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richincolor · 5 years ago

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New Releases this Week

September 2019 is a busy month for YA publishing. We have another great week of releases to look forward to tomorrow (September 10, 2019).

A Match Made in Mehendi by Nandini Pajpai Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Fifteen-year-old Simran “Simi” Sangha comes from a long line of Indian vichole-matchmakers-with a rich history for helping parents find good matches for their grown children. When Simi accidentally sets up her cousin and a soon-to-be lawyer, her family is thrilled that she has the “gift.”

But Simi is an artist, and she doesn’t want to have anything to do with relationships, helicopter parents, and family drama. That is, until she realizes this might be just the thing to improve her and her best friend Noah’s social status. Armed with her family’s ancient guide to finding love, Simi starts a matchmaking service-via an app, of course.

But when she helps connect a wallflower of a girl with the star of the boys’ soccer team, she turns the high school hierarchy topsy-turvy, soon making herself public enemy number one.

His Hideous Heart edited by Dahlia Adler Flatiron Books

Thirteen of YA’s most celebrated names reimagine Edgar Allan Poe’s most surprising, unsettling, and popular tales for a new generation.

Edgar Allan Poe may be a hundred and fifty years beyond this world, but the themes of his beloved works have much in common with modern young adult fiction. Whether the stories are familiar to readers or discovered for the first time, readers will revel in Edgar Allan Poe’s classic tales, and how they’ve been brought to life in 13 unique and unforgettable ways.

Contributors include Kendare Blake (reimagining “Metzengerstein”), Rin Chupeco (“The Murders in the Rue Morge”), Lamar Giles (“The Oval Portrait”), Tessa Gratton (“Annabel Lee”), Tiffany D. Jackson (“The Cask of Amontillado”), Stephanie Kuehn (“The Tell-Tale Heart”), Emily Lloyd-Jones (“The Purloined Letter”), Hillary Monahan (“The Masque of the Red Death”), Marieke Nijkamp (“Hop-Frog”), Caleb Roehrig (“The Pit and the Pendulum”), and Fran Wilde (“The Fall of the House of Usher”).

Pet by Akwaeke Emezi Make Me a World

Pet is here to hunt a monster. Are you brave enough to look?

There are no more monsters anymore, or so the children in the city of Lucille are taught. With doting parents and a best friend named Redemption, Jam has grown up with this lesson all her life. But when she meets Pet, a creature made of horns and colours and claws, who emerges from one of her mother’s paintings and a drop of Jam’s blood, she must reconsider what she’s been told. Pet has come to hunt a monster, and the shadow of something grim lurks in Redemption’s house. Jam must fight not only to protect her best friend, but also to uncover the truth, and the answer to the question-How do you save the world from monsters if no one will admit they exist?

In their riveting and timely young adult debut, acclaimed novelist Akwaeke Emezi asks difficult questions about what choices a young person can make when the adults around them are in denial.

The Magnolia Sword: A Ballad of Mulan by Sherry Thomas Tu Books

CHINA, 484 A.D.

A Warrior in Disguise All her life, Mulan has trained for one purpose: to win the duel that every generation in her family must fight. If she prevails, she can reunite a pair of priceless heirloom swords separated decades earlier, and avenge her father, who was paralyzed in his own duel.

Then a messenger from the Emperor arrives, demanding that all families send one soldier to fight the Rouran invaders in the north. Mulan’s father cannot go. Her brother is just a child. So she ties up her hair, takes up her sword, and joins the army as a man.

A War for a Dynasty Thanks to her martial arts skills, Mulan is chosen for an elite team under the command of the princeling–the royal duke’s son, who is also the handsomest man she’s ever seen. But the princeling has secrets of his own, which explode into Mulan’s life and shake up everything she knows. As they cross the Great Wall to face the enemy beyond, Mulan and the princeling must find a way to unwind their past, unmask a traitor, and uncover the plans for the Rouran invasion . . . before it’s too late.

Inspired by wuxia martial-arts dramas as well as the centuries-old ballad of Mulan, The Magnolia Sword is perfect for fans of Renee Ahdieh, Marie Lu, or Kristin Cashore–a thrilling, romantic, and sharp-edged novel that lives up to its beloved heroine.

Frankly in Love by David Yoon G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers

High school senior Frank Li is a Limbo–his term for Korean-American kids who find themselves caught between their parents’ traditional expectations and their own Southern California upbringing. His parents have one rule when it comes to romance–“Date Korean”–which proves complicated when Frank falls for Brit Means, who is smart, beautiful–and white. Fellow Limbo Joy Song is in a similar predicament, and so they make a pact: they’ll pretend to date each other in order to gain their freedom. Frank thinks it’s the perfect plan, but in the end, Frank and Joy’s fake-dating maneuver leaves him wondering if he ever really understood love–or himself–at all.

How to Be Remy Cameron by Julian Winters Duet

Everyone on campus knows Remy Cameron. He’s the out-and-gay, super-likable guy that people admire for his confidence. The only person who may not know Remy that well is Remy himself. So when he is assigned to write an essay describing himself, he goes on a journey to reconcile the labels that people have attached to him, and get to know the real Remy Cameron.

The Other Side: Stories of Central American Teen Refugees Who Dream of Crossing the Border by Juan Pablo Villalobos, Rosalind Harvey (Translator) Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Award-winning Mexican author Juan Pablo Villalobos explores illegal immigration with this emotionally raw and timely nonfiction book about ten Central American teens and their journeys to the United States.

You can’t really tell what time it is when you’re in the freezer.

Every year, thousands of migrant children and teens cross the U.S.-Mexico border. The journey is treacherous and sometimes deadly, but worth the risk for migrants who are escaping gang violence and poverty in their home countries. And for those refugees who do succeed? They face an immigration process that is as winding and multi-tiered as the journey that brought them here.

In this book, award-winning Mexican author Juan Pablo Villalobos strings together the diverse experiences of eleven real migrant teenagers, offering readers a beginning road map to issues facing the region. These timely accounts of courage, sacrifice, and survival—including two fourteen-year-old girls forming a tenuous friendship as they wait in a frigid holding cell, a boy in Chicago beginning to craft his future while piecing together his past in El Salvador, and cousins learning to lift each other up through angry waters—offer a rare and invaluable window into the U.S.–Central American refugee crisis.

