman's reach.

A pair of fog colored eyes glared unappreciatively at him. The woman was in her late 20's or early 30's, with brown hair put up in a messy bun; she yanked out her ear buds and turned her I-pod off with great distain.


Taken aback at her rude tone, Devon straightened up his back and confidently asked, "Hi, I'm Devon Woodcomb and this is my friend, Chuck Bartowski. We are supposed to have a training session here today."

Completely disregarding what Devon had said, the woman's eyes darted to Chuck. Her mouth curved into a small smirk and she handed him a clipboard with a registration form attached to it.

"You must be Agent Charles Carmichael right?" She asked while tossing him a pen.

Chuck fumbled with catching the pen. He began to fill out the form while stealing a startled glance at the receptionist. "Y-you know me?"

"Of course I do, the whole CIA knows who you are, Charlie."

"You're CIA?!" Chuck and Devon exclaimed in unison. Thank god that the gym seemed to be unoccupied.

"Not really what you'd call "CIA," but yeah, it's the gist of it." She told him and then rose from her chair and reached over the counter to shake hands with him. "Agent Samantha Wesson: Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

Chuck nodded and shook her hand. Making eye contact with her once more, the familiar hypnotic awareness that he had grown accustomed to for the better part of the last couple of years had returned with a vengeance. It was the first "data flash" that the Intersect had retrieved since its re-upload into its new vessel. A stream of high resolution images passed before Chuck's eyes and downloaded them in his brain. One interesting piece of information that he caught early in the flash was that the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division can be used as an acronym as SHIELD; it was a specialized branch of the CIA created primarily to battle the Ring and its underlings. Fulcrum's name appeared along with something called HYDRA and Starkwood. Nothing else could be identified in the flash, so Chuck mentally broke his concentration from the Intersect's hold on him. Vision still blurry with the classified documents burned onto his retinas, Chuck shook his head and everything returned to normal.

Agent Wesson cocked her head to the side and stared at Chuck with honest interest. Devon stood next to him, a confused frown placed on his lips.

"Oh, I probably just freaked you out with that long as hell name didn't I, Charlie?" She asked sweetly, almost like she was covering his flash from Devon's knowledge. She let go of his hand and hopped over the desk, "Sorry about that," She laughed, "I keep forgetting that we are using the acronym now. It's just called SHIELD, and since I'm technically not on the clock right now, you can just call me Sam."

Unable to think of anything to say, Chuck nodded again. For some reason, he couldn't figure out how to interrupt her constant rambling. And when the effects of the Intersect began to fade from his mind, Chuck wordlessly went back to filling out the informational sheet.

"So, I can only assume that you don't work for the government?" Sam interrogated Devon out of the blue.

Caught off guard, Captain Awesome felt the abnormality of the conversation and tried to retreat from where it was headed, "Well, not exactly." He coughed a bit and looked the other way, "I'm more or less a confident for Chuck here."

"Aw, don't be so stingy!" Said Sam playfully, "I'm only just kidding. I don't care if you're CIA, M16, or Al Qaeda…." She stopped in midsentence and corrected herself, "I retract my last statement. I don't approve of terrorists."

Chuck listened to the conversation even though his mind was more focused on completing the paper before him; Agent Wesson was a scary individual. Kind of off, maybe batty even. Chuck snorted while he signed his name and dated the bottom of the page.

"Hey, uh, Sammy?" Chuck signaled that he was done and handed the clipboard back to her.

Ripping the clipboard from Chuck's open hands, Sam sent him a chilling stare; the look of death. "Thanks, and don't you ever call me Sammy."

Chuck held his hands up in surrender, "Ok, sorry! My bad!"

After his apology, her cold eyes lightened up immediately. She dropped the clipboard onto the empty desk and clapped her hands together excitedly. "Awesome, so let's get you going Charlie!"

"Oh, ok, where?"

Sam's smile faded a bit, "….Hold on let me check."

Chuck and Devon both looked at each other and sighed. Spinning around on the desk, the SHIELD agent bent over and pulled out a laminated paper that listed the times of all the classes. She trailed her finger down the list and then found what she was looking for. Casting the list off somewhere, Sam spun back around and faced the two befuddled men.

"You have yoga first, Agent Carmichael," she divulged in her best commanding voice.

"Yoga?" Chuck mused in a surprised tone, "Ok, got it. Where do I go?"

