This is once again, another idea I have for a story. It is somewhat AU if Bryce never got Chuck kicked out of Stanford and they both joined the CIA (yea, one of those stories). Chuck and Bryce are still best friends and Jill never happened, because let's face it, she was a bitch. It will obviously be an eventual Chuck/Sarah story because it's either 'Charah or Die.'

/

September 1999

Chuck Bartowski, self-professed nerd, is sitting on a bench as he tries to get all his books in order. He is only a freshman in college at Stanford. He hasn't really made too many friends. His dorm roommate is a chill guy who is easy to like, but has his stipulations and quirks. He likes to listen to loud metallic music, which is fine by Chuck if he didn't have to blast it at all hours of the day. Chuck needs to study for the eighteen units he is taking and that music is very distracting. That is why he is sitting on a bench outside his dorm where it is at least quieter. He looks upon his books as he straightens the stack, his Zork programming book on top.

"Zork?" A male voice jars him from his musing. He looks up to see a classically handsome man with a football in his hand.

"Yea, I'm a bit of an old schooler," Chuck smiles at the man. "I've been trying to create my own programming for it."

"That's cool. I used to play that every night," the man smiles amusedly. "I'm Bryce, by the way."

"Chuck," they both shake hands happily.

"Like Chuck Norris," Bryce smirks at Chuck.

"I guess, except for I'm not quite as badass," Chuck chuckles comically.

"Well, no one is as badass as Chuck Norris," Bryce shrugs jokingly.

"Touché," Chuck muses with an appreciative nod.

"You wanna play some football?"

"I don't think that's the best idea. I'm not exactly the athletic type."

"Oh come on," Bryce rolls his eyes. "You won't know until you try. Your books will be safe here. We're only playing catch. You're not going to be getting tackled or anything."

"You know what?" Chuck says with determination. College is where he can reinvent himself and he's not going to be the introverted guy he was in high school. "I'll make you guys look like all-pro players." He stands up and joins Bryce.

/

August 2000

"This is pretty cool," Bryce muses as he steps into the fraternity house. "I've always wanted to be in a fraternity."

"You do know they make you pay them every semester, right?" Chuck deadpans.

"Dude, come on!" Bryce looks back at him. "This is college. You only graduate from it once!"

"Not if you do a master's program," Chuck chides.

"Same difference," Bryce rolls his eyes. "This is going to be amazing! We're going to be having parties every weekend."

"Sure, sure," Chuck shakes his head in disbelief as they arrive at the fraternity bedroom they are going to be sharing. "Wow, this is much larger than my dorm room," Chuck muses with slight surprise. There are two separate beds on opposite sides of the room. There is a large window that looks over fraternity row, two desks, two closets, and a large rotating fan on the ceiling.

"This is sick!" Bryce exclaims as he jumps on the bed to the right. "I call this one!"

"Sure, why not," Chuck muses as he didn't really have a choice.

"This bed is going to have a different girl in it every week," Bryce grins widely.

"Whatever; just put a tie on the doorknob or something," Chuck shakes his head in disbelief. Bryce is definitely not lacking enthusiasm.

/

January 2002

Bryce Larkin is completely surprised by the offer that was just made to him. He didn't even do anything special. His teacher suddenly asked him about a meeting after doing well on a test, mostly because Chuck helped him study. He is surprised by how smart Chuck is. Chuck is easily the smartest guy he has ever known and could easily be the Bill Gates of the future. Bryce nervously steps into his teacher's office and see's Professor Tony Stark sitting at his desk. That name definitely got him some off-topic questions during class; mostly about how to create a robotic suit and use electromagnetic pulse fields.

The odd thing about this meeting is Bryce's other Professor sitting to the side of the desk' Bryce's subliminal imaging teacher, Professor Fleming. He is nearing his sixties, thin, has balding hair, and wears prescription glasses. "Have a seat, Bryce," Stark says sincerely as he gestures to the single seat on the opposite side of the desk than him.

Bryce takes the seat and looks between the two men. "Bryce, you know Professor Fleming."

Bryce nods curtly.

"We have some questions for you," Stark explains sincerely. "You are in no way, shape, or form, in any trouble at all."

Bryce visibly sighs in relief as he relaxes his shoulders.