In turns optimistic and heartbreaking, The Other Side balances the boundless hope at the center of immigration with the weight of its risks and repercussions. Here is a necessary read for young people on both sides of the issue.

— Cover images and summaries via Goodreads

#new releases

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davidcarner · 7 years ago

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Chuck vs Truffaut Industries Ch 9, Get What you Need

A/N: *peaks from around the protective barrier I've built* Oh, hey, you're back. No one really stormed the castle, so it appears we're all good. Chuck and Sarah have moved past what happened (it's me, you knew they would), we learned Stephen may not be at fault, and Mary sucks at time-management. (What if she'd left something on the stove when she left? Goodness gracious.) So Truffaut is up and running, but it seems to have very few employees. It's okay, I have ideas. Chuck is about one thing, family, and families are messy.

Today's music was released way back in 1969, but don't worry, you don't need an 8 track and you know the song. (You guys do know what an 8 track is…right…never mind.) This song by the Rolling Stones, You Can't Always Get What You Want sums up this entire story. Ch 9, Get What You Need…You can't always get what you want but if you try sometimes you find you get what you need…

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, I don't really like cherry red soda, but I love the Stones.

"They seriously started a band?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah, Jeffster, and Chuck, they are God awful," Morgan said. "Neither one can sing, and that keytaur….I mean I love the 80s but give me a break."

"How's Anna?" Chuck asked, thankful he was out of that place.

"Scary…hot….scary hot…but scary," Morgan said, thinking.

"Still wearing the nerd herd uniform the way she wants?"

"Oh, yeah," Morgan said, grinning and lost in thought. Chuck shook his head, and watched the video again. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he figured he ought to appear to give it a shot.

"Do you want me to take him back to the zoo?" Casey asked, coming into Chuck's office.

"Nice to see you too, John." Morgan said pleasantly. "Enjoying your new job as a secretary? You should be a bouncer or something, it more fits your skill set."

"You should be a garden gnome," the big man grumbled.

"Well, should I give you two some alone time, or do you just want to go out on a date?" Chuck said. Casey growled.

"I came in here to find out if anyone made any progress on the break-in," Casey replied.

"Well, I haven't and I don't know if Sarah has or not," Chuck said.

"Why don't you go ask her?" Casey asked. "We're missing something, no one is that good."

"I'm not asking her because she's talking to her mother," Chuck replied. "And, you're right, there is no sign of anything."

"Does she know you're out here with your boyfriend mixing your chocolate and peanut butter?" Casey asked.

"That does sound delicious," Morgan said. "What does that even mean though?" Chuck shrugged. "Casey, what type of sandwich would you want if you were stuck on a deserted island?" Casey turned and left. "He always does that." Morgan turned to Chuck. "I thought you were a partner in the company."

"I am, but those two started it, so I'm trying to stay out of their way," Chuck said. Morgan looked at him, and shook his head, disappointed.

"Charles Irving Bartowski," Morgan began. Chuck looked at Morgan in shock.

"Ellie?" he asked. Morgan waved his hand.

"Focus, Chuck," Morgan said, annoyed. "You are going to take in the profits of your position without doing any of the work." Chuck thought for a second.

"Okay, 1, I never thought of it like that, and now I feel bad, but 2, don't you do that at the Buy More?" Chuck asked.

"Chuck, it's the Buy More," Morgan replied as if that explained everything. Chuck nodded and got up to go talk to Sarah. "Go ahead, if you don't care, I'm going to watch this while you're gone." Chuck shrugged. "So what am I looking for?"

"Anything that will explain how they got in with no one realizing it until it was too late," Chuck said.

"Really?" Morgan asked. "Because it's pretty obvious." Chuck turned to him. Casey stuck his head around the corner.

"There is no way a bearded gnome can figure this out and I can't," Casey said.

"Bet me," Morgan countered.

"What's the stakes?" Casey asked.

"If I'm right, I get a job here, a place to live in Simi Valley, and a date," Morgan said.

"If you lose, you never come in here again," Casey said grinning.

"Deal," Morgan said.

"Deal," Casey said, reaching out his hand his eyes gleaming. They shook on it.

"Not to be a party pooper, but Casey, you don't have that authority," Chuck reminded him.

"Fine, let's go tell you girlfriend and throw out the gnome," Casey said, as happy as they've ever seen him.

"I really don't think he likes me," Morgan said.

"He didn't choke you this time," Chuck pointed out.

"There's that," Morgan said, brightening. They walked to the conference room, where Sarah waved them all in. Casey told Sarah the bet.

"Okay, if you can figure it out, I'll get you the job, but the housing-" she began, and then the screen popped on.

"Oh good, you're all here," Beckman said. Chuck didn't look happy. "Listen, Mr. Bartowski we can sort out our disagreements later, this is about the safety of your friend." Chuck nodded, Morgan looked concerned. "We are very concerned about Stephen contacting Mr. Grimes, and given what he did to Chuck and Sarah, we fear he might escalate things."

"General, do you mean physical harm, because my father wouldn't do that," Chuck said.

"Chuck," Beckman said as gently as she could. "After talking to your mother about what we think is going on, I need to ask you a question, and you to answer seriously, did you ever think your father would keep you away from your daughter?" The look on Chuck's face gave the answer. "I'm sorry, I know that sounds harsh, but he seems to be escalating. I want Mr. Grimes there with you, and I'm thinking about assigning Casey as his permanent security."

"General," Casey began. "Hold on just a minute, I'm already watching four people." Beckman nodded. "Is this guy really worth it?"

"I figure out what happened at the break in, and you haven't," Morgan retorted. Beckman leaned forward.

"Really," Beckman said. "I'd love to hear what you think, because we need this solved quickly to find the information taken." Morgan looked at Chuck.

"He and Casey kinda made a bet, General, but Casey promised things he couldn't deliver on," Chuck explained. Beckman frowned.

"Whatever the major said, I will honor," Beckman replied.

"The problem is, General, if Morgan is wrong he's not allowed to come back in the doors here," Chuck said.