Using her thumb to signal the direction, Sam pointed just down the hall, "Go down there, it's to your right; room 024. Have fun."

Chuck nodded and flipped the towel over his shoulder and walked down the carpeted hall. He took one more step before looking over his shoulder and seeing Devon lagging behind. Furrowing his eyebrows in perplexity, Chuck called to him, "Devon, aren't you coming?"

Rocking on his heels, Devon shook his head, "Sorry Chuck, this is where we part, man. I gotta get back to your sister like now. She doesn't know that I left with you this morning and I don't want to attract any unnecessary attention."

Chuck now understood why he was being left alone, and so he just nodded in silent affirmation, "See ya, Devon."

Devon waved goodbye and then gave him the thumbs up, "Kick some ass, bro! Don't let the yoga instructor give you a hard time, ok?"

"I'll be sure not to," Chuck laughed and watched his brother-in-law exit the gym.

Turning around, he walked down the gym's hallway until he came across room 024. Taking a deep breath, Chuck opened the door and stepped inside.

The inside of the yoga room was empty. Chuck half-heartedly walked to the center and surveyed the room's interior. It was a fairly small room. Just large enough for a class of about ten at most. Two black mats were lying on the floor, both facing each other. Surrounding the outskirts of the room was a trail of unlit stress reliever candles. Setting his towel down on what he could only guess was his mat, Chuck waited anxiously for his instructor.

Suddenly, the backdoor of the classroom creaked open. Chuck's ears perked up and he angled his head to see who was coming to teach him the art of relaxation. Please not a guy, please not a guy!

A pair of deep blue eyes jeered happily once they found Chuck standing at the center of the room. Putting her hair up in a high ponytail, his trainer ambled through the room gracefully. Smiling beautifully, she tapped lightly on the spy's shoulder and waited for him to discern her identity.


Elated brown eyes grew larger once he identified the striking woman in front of him. His nervous smile spread into a stunning grin; he reached for her hand and rubbed it slowly.

"Sarah?" He said in a wondrous tone, "You're my yoga instructor?"

Winking at him seductively, Sarah Walker pulled her hand away from Chuck's. She pecked her boyfriend once on the cheek and then backed away.

"You got a problem with that, Bartowski?" She asked with an eyebrow raised. "If you want, I can always go get Casey to teach you about your calm center?"

"Yeah, that's funny. I think I rather live to see another day, but that's just me," Chuck laughed and playfully strutted forward and took a hold of Sarah around her slim waist. He spun her around until her back was pressed firmly against his front. "Besides, that would mean I couldn't practice switching positions with you…I was really excited actually about testing my flexibility with you too."

Even though he couldn't see her face, Chuck knew he got Sarah to blush madly. He nuzzled her neck and planted a loving nip on her jaw line. Sarah closed her eyes momentarily, resisting the urge to tackle Chuck to the ground and violently strip him down to nothing. Placing her hand on Chuck's cheek, Sarah noticed that he hadn't been shaving for the past several days. She caressed his face and let the prickling facial hair run through her fingers. Chuck's arms tightened around her hips as she touched him softly. She could hear him sigh happily and then bury his head in her shoulder. Sarah giggled at the tickling sensation of his scruff grazing against his bare skin.

"Chuck, I think we have to start class now."

Still burying his head in the nape of her neck, Chuck shook his head rapidly. Then he let out a muffled, "No."

Using her spy moves to her advantage, Sarah easily broke out of Chuck's weakened hold. Her face was still red from their intimacy from before, and Chuck noticed. His face lit up in the old Bartowski grin, his eyes glinted defiantly.

"You're acting like a child, Chuck. Just go to your mat and calm yourself before I decide to really go get Casey instead."

"You're such a buzz kill Sarah," he whined and stuck out his tongue immaturely. Shuffling his feet over to where his mat lay, Chuck dropped to the ground and gave her a Now-you're-the-one-wasting-time glance.

"Treading on thin ice, Bartowski," Sarah warned her partner.

Chuck rolled his eyes and yanked off both of his Chuck converse shoes. He watched the female spy glide across the circumference of the room, holding a lit match in her petite fingers. She then began to light each purple candle until the entire room smelt of lavender. Twirling the remains of the burnt down match between her fingers, Sarah blew out the dying flame.