"Bryce, the content of this conversation cannot leave this room," Fleming warns seriously. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do," Bryce nods calmly, but his mind is running in complete disarray. He doesn't know what is going on, but he is intrigued to know where the conversation is leading.

"Good," Fleming nods curtly. "What do you know about the CIA?"

"Like the Central Intelligence Agency CIA?" Bryce flinches back in surprise.

"Exactly," Fleming nods seriously.

"Well, not much really," Bryce shrugs as he tries to think of everything he has learned from movies and other multimedia. "I mean I've heard about them having covert spies that protect the nation from foreign threats and that kind of stuff."

"Do you have any interest in becoming a CIA agent?"

"What? Me?" Bryce flinches again. The thought of being like James Bond does run through his head for a brief second. He could have girls, danger, guns, and more girls. He is definitely intrigued.

"Yes, they have taken an interest in you."

"Really?" An amused smile forms on his lips.

"Yes, how would you like to be a CIA field agent?" Fleming can read the mirth on Bryce's face and already knows the answer. "How would you like to be a spy for your government?"

/

October 2002

Bryce is racing through the hallway. The books provide great cover from his enemy. He checks both ways before sliding across the tiles to the other column of bookshelves. "You only have one shot left," he hears his enemy state amusedly. "You shot two times in the thriller section and two more in the romance section."

"I only need one," Bryce retorts as he tries to find the origin of the voice.

Bryce quickly wraps around a bookshelf to the other side to see his enemy crouched down and looking the opposite way. Bryce slows his breathing and lightens his steps as he approaches his enemy. He aims from only two feet away and fires a shot directly into his enemy's back. The dart sticks to his shirt as his enemy sighs in frustration.

"Damn!" Chuck stands tall as he turns to the arrogant smile on Bryce's face. "I had you that time."

"You *thought* you had me," Bryce replies as his smile widens.

"I'm gonna win one of these days," Chuck smiles at his best friend and roommate.

/

January 2003

"Hello?" Bryce answers his cell phone.

"Tell your roommate that you need to take this outside and use those exact words," the ominous voice says quickly.

"What?" Bryce furrows his brow and then he remembers how secretive the CIA is. It must be a type of test. He lowers the phone from his mouth, "hey Chuck, I need to take this outside."

"Sure," Chuck shrugs carelessly as he goes back to working on the final touches on their own created Zork programming.

Bryce walks outside the fraternity house and puts the phone back to his ear. "Who is this?" He asks slightly annoyed.

"Turn right and walk to the end of the block. There will be a bus stop there," the ominous voice instructs. "I want you to sit on the bench for exactly ten minutes when the next bus will arrive. I want you to get on it."

"Why? What is the point in this?" Bryce is starting to get really agitated.

"I will answer all your questions soon, but you must do exactly as I've said."

"Okay," Bryce shrugs as he ends the call and walks to the bus stop.

Exactly ten minutes later, the bus arrives and Bryce steps on. The bus is completely empty except for a single man in the back and the driver. The man gestures Bryce to join him in the back. The man is in a brown trench coat and a large brown Stetson hat that looks very similar to the hat that Indiana Jones wears. Bryce takes a seat next to the man, ready to attack if necessary. He may not have gotten much training, but over summer, they showed him a few basics self-defense techniques.

"I'm glad you could join me," the ominous man states as he removes his hat. He is nearing fifty years old and has slightly erratic hair. He reminds Bryce of his roommate, Chuck for some odd reason. "You can call me Orion."

"Alright, Orion," Bryce says sincerely. "What is the reason for the secretive meeting?"

"Your roommate, Charles Irving Bartowski is going to be asked if he wants to be part of the CIA."

"Really?" Bryce smiles at the thought of him and Chuck being agents together.

"You cannot let that happen."

"What do you mean?" Bryce flinches with surprise.

"Do whatever it takes to shy the CIA away from him. It isn't the life I want for him," he says slightly saddened.

"Why should I care what you want for him?"

"Because…" Orion sighs in resignation. "I'm Stephen Bartowski and Chuck is my son."

"What?" Bryce's eyes widen. "He said you left them when he was only thirteen."