"That's not happening, I need Mr. Grimes there, and not in Burbank," Beckman said. Casey groaned and Morgan rubbed his hands together.

"Great, I'm playing with house money," Morgan said. "The fight was staged." Beckman lifted an eyebrow. "The fight between the security guy and the robber, watch it again, it's staged. I know my Kung-Fu movies." Casey stared at Morgan. Sarah, grinning played back the video and Morgan pointed everything out.

"Well done, Mr. Grimes!" Beckman said. "We'll have the security guard picked up, and find out where his accomplices are. Now, what were your terms?"

"A place to live here in Simi Valley," he began.

"Done, the Major has a duplex, Morgan can move into the other side," Beckman said. Casey groaned.

"A job here," Morgan said.

"Doing what?" Sarah asked. "I'm not saying no, just what would you do?"

"We can't play video games like we do every night, Buddy," Chuck said.

"Wait," Sarah said. "You are who Chuck plays?" Morgan nodded. "General, Morgan is an amazing strategist."

"I have my moments," Morgan said proudly. "And I find the best sub-$10 cuisine in Burbank, I'm sure I can do the same here."

"Done," Beckman said. "Mrs. Walker, you and I can work out his compensation." Sarah nodded.

"I also want a date," Morgan said. Sarah's eyebrows shot up. "Not with any of you," he quickly added.

"Looks like you missed your chance, Bartowski," Casey muttered.

"You sound a little jealous," Chuck retorted. Sarah stood there, thinking.

"I have an idea," she said. Morgan smiled.

"I trust you," Morgan said. Sarah smiled at him. "Now, I'm going to go get my stuff to move in, if that's alright."

"Sarah, attach a tracking watch to him, and show him how to use it," Beckman said. "I don't like sending you alone, but I just don't have the resources right now." She scanned some paperwork and looked up, catching Sarah's eye. "There is a government agent in California though…let me work on something. Good job team!" And, with that, she cut off.

"Team?" Chuck asked. Sarah shrugged.

"She is one of our biggest customers as far as money is concerned," Sarah said. Chuck looked a little upset.

"And I nearly blew it yesterday," he said. Sarah shook her head.

"I don't care if you did," Sarah said.

"Chuck, you're family," Emma said. Chuck gave them a sad smile. They heard Molly on the baby monitor.

"I'll go, let you all do some real work," and with that Chuck was gone. Sarah knew this whole mess was still bothering him. It wasn't going to affect them anymore, but it was still bothering him.

}o{

Morgan had loaded the Nerd Herder, he had to figure out how to get it back to Burbank before he was reported for stealing it, and thought he would bring some sizzilin' shrimp to his new co-workers. He was walking to his car when he heard a commotion. He turned and a beautiful red-headed woman was running toward him, being chased by men. Morgan quickly opened the door, and started the car.

"Get in," he yelled, she seemed to take a second to weigh her choices, but she dove in the car and he took off. "Morgan Grimes," he said.

"Huh?" the woman answered.

"It's my name, Morgan Grimes," he replied.

"Oh, Carina," she said. "Thanks for the save."

"Where to?" Morgan asked. "And what did you do, stiff them the tip on some egg rolls?" Carina just stared at him.

"Sure, let's go with that," she said. "Unless you know anyone with access to the federal government agency, I'm not sure."

"I do, but it's in Simi Valley," he answered. Carina just stared at him.

"Blonde lady, blue eyes, tall?" Carina asked.

"Yeah, Sarah!" he exclaimed. "You know her?"

"Probably," Carina said.

"Oh, you may know her as Jenny," Morgan said. Carina looked at him. "That's who she was when Chuck met her."

"Chuck? Chuck Babinski?" she asked. "Wait, so you're Martin?"

"No, I'm Morgan, and he's Chuck Bartowski," Morgan explained.

"Same thing," she said, as she sat back. "Let's go there."

"It's a bit of a drive," he said, and gave her a quick glance. "So, what type of sandwich would you want if you were on a deserted island?"

}o{

"Hey, what's wrong?" Sarah asked, watching Chuck hold Molly in his office. He was sitting in one the chairs facing the back of his monitors like he was a client.

"I feel a little useless," he said.

"Chuck, why?"

"Listen, I get it, I did something good with Verbanski, but what else am I good for?" he asked. "Morgan figured out things I couldn't, he even pointed out I wasn't doing my part as an owner."

"Well, he's right," Sarah said. Chuck looked at her, and she gave him, a "well, you said it" look. "Listen, I can't do a thing you did with those computer programs. You've turned this business into a profit machine, and take away our government contracts because of my contacts, you are the only reason we make money. We each have a specialty, but there's something else you have that the rest of us don't. You care. Chuck, you're a part of this, it's up to you to decide how much you want to be a part." Chuck sat there nodding.

"Sorry," Chuck began, but stopped.

"What?"

"No, it's just an excuse," Chuck said. "Starting now, I'm going to be a part, but if I do too much tell me to back off."

"If you were going to say your life's been flipped upside down, you'd be right, and I don't think that's as much as of an excuse but an adjustment," Sarah said, winking. "Now come on, we've got work to do, and I need you, as a part owner to look at some things. They walked up front as Morgan entered and Carina was behind him.

"Hey, Sarah, this is Carina and she needs some help," Morgan said.

"Carina is it?" Sarah said smiling. She walked up to Carina, studied her, grinned, and hugged her.

"Miller," Carina said, returning the hug. "I'm glad you got out."

"Walker," Sarah told her. "I'm glad I got out." The two broke the hug and Carina saw Chuck holding Molly.

"Wow, she's gotten big," Carina said. "Nice boy toy," she whispered.

"Chuck, this is Carina, an old friend," Sarah said. Chuck raised an eyebrow, but said, nothing, knowing he'd get he'd get the full story later.

"Wait, baby daddy, Chuck?" Carina asked.

"I really don't like that term," Chuck said. Sarah shrugged.

"It's not an untrue statement," she said.

"You keep being the sassy one," Chuck said grinning.

"You two are sickening," Carina said. Sarah stuck her tongue out at Carina. Carina shook her head. "You are absolutely domesticated, and you love it." Sarah nodded.

"Oh, what fresh hell is this," Casey growled.