"So," Chuck interrupted the momentary silence, "what's the deal with Fitness USA? It's pretty obvious that it's run by the CIA or NSA."

Tossing the match into a wastebasket by the entrance of the room, Sarah put her hands on her hip and sighed. "The Orange Orange was compromised when that Ring agent infiltrated it last week. That meant that the Castle had to be relocated and since you got re-Intersected, the General decided to move it to a place of her choosing. It made things easier since you and Casey quit the Buy More."

"You work here then?"

Sarah casted Chuck a small smile before she sat crissed-crossed on the black mat opposite of him. The two spies assessed each other for a second or two without a word. Sarah then brushed away a stray bang that fell onto her forehead.

"As my cover and new assignment, yes I do work here."

"I get the cover part. I gotta say though, good job hunting Miss Walker," Chuck said cheekily. "But what is the new assignment? Beckman doesn't know about my new upgrade does she?"

"Oh no of course not, Chuck." Sarah quelled his fears with a wave of her hand, "Beckman actually thinks that since you want to be an analyst for the CIA (with or without the Intersect), you need the standard training. Thankfully, Casey and I figured out how we could use her obliviousness to our advantage. Because the new Intersect takes a larger toll on your body than the original one did, we've decided to get you in shape so you can take anything that an enemy could dish out in a real conflict."

Realization passed before Chuck's face. He nodded in understanding and stretched his legs out on the mat. "Having Devon get me to run all the way here was the first part of the training, right?"

As Sarah parted her legs in the beginnings of the splits, she raised her head and looked at Chuck like he was crazy, "He made you run from the apartments all the way here?"

"Yes, and Casey made sure that I couldn't stop either…" Chuck grumbled spitefully.

"So you're telling me that you, Charles Irving Bartowski, just ran for eight miles non-stop?"

Chuck scratched the side of his nose nonchalantly, "I guess so…it wasn't so bad."

"That's amazing Chuck!" Sarah practically shouted, her blue eyes sparkled brightly.

"Well truthfully, I can't take all the credit…" Chuck announced rather quietly. Almost shamefully.

Legs full parted, Sarah reached for both feet with her hands. She looked up at him in a perplexed manner, "What do you mean?"

"Toward the end of the run, to put it lightly, I was about to die. Somehow the Intersect knew that I was running low on energy and it made me force a flash. I never felt anything like it before, not even when I Kung Fu'd those Ring spies did I feel like this. It was pure—"Chuck ran his hand through his curly hair once and then stared at his sweat-soaked palm in awe, "Adrenaline. Like my whole body got rejuvenated or something. My arms and legs just started going insanely fast and I even passed Devon in a split second."

Sarah kept her head down, stretching her body out while Chuck relived his newest Intersect adventure. She really didn't know what to make of it. Any of it. To her, it seemed like Chuck was becoming like some superhero that he would read in his comic books. Her mind instantly saw the face of the future Superman, defender of Earth. Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap buildings in a single bound. Look up! In the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane, no, it's---?!

"Chuck, are you sure that everything is ok with the new Intersect?" She asked him uneasily and then rose back into a normal sitting position. "Maybe you should get it examined by your father? He might be able to explain the new updates better than any of us can."

Chuck shook his head, "No way. Didn't you remember what my Dad said after we told him of my little incident? He may have been the one who reconfigured the Intersect's main features and upgraded it, but he wasn't in on what they actually did. For now, all I can do is try and control it." Chuck's self-determination and resolve stunned Sarah. Maybe the Intersect not only affected his body, but his personality also?

"I understand," Sarah agreed and let the conversation go. "Let's give the conversation a rest, ok? Right now, we need to get you focused and ready for your next session."

Spreading out his legs, and groaning a bit when the muscles in his body didn't feel like extending to their fullest extent, Chuck grabbed a hold of Sarah's hands and the both of them stretched each other's legs and arms.

"I have another session?" Chuck asked in pain, "What is it?"

Sarah let go of Chuck's wrists and sat up on her knees. Stretching her arm over her chest, she urged Chuck to do the same. "You are going to spar…..with Casey."

Samantha Wesson went back to her previous position once Agent Carmichael found his way to the yoga room. She turned on her I-pod and placed her headphones back in her ears, tapping away to the beat of the song. Sam reached over and found where she left off on the latest issue of People and started to marvel over the hot actors and actresses; she propped one foot on the desk and hummed away to the next song on her playlist.