"I did," Stephen sighs sadly. "It was the hardest decision of my life, but I couldn't protect my family. That's why I need you to do this for me. I cannot let Chuck get mixed in with the government."

"I don't know if I could," Bryce answers truthfully. "I can't just ask the government to stop taking interest in him."

"That is why I need you to make it look like he isn't as smart as his grades say. I've already secured a few copies of Fleming's tests. All you have to do is give them to Fleming and tell them you found them under Chuck's bed. This will be sufficient enough to get the CIA to back off." Stephen shows Bryce the tests.

"But cheating is grounds for expulsion," Bryce says defensively. He would be ruining Chuck's college career if he went through with this plan.

"I know," Stephen squeezes his eyes shut. "But Chuck is smart. He will figure out a way to succeed."

"I don't know if I can do that to my best friend. I'm sorry, Stephen, but Chuck has dedicated too much of his life to Stanford for me to take it away from him. I have to rightfully refuse your offer."

"Please Bryce," Stephen looks at him. "Chuck is not built for the spy world. It would change him into a cold school killer. I can't let that happen to my son."

"Then why don't you do it yourself?" Bryce asks incredulously. "He doesn't even know what happened to you or anything. He's sitting in our room right now. You can see him and explain everything to him. He deserves to know why you left and where you've been."

"I can't let Chuck know about me. It would be wrong to try to ask for a favor after what I've done to him," Stephen confesses sadly. He misses his family more than anything, but he cannot even talk to them. It is just too dangerous.

"Then, Chuck will become a spy because I am not going to ruin my friend's life and lose my friendship with him," Bryce says determinedly. "I hope you understand how amazing your son is and that he deserves to make his own choices. And I hope you meet him one day," Bryce states as he walks off the bus at the next stop.

/

February 2003

Chuck is extremely nervous; he has a meeting with his teacher, Professor Fleming. He is nervous because he is scared he is in trouble, but Bryce assured him he isn't. How would Bryce know anything anyways? Chuck lets out a long breath as he steps into Fleming's office. "Chuck," Fleming greets cheerily. "Have a seat."

"Okay," Chuck nods as he sits down across from Fleming.

"You're acing my class. Even the retention section," Fleming says with subtle pride.

"Well, I kind of just guessed a lot and got it right," Chuck shrugs innocently. "I guess I am good at remembering."

"That you are," Fleming nods appreciatively. "That is why I've called you in. You can do a great service to your country."

"What do you mean?" Chuck furrows his brow curiously.

"The CIA has shown interest in you, Chuck. They want to offer you a job."

"The… the CIA?" Chuck stammers in surprise. "Like the Central Intelligence Agency CIA?"

"Exactly," Fleming snorts. "That is exactly what your friend, Bryce, asked."

"Wait! Bryce is an agent?" Chuck leans forward with curiosity.

"Not fully, but he has been recruited. He is set for training the instance he graduates. You could be too, if you want to help preserve this nation."

"Um…" Chuck is completely flabbergasted at the contents of this conversation.

"You could save a lot of lives and will be making a great living. How would you like to be a spy for the CIA?"

/

May 2003

As ninety-nine cardinal red caps soar through the air, Bryce finds his way to his best friend and soon-to-be co-worker, Chuck. "Dude! How does it feel to be a college graduate?" Bryce nudges Chuck happily as the ninety-nine hats crash to the grassy hill the graduating class is perched on. They are both wearing red gowns along with the other graduates who are hugging, kissing, shaking hands, and smiling all around them.

"I feel like I'm in a horrible rendition of a Nena music video," Chuck jokes as all the caps remind him of balloons.

"Oh come on man!" Bryce exclaims happily. "This should be the happiest times of our lives! We already have jobs lined up and we graduated from college! WE GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE!" Bryce grabs both of Chuck's arms and shakes him to make sure Chuck doesn't think he's dreaming.

"I know buddy. It's just too unreal. Soon enough, we're going to be shipped off to Langley," Chuck smiles sadly at him. This is definitely a great day, but he's going to miss his college times.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" Chuck is pulled into a lung-crushing hug that only one person can give, his sister Ellie. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks Sis," Chuck coughs out as he finally feels air coming back to his lungs. Chuck pulls her into a normal, comfortable hug. "This whole thing is just so unreal. I never saw the day coming."