"Miss me, John?" Carina asked. Casey growled and walked away.

"They know each other?" Chuck asked, the whole group following Carina following Casey.

"Long story, I'll tell you later," she said.

"Casey, seriously I need to check in," Carina said. Casey turned, gave her a look, grunted, and took her into the conference room along with everyone else. Beckman came on the screen.

"Agent Miller, thank God you okay," Beckman said. "Last we heard the Triad was on your trail.

"Wait, those were Triad?" Morgan said.

"Yeah, Marty, why did you think I jumped in your car with you?" Carina asked.

"The beard," Morgan admitted.

"It is an impressive beard, my friend," Chuck admitted. "What did you think was going on?

"I thought she had stiffed someone a tip," Morgan admitted. Chuck just blinked and shook his head. Sarah had her head buried in Chuck's arm laughing.

"Agent Miller," Beckman said, really enjoying what she was about to do. "The DEA has two choices with you so badly compromised right now. They can put you in the office and have you do nothing but paperwork-"

"I'll take the other, whatever it is," Carina said, cutting in. Beckman smiled.

"Or, you can move in with Mr. Grimes for both of your protection," Beckman said. Chuck tried so hard not to laugh. Sarah was crying from laughing so hard, and Casey was even chuckling.

"Uh, General, that's a bad idea, the Triad are looking for me," Carina said.

"Not in Simi Valley, and certainly not in Morgan Grime's half of a duplex," Beckman said. "Plus with the Major living right beside you, he can keep an eye out if something should happen. These are your choices Agent Miller. DEA desk, or temporary assignment to the DEA where you could sometimes, possibly do assignments." Carina looked at Morgan.

"General," Casey said. "It might be even better if you made Carina Mr. Grime's cover girl friend." Carina glared daggers at Casey.

"This is for Prague, isn't it?" she said. Casey just shrugged.

"That's not a bad idea," Beckman said. "Sarah, can you find something for Carina to do at Truffaut, you won't actually have to pay her."

"She does have a certain, skill set," Casey said, laughing.

"Casey, that's a bit low," Chuck said. Sarah beamed at Chuck.

"Agent Miller, regardless of the crude was it has been put, Major Casey is right," Beckman said. Carina sighed.

"How much cover goes into the cover?" Carina asked.

"Not as much as you usually give," Beckman responded. Sarah's eyebrows about shot up off of her head. "But as usual, what you and Mr. Grimes decide to do, that's your business.

"Okay, I'll date Marty," Carina said.

"Good," Beckman replied. "Mr. Bartowski, Mrs. Walker, would you be so kind as to help them get into their role by going on a double date tonight. I do believe we owe Mr. Grimes a date."

}o{

As Chuck and Sarah got to the restaurant, Sarah got a text. She read it, looked at Chuck, and then pulled him in for a time-stopping kiss.

"What's was that for, national emergency?" he asked, when his brain rebooted.

"No, that kiss was I love you, thank you for being my boyfriend, baby daddy," she smiled as Chuck gave her a look. "And, to hope you know whatever she says in there tonight, I'm not that person in anymore." Chuck smiled at her.

"Sarah, I've been told by enough people what kind of changes you went through after you met me, I don't care about before that," Chuck said, sincerely. "I love you." Sarah smiled, but she looked worried.

"How about in a few days we either have Ellie over, or go to her house and have her tell you all the embarrassing stories in the world about me," Chuck said. Sarah grinned, but there were tears.

"Chuck, dad was in prison, and I had to do things for the CIA, any means necessary," she said. Chuck looked upset. "See, this is why I don't talk about the past much."

"I'm going to kill Graham, to make you use yourself like that-" Chuck was angry, but Sarah laid a hand on his arm, to try to calm him and cut him off.

"Listen, I had to stop people, by killing them, not bang half the football team," she said, trying to make a joke. "Too soon?"

"You made a joke about that right after I met you, how would now be too soon?" Chuck asked, the anger abating. "Sarah, were they bad guys…or girls, I don't want to be sexist…should that be women instead of girls." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Chuck, bad people," she said. "And some men I had to seduce, which meant lead them on, let them have what they thought would be a good time, and then…" Chuck nodded.

"You did it to save innocents, at the cost of your own innocence," he said. Sarah stared at him.

"Damn," she whispered.

"What, did I say something wrong?" he asked, very confused.

"Just when I think I can't love you more, you say something like that. Something so understanding, and exactly what I needed to hear," she said. "We need to stop by Large Mart on the way home." With that, she swallowed, steadied herself, and began to lead him inside.

"Why would we need…Oh," he said, understanding hitting him. "We have a full box." She just gave him a look, and it finally dawned on him. "Oh, boy."

}o{

Sarah was humming happily, working on business expenses when Carian barged in.

"Is something wrong with me?" she asked. Sarah gave her the once over.

"Nothing physically, mentally we don't have that kind of time," Sarah answered. Carina was still upset and not taking the bait. Sarah sat back, arms crossed, curious. "Sit," she said, nodding toward the chair across from her. Carina hesitated, shut the door, drawing an eyebrow raise from Sarah, and sit down.

"He slept on the couch last night," Carina said. Sarah unfolded her arms, and leaned forward on her desk. "He was an absolute gentleman."

"Those guys exist you know," Sarah said.

"I need to go back to the DEA," Carina said. "I'll just stay on the desk, I can't do this, Sarah," she said.

"Who will protect him?" Sarah asked. Carina looked at her. "You are shook to your core," she said. "Morgan Grimes rescued you without wanting a thing, he took you to dinner, treated you like a princess, refused to take advantage of the situation, and you, Carina, are feeling things you don't know how to handle."

"Blondie, you don't understand…" Carina began lost for words. Sarah just smiled.

"Oh, I don't?" she asked, picking up a picture of Chuck and Molly. Carina looked at it, turning pale. "You are scared to death. You enjoy your life, you really do, and that's great, you should, but you've got the taste of something else, and while you don't want to want it, a small piece of you, is attracted to it in a way you've never felt. So, Carina Miller, are you gonna face it, or run, and leave 'Marty' all alone."