"I can still hear the voices singing, I can hear them say~!" She gasped when she hit the high note and barely managed to hold it, "Carry on my wayward son! There will be peace when you are done! Lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more!"

As the second instrumental began to play, the sliding glass doors at the entrance slid open and a new arrival entered the gym. Still highly enthralled with the latest rumors on Lindsay Lohan and if she was gay or straight or maybe even a little bi-curious, Sam ignored the man that was waiting impatiently at the front counter.

"Ahem," The man grunted.

Sam flipped the page, a little disappointed by all of the article's hype but no payoff. When Carry on My Wayward Son ended, a new song enveloped her ears and she started to tonelessly sing with the lyrics.

"I wanna girl with a mind like a diamond…"

Now extremely upset and bent on slapping the receptionist in the face with the damn magazine to get her attention, the man lit up his last cigar and popped into his mouth. It was all he could do before unleashing ever ounce of pent up angry on the woman.

"I wanna girl with a short skirt and a longggggggg, longggggggggggg…….jacket!" She sang and flipped the page again. This time she stopped humming to the song and sniffed the air. Sam's eyes turned into tiny slits and she rolled up the trashy magazine, prepared to beat the living hell out of someone.

Taking a long drag out of the cigar, the man looked down at his watch. It read just after ten in the morning. He needed to change in the locker room quickly if he was going to have a chance to face the nerd in a sparring match.

Once the smoker let out a breath of tobacco induced smoke from his lips, Sam decided to strike. Leaping to the desk, she used the magazine as a weapon and struck the man in the side of the face.

"What the hell?" the man screamed angrily as he was being beat by a wad of paper.

"Don't fucking smoke inside of a public establishment, you hippie! Can't you read the 'don't smoke sign'? Or are you blind too?"

Grabbing the paper in a vice-like grip, the man sat down his burning cigar on the counter and glared at Sam. His hard blue eyes dialed in on her grey ones and she instantly backed down.

"Oh god, you're Colonel John Casey, aren't you?" She asked weakly.

Casey growled and released the SHIELD agent's wrist. She rubbed her sore appendage embarrassedly, "Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker are here correct?"

"Of course, Charlie just ended his first yoga session with Agent Walker about five minutes ago. She is helping him get ready for the sparring match. The uh, locker room is down that hall and to your left. Sorry about attacking you there, I didn't mean to honestly. I just can't stand rude people. Um, not like I'm accusing you of being rude or anything, but well yeah I am. You know smoking can cause cancer? I learned that like in US history….my junior year in high school."

Balling his fist up in irrevocable rage, Casey kept his eyes closed and chose to ignore whatever was spilling out of the receptionist's mouth. She was worst than Bartowski, she doesn't know when to shut up! Finding his calm center, John stomped through the hallway and located the locker room. He swung open the door and prepared himself to fight Chuck Bartowski.

At the center of the ring, Agent Wesson waited for the two spies to come out of the locker room and get to their respective corners. Once she saw Agent Walker come out of the women's locker room, clad in a pair of blue work out shorts and a grey tank top, she knew that Charlie and the Colonel wouldn't be far behind.

"Are they almost ready yet?" Sam asked Sarah, but it came out as a whine.

Sarah sent her an odd look and nodded, "Chuck should be out in a minute, Casey, well he might be praying to the infallible Ronald Reagan right now….so…"

Now it was Sam who returned the confused look. But she knew it was definitely not her place to ask. The two women lingered there in silence until the men entered the arena. The tension in the air became palpable almost at once.

"Do I really need to embarrass myself like this?" Chuck said to no one in particular.

Casey stood beside him and rolled his eyes, "I rather fight Chuck Liddell than Bartowski here. Especially if he's going to be on his period today."

Chuck narrowed his eyes and scoffed, "Good one, Casey, haven't heard that one before."

"Wow, some anger there Chuckles!" Exclaimed Casey as he mockingly feigned surprise, "Maybe you will be able to summon the willpower to not get your ass handed to you?"

Chuck's eyes darkened at Casey's taunts, allowing a growing bubble of anxiety sift throughout his body.

"You two, pipe the fuck down," Sam warned them both, but mostly Casey. "I don't want a fight to break out before we even get you to in the ring. Got it?"

"Got it," Chuck answered in monotone. Casey just grunted as response.