"Awesome bro," Devon, Ellie's boyfriend of forever, claps Chuck on the back. Chuck forgot how many years they've been together. They might as well be married already.

Ellie turns and pulls Bryce into a lung-crushing hug. "Oh Jeez! Ellie! I like girls' breasts against me but seriously!" Bryce chokes out jokingly.

Ellie releases the hug. "You perv," she smiles joyously at him.

"Seriously, your hug is like if the Hulk gave a bunny rabbit a hug," Bryce jokes as air rushes through his lungs to compensate for the lack of oxygen.

"Congratulations," Ellie punches him in the arm playfully.

"Thank you."

"Auh!" Chuck grunts in shock as a koala jumps on him from the side and wraps its legs and arms around him.

"Congrats, dude!" Morgan, the supposed koala, and Chuck's best childhood friend, exclaims as his legs wrap around Chuck's waist and his arms around Chuck's shoulders. Morgan has been Chuck's best friend for years and is the only rival to Bryce for the title of 'Chuck Bartowski's BFF.'

"Down puppy," Chuck jokes as Morgan quickly jumps off of Chuck. "Thanks buddy. I'm glad you were able to make it to Palo Alto today."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" Morgan exclaims happily. Chuck actually believes him. He really would be go this far out of his way just for Chuck.

"I know buddy," Chuck smiles as he pats Morgan on the shoulder.

"I think this calls for a celebration!" Morgan shouts to everyone.

"How about Gino's Bistro?" Chuck asks everyone who just smiles at Chuck. That restaurant is one of the most popular and expensive restaurants but well worth the price as it is the best quality Italian food in northern California.

"Let's get sloppy!" Morgan bellows as he rushes to the car with his hands waving like a madman. Chuck cannot help but break out into laughter. Chuck is definitely going to miss him when they go to Langley. Morgan is like the stone that keeps Chuck from losing himself and reminding Chuck of how awesome it is to be a nerd.

/

June 2003

It's been a week since graduation. Chuck said his goodbyes to Ellie, Devon, and Morgan and now Bryce and Chuck are finally in Langley, Virginia. Obviously, they all believe that they both got a job at an accounting firm in Virginia, but that is just the cover story. The life of an accountant is not glamorous enough for people to want to know how it is, so it is a good cover. The CIA training academy is huge. It spans at least three football fields. It looks like an ordinary college campus with multiple people walking in and out wearing fluffy blue and grey sweatshirts that say 'CIA' on them.

"This is it, buddy. You ready?" Bryce asks Chuck, who is still in awe of the building.

"Yep," Chuck follow him into the main doors. The entrance is magnificent. There are hundreds of people racing through the hallways just like high school. There are multiple hallways that lead to oblivion, which makes it look like it would be easy to get lost. There is an information booth directly in the center of the plaza.

"Let's get ourselves checked in," Bryce happily leads Chuck to the information booth. After figuring out where they are going to be living, they find the dorm room. It is small with a bed on each wall. A desk sits in the five feet behind the beds, giving maybe two feet for the chair to maneuver. "Welcome home," Bryce jokes as he tosses his bag on top of the bed to the right. "This bed is gonna have a different girl in it every week. Just like college."

"Sure," Chuck gives him a knowing look. Chuck knows he's joking and he smiles at Bryce. "Just make sure you put a tie on the doorknob."

"Dude, lighten up. This is so cool. Larkin and Bartowski together again," he says with a cool low pitched voice that is reminiscent of Clint Eastwood.

"Why are you first?" Chuck quips with a playful smile as he places his bag on the bed.

"Because I'm the cooler one," he pats Chuck on the back in a friendly manner as if it is only a fact of life and there is nothing Chuck can do about it.

The first day of class reminds Chuck of college. At least he's not a complete stranger; Bryce has the same schedule as Chuck. Their first class is 'hand-to-hand combat' training. Chuck knows this is not going to be fun. Chuck can already see himself icing his left ass cheek tonight. Good thing he bought some ice packs last night.

There are eighteen other recruits along with Bryce and Chuck. They are all wearing the same grey CIA sweat suit that is regulation. Chuck can already see Bryce's head bobbing as he lists each female recruit on his 'I would do' list. Let's just say that the list contains exactly half the class, which is aptly the entire female population of the class.