"I called him Morgan last night, and you know what he said?" Carina asked. Sarah shook her head. "He looked kinda disappointed, and I asked why, and he told me, 'Me being Marty, that's kinda our thing,' and he walked off."

"Now tell me how it ends," Sarah said. Carina blushed and Sarah nearly fell out of her seat.

"I said, 'I'm sorry Marty, it just slipped, you know being all these different places, it won't happen again.'" Carina couldn't even look Sarah in the eye.

"Is it the beard?" Sarah asked, grinning.

"No!" Carina said forcefully. She was quiet for a second. "I do like it though." A knock on the door paused their conversation, they saw it was Chuck and Sarah signaled him to come in.

"Sorry to intrude, but we have a potential client," Chuck said. "They have a potential infiltration they'd like us to do for them to check their security," he said, wincing.

"What?" Sarah asked, worried.

"Morgan, heard the whole thing, saw the blueprints, and thinks he knows a way in, but it would take someone with a certain skill set," he said.

"Me," Carina said, grinning. Chuck nodded.

"Okay, I'll talk to them," Sarah said. "If we agree, you and Casey do the infiltration and take Morgan on coms with you since he knows the plan." Carina nodded, got up, and headed outside.

"Did it work?" Chuck asked grinning.

"Did what work?" she asked, amused. What were those two up to?

"Operation RESPECT," Chuck said, the smile covering his face. "Reject Each Sexual PredicamEnt Carina Tries."

"Are you allowed to use two letters in the same word?" Sarah asked, laughing. Chuck shrugged.

"It's all Morgan's idea, I'm just helping him," Chuck said.

"You do know Carina is…" Sarah trailed off.

"A human being that deserves to be loved just like anyone else?" Chuck offered. Sarah smiled, got up, walked out her door, and as Chuck turned to join her, she swatted his backside. "Gotta stop by Large Mart tonight."

"AGAIN?"

}o{

"Did it work?" Morgan asked, sticking his head into Chuck's office. Chuck shook his head, smiling.

"They were talking about something pretty seriously, when I walked in, Buddy," Chuck said. "They want to take you on coms." Morgan fist pumped upon hearing that. "Are you ready for this?"

"I'll just take ANOTHER cold shower," Morgan said. Chuck gave him a look. "Dude, do you know the look she gave me, when I told her no. She gave me puppy dog eyes, and then came and sat on the couch with me."

"Morgan," Chuck said, warning him.

"Then, she stretched a leg over me," he paused, lost in thought. "They are so long," he said, in awe.

"Morgan," Chuck said, his voice getting louder.

"Then she straddle me, and whispered into my ear about how she'd make me think my name actually was Marty," Morgan said, his eyes far away.

"MORGAN!" Chuck yelled bringing Morgan back to Earth.

"Sorry," Morgan said. "There's been a lot of cold showers the past 24 hours dude, I think part of my brain is frozen." Chuck nodded.

"I understand," Chuck said.

"I get now why you wanted Jenny back so much," Morgan said, his eyes glazing over again. Chuck put his hand over his face. He picked up his phone and sent a text. A few minutes later, Casey came in, with a bucket of water, and poured it over Morgan's head.

"AHHH!" he yelled. Casey grunted at Chuck, nodded and walked off. "Thanks, Buddy." Morgan said, and headed out of his office. Sarah stuck her head in, a confused look on her face.

"Thinking about Carina?" she asked. Chuck nodded. "What do you say you and I take our girl to lunch?"

"That's the best idea I've heard today," Chuck said, grinning.

A/N: Next time, dinner with Ellie, bring your ear plugs…You just might find, you get what you need… Take care, see you soon

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #MOLLY!#Chuck vs Truffaut Industries #fanfic #fanfiction

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pinkvilla · 8 years ago

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Flashback Friday: Kajol and Karan's friendship in this old show makes us nostalgic

We all know of Bollywood's notorious reputation of ruining friendships. Kajol and Karan Johar's case is a classic example of friends turning into foes due to the pressure of the business. The filmmaker and the power house actress were once thick as thieves, and have also worked splendidly together in movies such as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Dilwale Dulhania Le jayenge, My Name is Khan, and Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Ghum. However, his outburst about Kajol in his biography shocked one and all for its honesty and candidness.

Recommended Read: Here's why only a few people can meet Karan Johar's twins Yash and Roohi

Karan penned down in his book An Unsuitable Boy his thoughts about the break up of this sweet friendship gone sour. He wrote, "I wouldn’t like to give a piece of myself to her at all because she’s killed every bit of emotion I had for her for twenty-five years. That tweet validated the insanity, that she could believe I would bribe someone. I felt that's it. It’s over. And she can never come back to my life. I don’t think she wants to either. I never want to have anything to do with them as a unit. She was the one who mattered to me but now it’s over."

Well, however, check out their chemistry in this old 2012 chat show - Rendezvous with Simi Garewal. It was after the release of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, which went on to become one of the classic films of Bollywood. Here are some of the loving things that the two said to each other and about each other on the show. Host Simi tagged the episode as, "A Riot". Simi wrote about Kajol and Karan, "I asked Karan to bring his 'best friend' for our Rendezvous. He brought Kajol. They were a RIOT! I don't think I've laughed so much on any show! And neither has Kajol!! Especially in the Quick Fire round -- which evoked hilarious answers! Karan is always cool in an interview -- but I've never seen Kajol so bindaas on any other show!"

Here are some excerpts from the show, which made us really nostalgic:

Recommended Read: Karan Johar wants Alia Bhatt to play Twinkle Khanna in his biopic

When Karan Johar and his mom Hiroo got Kajol ready for the show:

Kajol said, "Karan's mom told me, 'You have to be proper, careful, don't scream and don't shout." Karan added, "We got so paranoid, we dressed her, we costumed her, we put make up on her so that she matches the rest of the atmosphere here."

Karan's first memory of Kajol:

"We were at a Cineblitz party. After years I had seen Kajol. We had only met as kids. Her mother insisted that I dance with her daughter who had just come down from boarding. We were dancing, and she just kept staring at me and laughing. I thought it was my dancing so I stopped but she still continued dancing. I then went and complained to my mother saying Tanu aunty's daughter is very strange.