Clasping her hands together, Agent Wesson smiled excitedly, "Okay boys, here's how things are going to go. The two of you will be set in the ring like any other sparring match, and then I blow the whistle and I'll let you go, any questions?"

"Yeah, I have one," Chuck raised his hand.

"This isn't school, moron," Casey smirked under his breath.

"No, it's ok," Sam said and sent Casey a chilling look. Her demeanor changed dramatically. "Charlie, what was your question?"

"Is this like a fight to the death kind of thing, or last man standing?"

"Isn't that like the same thing?" asked Sam confusedly.

"Does it matter?"

"Its first one to cry Uncle aka last man standing I guess." Sam shrugged indifferently. "It's not my job to judge who wins; I'm just supposed to assess the Intersect and its capabilities."

Chuck turned to Sam, his mouth agape, "You know that I'm the Intersect?!"

Sarah put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, "Yes she does. Just trust her, Chuck, I do."

"Fine," Chuck managed to say and then made his way to the arena. "Let's get this over with."

Casey leaned against the ropes of the training ring, fully scrutinizing his adversary. It was hard to do, because by just looking at Chuck Bartowski, you would see he was a weak individual. And that right there was his greatest strength; he was the underdog. Casey cracked his knuckles as soon as Sarah gave Chuck a good luck kiss. He crinkled his nose and then pushed off the rubbery ropes and met Chuck at the center. Agent Wesson stood there, smiling like a bigger idiot than even Bartowski could possibly be.

"So, let's get ready to rumble right?" Sam joked.

"Go away and do your job," Casey ordered in a gruff voice. Chuck just nodded for her to listen to him.

"Yes, Colonel Sir, I understand," She mock saluted and skipped off of the arena platform. Once she was standing beside Sarah in the bleachers, she made a coughing noise and then shouted, "Ding, Ding!!!!!"

Almost at once, Casey delivered the first hit of the fight. Chuck skittishly waited to be attacked; his eyes were watering in fear for his life. Casey put up his fists and threw a short right jab, brandishing the kid in the face. Now with a red cheek, Chuck looked younger than ever. He continued to stand there, taking blow after blow Casey would ream out. After a few minutes, when Chuck was bleeding and a little bruised up, Casey even got a little bored…and tired.

"Come on, Bartowski, fight back! What happened to your superpowers?"

Sighing irately, Casey launched forward for another attack. Maybe a harder punch to the gut would get the kid to react. Staring into Chuck's brown eyes, Casey through the punch, and wished that he might've held up on it. Almost like clockwork, the light in Chuck's eyes dimmed to a controlled dark hue. He had flashed. And in the nick of time too. Before the punch connected with his stomach, Chuck smiled confidently and dashed forward, dodging the punch by an inch or so. Sweeping his leg out in a wide, but graceful arc, Chuck managed to connect with Casey's ankles, throwing the bigger man off balance. Without even realizing what was happening, Casey found himself tossed on to his back, sucking in a deep breath of oxygen; he had the wind knocked out of him. Before the tunnel vision had impaired him, Casey rolled away from Chuck's incoming kick to the ribs.

"He's lucky that Charlie missed him," Sam commented as she took down notes on a pad of paper, "If he didn't get out of the way on that one, he'd have a couple of broken ribs."

For some reason, Chuck lagged back and waited for Casey to stand up and get into a ready position. Casey gave him a pissed look for the pathetic gesture and he let his anger take control of his body. Chuck merely rolled his eyes once he saw the familiar attack come at him. Bringing his leg out to kick the kid in the side of the shin, Casey feigned that he was going for the punch again. Hands behind his back, Chuck politely waited until Casey's foot stabbed at him. With ease, he used his opposite foot to parry Casey's and back and forth the foot fencing commenced.

"He really knows what he's doing. The kid is a strategic genius, and that's definitely not the Intersect's doing."

Sarah took her eyes off the fight for a brief time and stared at the woman next to her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, "Sam bit on the cap of her pen in thought, "that the Intersect supplies Charlie with the force and power to defeat almost anyone. But he has control over his mind, so he can watch and asses each and every one of Colonel Casey's move. Then he adapts to them quicker than any of us could, and uses them against him. Understand, now Agent Walker?"

