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New Rules

Summary:

Sarah receives a coded SOS from her dad when a con goes wrong in Miami. Sarah, Chuck, and Casey head down to Florida and meet up with some old friends and collide with some new ones. When the game is flipped, everyone must work together to take down something even bigger.

Notes:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect, are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is unbeta-ed so please forgive any mistakes. I also don't have a full idea of where this is going so updates may be slow. The timeline(s) are as followed:

Chuck: Post "Chuck vs The Pink Slip" (Season 3, Episode 1) Team Bartowski may be working together again but Sarah and Chuck are on the outs after Chuck broke her heart when he chose to become a spy and not leave the life with her.

Burn Notice: Post "Old Friends" (Season 1, Episode 4) Michael is still trying to find out why he's been blacklisted. He also just had a brush with an assassin and was left injured. He's discovered that someone wanted him burned but NOT dead. He, Sam, and Fi are starting to find their way as a team.

Leverage: Post Series (Season 5, Episode 15) Leverage International, headed by Parker, is working like a machine. Nate and Sophie are off living their happily ever after.

Chapter Text

 

 

She was being watched. Awareness prickled across the back of her neck, set her spine a little straighter which she quickly disguised as languid stretch. Behind the aviator lenses of her sunglasses, Sarah Walker studied the crowd that passed along the street. Settling back against the café patio chair, she played the role of carefree vacationer as she took a sip from her flute glass. It was straight orange juice but at this hour, it looked identical to all the other mimosas that rested on nearby tables. Her movements, as well as she camouflaged them, didn’t fail to catch her companion’s notice.

 

            “You okay, Sarah?” Chuck Bartowski asked as he swallowed a bite of huevos rancheros. 

 

            She gave him a tight smile that she hoped looked more natural than it felt. “I think we’re being watched.” 

 

            Dark brows rose up his forehead but he continued eating. “Found any suspects yet?” 

           

            With a slow exhale, she shook her head. “No, not yet.” Sarah picked up her fork and speared a piece of pineapple from the small bowl of mixed fruit that was on the other side of her plate. 

 

Tart and sweet exploded on her tongue as she popped it into her mouth, the citrus juice coating her throat. Chuck paused from inhaling his eggs and picked up his coffee. As he took a sip, she watched his dark eyes flick around. He still wasn’t as smooth as her when it came to surveillance but he was getting better. When he lowered his mug, his hand froze in mid-air. His eyes became unfocused, expression slack. Her heartbeat ticked up in her chest, he was having a flash. The mug suddenly began moving again and he cleared his throat, the moment over as quick as it began. 

 

            “There’s a man coming up on the street behind you.” Chuck said carefully, keeping his voice low, “He’s former CIA, currently burned. His name is Mi--”

 

            “Michael Westen.” She finished for him, setting down her fork, any trace of her appetite vanishing. 

 

            Chuck blinked in surprise. After a beat, he asked: “Is he a friend or foe?” 

 

            “Last time I saw him?” Sarah tried not to go down memory lane too deep; it was all before he was burned, “Friend.”

 

Chuck’s gaze flicked up as a shadow fell over her. Sarah looked up at Michael Westen’s face. Like her, mirror lensed sunglasses obscured the blue eyes behind them. The corners of his mouth were quirked upward, in what could be considered a smile. With Michael, she knew him well enough to know the look was a mask. The uncertainty of what was behind the facade worried her. He had been an excellent spy, just like Bryce had been. And they burnt him. She had tried to ask questions but was met with stony silences and a firm promise of digging for those answers would lead to the same fate. 

 

            “Sarah Walker. What brings you to Miami?”  He greeted her, his question friendly but his tone was tight.

 

            “Family.” She matched his tone, “Visiting my father.” 

 

Michael’s brow arched. He knew the man her father was; their backgrounds similar enough to draw an instant bond between them. A kinship that she had counted on before. But was that bridge burnt like his status? 

 

            “Who’s your friend?” Michael inclined his head towards Chuck.