When Kajol became protective about Karan:

"Kajol was worried about me, if people on the sets would take me seriously as it was my first film as a director. She told me, 'You know, don't worry about it. I will do something silly on the sets and you scream at me. When people see that you can scream at ME, they will take you seriously."

Recommended Read: Karan Johar on hearing Kangana Ranaut's name: I am going to run out of here

Karan on Ajay Devgn:

"Her tone changes when her husband calls her. She is like screaming and then picks up the phone and she's like, 'Hi darling..., what's happening, are you okay?' We were surprised to see the change in her when she spoke to Ajay."

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#karan johar #kajol #ajay devgn

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its-clock-smith · 4 years ago

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The Unbelievable Truth by Gordon Smith

There have been many books written by psychics but this has got to be one of the more credible. Gordon Smith has been hailed as Britain's most accurate medium. I saw him at a theatre in Birmingham and clearly the audience were astonished at the detailed factual information he gave that was confirmed by the individuals he was talking to. Of course our western culture tends to be sceptical about anything that is not rationally understood and claims such as those by Smith are highly contentious within the world of science. Having said that many people nevertheless embrace paranormal beliefs. Gallup has conducted several polls and found that about three-quarters of the American population believe in the one or more paranormal processes. The author comments on how amazing it is to watch the reaction on someone's face when a certain piece of evidence comes through from the other side. It can put a light back on in a person's life. One example is when he was talking with a woman in her mid-forties who had arranged a half-hour sitting with him. He heard the voice of a young man by his left ear saying 'Mum I'm here'. Smith passed on his name, how he died and many features of his life. All seemed to be going well until the woman asked about a special code she had arranged with her son before he died. Her face fell when nothing came back. Smith often looks at a private sitting as the spirit person getting a chance to make a phone call. If we imagine what we would say to our family in what might be a one-off call, it would probably not be a very measured and concise conversation. For me his sitter exemplifies the sceptical attitude of many. Despite all the evidence that it was her son who was present, she still disbelieved. However, finally as she stood up to depart, he heard her son suddenly call out the word 'clover'. "At this she stared at me, shocked. Tears began to run down her cheeks." This was the code that they had agreed upon. I approached this book aware of Emanuel Swedenborg's warnings about the dangers of open communication with spirits. In books about the history of modern spiritualism considerable space has been given to Swedenborg because of his voluminous writings detailing his extraordinary experiences of spirits including evil spirits who wish to cause harm. This links in with the attitude of Christians who have traditionally been wary of contacting spirits. And so I asked myself 'Why has Smith not come a cropper through contact with malicious spirits? How advisable is it to have any truck with psychics such as those who apparently believe what the spirits are saying?' I have come to think that genuine mediums such as Smith who are seeking to bring comfort to the bereaved and hope in a future reunion are protected by a divine force. If you open yourself to the psychic realm in the right spirit of care and concern for others then you'll get the right spirit coming to you. Smith points out that mediums do not call up the dead. "On the contrary, the spirit people attract the attention of the particular medium they feel attuned to in order to contact their loved one." He writes that he has spent most of his life through his medium-ship trying to convince people there is life after death. "Once we accept that our spirit will live on after death, then comes the question: what is it like in the afterlife? Where do we go? Is there a Heaven and Hell and what qualifies you to go to one or the other?" The book has a chapter on this. He points out that many people fear that loved ones who have led less than perfect lives are held in some 'dark Hell realm'. This applied to an occasion in 1966 during a private sitting with a well dressed but sad-looking woman. He heard the voice of a young man in the spirit world telling him that this was his mother. The information came through that Mike had been suffering from AIDS and knew he was going to soon die. One night he had simply decided to take some tablets from the bathroom and end it all rather than involve everyone around him in prolonged emotional suffering. His family had already died a social death with neighbours and so-called friends. "He told his mother that he was free of his suffering now and that he wanted to stop her from hurting because of what he had done. Such was her state of mind that she had consulted a medium even though it was against her religious beliefs." Smith says that the real hell is a state experienced by people who are locked in personal torment. If they grow from the experience of awareness of the wrong they have done then no afterlife judgment is needed. Living with the emotional pain they feel from this is punishment enough. There is much more in this book published by Hay House, Inc 2004. There for example is also material on mediums and psychics, poltergeists, hauntings, altered states etc. a lot of which I find helpful and credible. It fits in well with the idea I favour that we are all part of a physical realm and a spirit realm at the same time, and that, as Smith says, the part of us that is the material world is the size of your thumbnail. Copyright 2010 Stephen Russell-Lacy Stephen Russell-Lacy edits Spiritual Questions a free eZine that explores links between spiritual philosophy and the comments and questions of spiritual seekers. Sign up to share your views and find out more about human consciousness.

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shefa · 6 years ago

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In Memory of My Beloved Mother, Diane Weiss

Rabbi Stephen Weiss March 3, 2019

My dear Mom,

Where do I begin?

One of my earliest memory of you is the blizzard of 1967. Those who were living here in Cleveland at that time might remember it as well. In both cities, it hit hard. In Chicago, the snow was so deep that drifts reached second story windows and both cars and the road were so covered with feet of snow that it was as if they weren’t even there.

I was five at the time. For us as kids, it was a blast. I remember we built an incredible snow fort and – though we probably didn’t really do it – in my childhood memory we jumped out of the upstairs window into a huge snow drift. It was a wonderland.

But the most fun in that blizzard was riding the sled to the laundromat. You would load up a bag of laundry, put it on the sled along with the three of us, and then you would pull that sled by a rope, across the snow and ice, down the street to the laundromat. Then back home for another bag. And maybe a third, I am not sure. And then of course back and forth on the sled multiple times as you brought the fresh laundry home. God, I loved that. It was an adventure. I am sure it was not that much fun for you.

I can still see you pulling the sled. Under a thick winter parka with a fur-lined hood, was the most beautiful woman in the world. You were slender and elegant, with your signature wavy bright red hair, a face full of freckles, those sparkling, crinkly, happy eyes… and no matter what you faced, even in that blizzard, even as you schlepped your kids and your laundry through the snow… always happy, always that incredible smile. You made a game of it for us. You never let on how hard it must have been for you.