Sarah nodded and gasped when Chuck parried one last of Casey's foot jabs and then interchanged his other foot that was used as balance to sideswipe Casey back on the floor again. Grimacing, Sarah whispered, "Chuck's just playing with him, isn't he? He has this whole fight planned out like a chess match…or a video game."

Chuck receded again once Casey was down for the count. He let his arms linger by his sides, still unused, deeply angering Casey that he hadn't even bothered to throw a single punch yet.

"He's also combining different techniques when fighting." Sam said and wrote her thoughts down, "He's seen you fight, and now he's fully analyzing the Colonel's moves. Once the Intersect downloads the fighting style, I'm confident that Charlie can learn to assimilate and fight like you, or him, and even incorporate his own style…he'd be invincible that's for sure. But there is one little problem…."

Casey sucked in a deep breath and launched his final assault; a flurry of punches and kicks, spins and not so graceful moves all were targeting his adversary. Seeing that things were going to get a smidgen more difficult, Chuck brought his arms up and blocked the incoming blows to the face. On the defensive, he kept waiting until Casey would give the go-ahead attack. Arching back a strong right leg, Casey delivered a powerful side kick, aimed straight for Chuck's noggin. Grinning like a maniac, Chuck dipped his head, missing Casey's bone crushing kick by inches.

"Sorry, big guy, but you missed me by this much."Chuck teased.

Raising his leg up, Chuck made use of a free hit, and kneed Casey in the stomach. Gasping for breath, he took several steps back from his opponent. Holding his stomach and trying to not to throw up, Casey stood stagnate and hoped that Chuck would come for him. Cocking his head to the side like and innocent child, Chuck stared at Casey with interest. It wasn't the normal Chuck Bartowski look. His back was fully erect; it commanded perfect posture and confidence. His eyes were glittering darkly, thirstier than ever. No, Casey decided, no this wasn't the kid at all. The Intersect was at the helm now.

"What if Chuck tries to kill him?" Sarah shouted to the SHIELD agent with worry.

"Don't bother; no one's going to die. Not unless you want to step in and save your partner." Sam made another annotation on her paper and continued to watch the brawl, and then she added, "Charlie is losing it; his self control I mean. That's his weakness. If he lets the Intersect rule over him, all of those things I told you about his strategy? Gone, out of the window."

Sarah's attention left Sam's half focused ramblings, and returned to the fight. Casey was doing all right again; he and Chuck were back to the same dance that they had played for the majority of the fight. And nothing different was coming from Chuck. Now Sarah could see it; the weakness. Just if Casey could, he could end the fight now.

Then Chuck threw his first punch of the fight. A solid uppercut to the underside of Casey's jaw. It connected and threw the NSA agent up into the air, allowing Chuck reclaim some lost control and to deliver the last assault. It went by so quickly, Sarah and even Sam watched in complete shock. Chuck threw himself on his hands and kicked up his feet in a swift handstand motion. In one fluid attack, he crouched both feet to his chest and then kicked with all his might. The double kick nailed Casey in the lower abdomen, successfully knocking him down for the count. As soon as Casey fell onto his back for that final time, Chuck finished his front hand spring, landing gracefully on his feet, a satisfying smirk on his face.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten!" Sam put down her pen and paper and cheered, "We got ourselves a knock out ladies and gentlemen!"

Jumping off the bleachers, with Sarah in tow, Sam hopped into the arena and inspected the loser's body. She prodded his face with her index finger which had him emit a terribly weak growl. Sarah on the other hand, nervously approached the winner of the fight. Chuck was lost in a hypnotic trance, staring solely at Casey's unmoving body. Like he couldn't believe what he had done.

"Chuck?" Sarah asked timidly.

Chuck blinked and for a moment, Sarah could see a lighter brown filter from behind those foreign eyes.

"Sarah?" asked Chuck exhaustedly.

Sarah heard Chuck call her and she smiled warmly. "Yes, what is it?"

"Catch me when I fall, okay?"

"Catch me when you---?" Sarah repeated confusedly, "What are you talking about?"

Letting his eyes roll in the back of his head, Chuck's knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed to the ground with a loud thud. Sarah and Sam winced.

"Good, fight." Sam said at last and grinned happily in Sarah's direction, "I'll go get the first aid kit, looks like they need it."

End Chapter One

An: Everyone went Kung Fu fighting! Those cats were fast as lightining! Heh, I cant get that song out of my head. Chuck me....

Next Chapter: The Ten Rings