 

            “Michael Weston, meet Charles Carmichael,” Sarah explained by way of introduction, deciding to keep her and Chuck’s cover even here, “My boyfriend.” 

 

Chuck extended his hand and Michael took it. The shake was almost friendly. Almost. Sarah could see that Michael squeezed Chuck’s hand with enough force to blanch the side of his palm.

 

            “Lucky man.” Michael replied briskly, his voice devoid of any actual emotion, “I’m on my way to a business meeting but we should catch up.” 

 

            Sarah nodded. “I’d like that.” 

 

            “Enjoy your breakfast.” Michael said, shifting his weight as he moved, “I’ll talk to you later. It was nice meeting you, Charles.”

 

            “Likewise.” Chuck’s voice held a touch of hesitation.

 

With another ghost of a smile, one that struck her as more genuine than his first, Michael was off. Sarah watched him as he strolled down the street and rounded the corner, out of her sight. Before she realized what she was doing, she was on her feet. She tossed her napkin onto the metal table and touched Chuck’s shoulder.

 

           “Call Casey and have him pick you up.” She instructed him.

 

           “No, I’m going with you. Sarah, he’s been burned. The files on him mark him as a highly dangerous threat. I’m not letting you go after him alone.”

 

Her heart twisted, his concern ripping at the seams of the pocket she had tucked her feelings for him. God, how he had hurt her; there were times it still burned as raw as it had that day on the train platform in Prague. She swallowed, shaking her head. Keep your emotions to yourself. She had told him. They have no place here. She reminded herself. 

 

          “Don’t worry about me, Chuck.” She told him, “Michael won’t hurt me.”

 

         “Are you sure of that?” Chuck demanded quietly, “I’m not willing to risk it.”

 

Even with her instructions, she knew Chuck would just follow after her. He was terrible at staying still; still wanting to rush head first into things with his heart as his guide, not his head. At least his training hadn’t quashed the one thing that made her fall for him. She growled softly under her breath. 

 

         “Fine. But let’s go.” She replied, “If the Intersect gave you his history, you know just how good he is at---”

 

        “Everything?” Chuck interjected as he tossed some money down on the table.

 

       “Losing a tail.” Sarah led the way through the restaurant and out the front door, “But yes, everything is also accurate.” 

 

She slid her arm through Chuck’s, in keeping with their cover, and followed in the direction Michael had departed. By the time they rounded the corner, he was gone. Sarah swore quietly.  The breeze blew, ruffling the skirt of her sundress and the curling ends of Chuck’s increasingly wild hair. The Miami humidity was not kind to those shaggy curls.

 

As they idly walked, she felt that presence again. Her body went on alert and she quickly scanned around her, searching for Michael’s familiar frame. She didn’t find him but the adrenaline didn’t fade. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man with a fedora push off a wall across the street and move into the crowd around him.  The hat was pulled low, angled so obscured his face from her view. However, there was something in the way he moved that made her body want to chase after him and wrap herself around him.

 

Instead of moving, she froze. What the hell was wrong with her? Beside her, Chuck came to a halt when his arm pulled hers, their bodies thrown off their sync. 

 

           “Sarah? What is it?” 

 

She opened her mouth and choked on her words. Bryce! His name was on her tongue, made her instinctively want to cry out when he was completely gone from her sight. Not again. Her heart seized, squeezing tight, overriding everything else. Don’t you dare touch him! That was the last thing she had said before they took him away. Her vision clouded, tears stinging her eyes. Lungs worked to pull in a shaky breath. 

 

           “Sarah?!” Chuck’s voice was alarmed now but it sounded far away. 

 

She couldn’t be seeing him. Bryce Larkin was dead, killed by an operative of The Ring. But the grief. The grief still bubbled up at odd moments over the last six months. This was just one of them. Probably brought on by the stress of seeing Michael again. Breathing came easier this time as the logical explanation filtered through her thoughts. Chuck was searching her face, worry drawing his handsome face into furrowed brows and frown lines. 

 

           “I’m fine, Chuck.” Her voice was calm.

 

           “What did you see? Another friend? Foe?” 

 

           “Just a ghost.” She murmured.