Mom, that moment is etched in my mind because it captures so much of your incredible, indomitable spirit. You carried us through life as you carried us on that sled: watching over us, protecting us, shielding us from the hardships of life, teaching us to never let anything hold us back, to believe that anything was possible if you have a can-do spirit, teaching us to find joy in every moment. Even in the struggles.

One day not long after we arrived in California, I was playing on the monkey bars at day care and fell off, landing on hard packed earth. There was no sand in in play grounds in those days. I broke my leg in two places. I was in the hospital for a couple weeks and spent 6 months in a body cast that extended on one leg from my toes, on the other from my shin, all the way up past my waist to just under my arm pits – my entire body rigid as a board. And I got Chicken Pox while in that cast too. And again, Mom, you made a game of it. You and dad carried me from room to room, playing like I was flying. It was then that you brought home our first dog, Midnight, a beautiful little black cocker spaniel poodle mix that was with us throughout our youth past my high school days. You knew I needed a distraction, something to make me smile and forget my troubles. And you turned everything around.

I remember how, every summer, you used to take us with you to Weathersfield Elementary School, where you taught second and third grade. You were the consummate teacher. Your students adored you, and you loved them like your own children. You always applied the latest educational theory. You used all kinds of games, media and crafts. You taught in multiple modes of learning before that was ever a thing. You played close attention to each student’s needs and learning styles. You helped each student succeed and feel that they were special, the same way that you made each of us feel special.

In your 39 years of teaching, you along with your very close friend and co-teacher Bev Haddad also represented the teachers’ union. You fought for the funds, equipment and programs to improve education in the schools. You also fought hard for teacher’s rights. Bev said to me the other day that all the teachers, parents and former students in the Conejo Valley have no idea what a profound role you played in the success of the educational system and how your work impacted their lives.

And those summers in your classroom, Mom? They impacted our lives too. You had us help you get the room ready for the year. We did everything from arranging the desks to running off dittos – I can still smell the ditto fluid on my hands – to making flash cards and using poster board and other materials to make games. You designed the most elaborate, colorful bulletin boards. We would cover them in colored paper and staple borders all around. Then we would cut out the letters to form the words. You had this opaque projector that you could put anything under, and it would project it on the wall. We would project onto large poster board images of cartoon characters. I remember the Banana Splits, in particular. We would trace them and cut them out and then color them in and staple them up on the bulletin boards. Those boards were works of art.

And the same way that you brought us to your classroom, you brought the classroom home and into our lives. Everything was a learning experience. You pushed us to work hard in school and do our best, and you always told us we were doing our best no matter what we could or couldn’t do. You were beside us, always helping us with our homework, getting us through the things that were tough for us, always making it fun. I remember how you worked with us on our science projects, treating our displays for the science fair like your bulletin boards. I think that’s why we won.

Remember, Mom, the day you and dad brought us to join Temple Ner Tamid in Simi Valley? The synagogue was just a two-bedroom house with a swimming pool out front. They had an open house and you brought us over in our swim suits and sent us to swim while you went inside, joined the temple and signed us up for USY. The friends we made in that pool that day – and then throughout the years through our involvement in USY -- became some of our closest friends, many still our friends to this day. We had fun swimming, but we had no idea how that moment would change the trajectory of our lives forever.

It was really important to you that we were in USY. You were always proud of the fact that you were active and a leader in LTF – the Leadership Training Fellowship – which was the predecessor of USY, the original youth organization of Conservative Judaism, and then later in USY which I think came into being when you were in 11th grade. You were a camp counselor at the Chicago Federation’s summer camp, active at the JCC and in BBG. You lived and breathed your Judaism, your Zionism, your love of Israel. Its no wonder that you married dad, who was a yeshiva bachur and taught Hebrew school when we were young.

The two of you encouraged us to go to every event, every kinnus, every Shabbaton, every convention. You supported our getting involved in Shabbat Troupe, which took us away weekend after weekend to experience Shabbat in different communities.

You allowed me somehow to ride three different busses – transferring again and again -- to get from Simi Valley to Hollywood during high school. I would get off the third bus at Hollywood and Vine. I don’t think you knew that was the red-light district. It was quite an experience. I would then walk the three blocks to the University of Judaism on Sunset Boulevard – where the Regional USY office was located – so that I could work on regional activities and programs. You later trusted us to drive in our teen jalopy of a car all over Southern California, Arizona and Nevada so we could take part in USY and see our friends.

You modeled all this in your own life as well, creating a home filled with the joy of Jewish holidays, with Shabbat services when we were young, with sumptuous Seders with the whole family and high holiday gatherings and joyous Chanukah and Purim celebrations and more. You served as the synagogue’s Youth Commission Chair and Education Chair and Vice President. Later in life you and dad co-founded the Hazak chapter at Midbar Kodesh in Las Vegas and served as its co-presidents for years. The two of you built a Judaica library there, and you served as President of the Henderson, Nevada chapter of Hadassah.

You did all this because you wanted us to love Judaism. You did it because you wanted us to value and be engaged in community. You did it because you wanted us to have a circle of Jewish friends despite living in a tiny outlying suburb with very few Jewish families. You did it because you wanted us to love Israel. You did it because you knew that for us -- as for you in your youth -- we would learn Jewish values and develop leadership skills we would use our whole lives. And you succeeded in all those goals. It is because of this and so much more that you and dad did for us – and most importantly that you and dad modeled for us in your own lives – that we have all become leaders in our own right, engaged in our communities, celebrating our Judaism with pride. If not for that day at the pool, David and I would never have become Regional USY presidents, Maddy and I would not have been in Shabbat Troupe, I might never have become a rabbi. Most importantly to me, I might never have met and fallen in love with Naomi.