"Recruits!" The male instructor booms, causing Chuck to stand at attention with all his peers. "I am Sergeant Walters! I will be teaching the methods of martial arts to all you maggots!" So much for the instructor being nice, Chuck thinks bitterly. "The first thing you must know is you do not know how to fight. Just because Hollywood could choreograph it doesn't mean you can! Forget everything you've seen in movies. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" Everyone chants; startling Chuck. Chuck really needs to pay more attention.

"First, I want you to take a combative stance," Walters spreads his legs to about shoulder width apart and readies himself for attack. Everyone mimics his stance. After everyone gets in as correct of a position as they could, he walks around to survey each person.

He walks along with his hands behind his back as he slowly studies all of the student's stances. He fixes the flaws in each recruit's stance. After a few seconds, Chuck feels Walter's hands against his lower back; forcing Chuck to stand taller. "Good," he muses as he continues onto the next recruit.

By the end of the class, they all learned how to fall into the stance in a blink of an eye. Fortunately, they didn't have to actually fight anyone… yet. After the three hours, everyone was fairly tired and spent. Bryce and Chuck got back to their dorm room. Chuck plops onto his bed face first with a despairing sigh.

"That tired dude?" Bryce jokes as he sits down on his own bed

"Yes," Chuck lazily mumbles into his pillow.

"Did you see some of those girls? They were *so* hot," Bryce drawls as he rolls the 'o' sound.

"Yea, whatever," Chuck says apathetically. That's typical Bryce; thinking only about girls. He isn't quite as tired as Chuck since Bryce already had some training while still in Stanford.

"In an hour we have conditioning to do," Bryce informs Chuck, much to Chuck's dismay. "It'll be fun."

"Ugh," Chuck grunts at Bryce's obviously facetious comment about it being fun.

That hour came way faster than Chuck wanted. Chuck was barely able to get some food in before Bryce dragged Chuck off to their next class. They make it into 'the gym' as it's been nicknamed. It is an indoor arena with a track around the edge and weight lifting equipment in the middle. There is also an area for high jumping. He's not really sure why you would need that, but he could care less. There are hundreds of people occupying the large arena. People are jogging around the track while others are working out.

Chuck scans the area to get a feel for things when his eyes freeze on the most beautiful woman Chuck has ever seen. Her golden blonde hair is messily thrown into a bun. Her face is flawless without any makeup and she has bright blue eyes. Chuck doesn't realize the dumbfounded look on his face as she jogs along the track in her full sweat suit. The beautiful blonde jogs right by them as they step up to the edge of the track.

Bryce lets out a long whistle as they both turn their heads with her movement to stare at her ass. "Damn… I'd definitely do her," Bryce says with a smile. Chuck impulsively narrows his eyes at him in disgust. When did Chuck get so protective over someone he's never met before?

"You'd do anything that has an opening between the legs," Chuck chides as they walk over to the Instructor of the class. Chuck wonders if he'll ever see that blonde beauty again.

"That was not fun. You lied to me," Chuck's face is once again deep into the pillow and his body is lifelessly lying on his bed. Bryce lets out a goodhearted laugh. Bryce has always been the athletic type. Chuck never was. The last time Chuck played sports was seventh grade kickball. He's tall and lanky; not exactly the prime stature for sports. Chuck doesn't have the muscle strength to keep up with everyone.

"You'll get used to it," Bryce says comfortingly. "I used to feel like that."

"You better not be lying to me," Chuck warns through the pillow.

"I'm not. Drink some orange juice. Calcium's good for your muscles," Bryce goes to the small fridge that they stocked last night with orange juice, milk, and hot pockets. "I'll help you get into better shape buddy."

"Yay," Chuck sarcastically cheers with one hand raised as the rest of his body slumps deeper into the bed.

/

How is this so far? This story will be eventual Charah… obviously. I want to put in a lot of pop culture references so if there are any that you want in this story, let me know. I want this to be a long story, so I'm going to need a lot of help and that is what I need from you guys. Your reviews of my previous stories have helped a lot and I know that you guys are withholding super awesome ideas that are just waiting to be put into a story.

Please review with your inputs and thoughts. I could really use them.