And, Mom, you taught us to explore and that there were no limits. You and dad together took us on such wonderful trips: into the desert to hunt for Geodes and rocks, to Lake Tahoe, San Diego, and Disneyland. Mom, you had a special gift. As a teacher in California, you were able to get us passes to go to Disneyland for a whole day for nine dollars! Mom, do you know what it costs to go to Disneyland today? You wouldn’t believe it! Nine dollars! And it was an hour away. So, we practically lived at Disneyland, going there constantly, all the time. And you never minded if we were off driving to Disneyland in Anaheim or down to San Diego, or out to Arizona, or to Las Vegas, visiting friends, coming home late at night. You always trusted us. You always encouraged us to spread our wings. In the same way, growing up, you taught us to explore beyond our own neighborhood, encouraging us to go out and play and hike in the hills behind our house. You never worried what would happen to us. You had confidence that we would take care of ourselves. You wanted us to know that the world was big, and that we should explore it.

Mom, you didn’t just give us self-esteem, a love of learning, a can-do spirit, a love of Judaism, engagement in community, the thirst to explore and to know there are no limits…. You also taught us by deed and by word to value and fight for social justice, to stand against bigotry and to stand for civil rights and for feminism, to stand for equality in all aspects of society and to help those who are in need. From driving us to actions on behalf of Soviet Jewry to helping us deliver to food donations, to your sharing about minority students in your school and the challenges they faced – especially, I recall, a group of students who were brought to your school from Saudi Arabia – to long discussions over the table about current events on which you always had very strongly held opinions…. You taught us to care about others and to fight for a just society, to be engaged in the world around us. You taught us to dedicate our lives to tikkun olam.

Mom, you also taught us the meaning of love and devotion in marriage. In your almost 63 years with dad, the two of you were more madly in love – that’s the word my beloved sister-in-law Barbara used last night, and it’s so appropriate – so madly in love with each other, more than anyone I know. You were partners in everything in life who aside from when you were working in different places spent every single moment together, never apart. Your love is an inspiration to us in our relationships.

And God, how you loved your grandchildren! How much they meant to you! How you schepped nachas over them and talked about them without stopping. You were so proud of all their accomplishments. So proud of every graduation. So proud of Mara’s successful career, and Sam being Regional USY president and now a Buckeye, and his teaching religious school in Columbus, so in awe of his Arabic skills as he headed off to Jordan. So proud of Rivka’s career as a social worker and so thrilled with Rivka and your new grandson Aron who you loved as your own. So proud of Menachem becoming a doctor and Yael’s success as a teacher. You followed all their lives closely, thrilling at every adventure and challenge they undertook, crowing about every accomplishment and letting the world know how special each of them are.

How your face lit up at every picture and every phone call. How you cherished every time you could be with them, whether in Simi or Las Vegas, in Northridge, New York, Atlanta, Detroit or Cleveland, even Rochester. I remember all your visits to us in all the cities where we lived. Wherever we were, you were there with dad: to be with us, to share with family, to spend time with your grandchildren. I remember the big boxes of gifts you would send them at holiday time: all the bargains that you got, that you found at some discount store. They were sometimes unusual gifts! But they were sent with such love!

And it was an extraordinary gift to us, Mom, that you and dad moved here to Cleveland. For most of our adult lives and our kids’ lives, we would only be able to see you on visits once or twice a year, we travelling to you in Las Vegas or you to Cleveland. Our relationship was marked by phone calls and emails. But then we had the gift of this past almost three years. I got to be with you and dad almost every day. To have you sit in synagogue, hear me preach. To daven together. To sit together at a kiddush table or a Shabbat lunch. You made so many friends here in the congregation. – I know how many of you know my Mom and dad and love them. That means the world to me. – It was an extraordinary gift.

You fought a good fight, Mom. When you were diagnosed with cancer, the doctor said you had maybe six months to live. It has been almost two years. You lived to see almost all your grandchildren graduate from college. You lived to see Rivka and Aron marry and dance at their wedding, to watch Menachem become a doctor. You lived to share many wonderful times together with family over these past two years because you fought so hard. You didn’t want to give up.

I remember that after you had gone through double-chemo and radiation and then immunotherapy and then another chemo, and nothing was working – maybe it worked some, because you lasted almost two years – but they had decided there was nothing else that they could do. The doctor said to you that he could set you up for a clinical trial if you wanted to. But the only thing available was a phase one trial. The chances of success would be very small, and the chances of bad side effects was significant. It might involve suffering. He suggested you might want to weigh whether you might just want to have quality time with your family.

We walked out of the doctor’s office and you said, “What was that? What kind of doctor abandons his patient?” Of course, he did not abandon you. He was an excellent doctor who was brilliant and compassionate, and you came to understand that over time. He had carefully explained to you the options that were in front of you. He offered to help you fight if that was your choice. I reminded her that he had offered to set you up with a clinical trial if that was what you wanted.

There was not a question in your mind about what you wanted. You wanted to fight. You were going to fight tooth and nail, to the end, to be with your family. And you did. You did. To the very end. You fought to the very end. To be with us. Because you loved us so much. Because you cherished every single moment that you had with us.

And, Mom, we cherished every single moment that we had with you. Every day with you was a gift. Every day with you, you filled our hearts with love and joy. You gave us strength. You guided us. We would not be who we are without you.

I am so grateful now that you are at peace. You deserve to rest. You fought the good fight. And now you have the embrace of your parents – our grandparents – and of your brother Jerry, who you loved so much.

I know that God has rich reward for you and that you have a place in heaven by God’s right-hand side. I know that you will always be with us. I feel your spirit even now. I know that you will watch over us, as you always did. I know that you will protect us. I know that you will inspire us.

I just hope that we live up to the gifts that you have given us and do honor to what you mean to us.

We love you, Mom.

May God bless your soul.

#Diane Weiss Rabbi Stephen Weiss eulogy mother motherhood mom

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letsgolando-4 · 1 year ago

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Some things never change, huh?

#sebastian vettel #kimi räikkonën #mika hakkinen #michael schumacher #formula 1 #f1 #simi #simif1 #makkinen #germans and their grumpy finns #in this house we love and protect simi #and makkinen #but mostly simi

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petrehomingnetwork · 7 years ago

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teachanarchy · 8 years ago

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As a 14-year-old in 1980s Chicago, Christian Picciolini was ripe for recruitment into a hate group: He was bullied, didn’t have a lot of friends and felt “abandoned” by his Italian immigrant parents who worked long hours.

One day, when he was standing in an alley smoking a joint, a car pulled up, and a man with a shaved head came out, pulled the joint out of his mouth and said:

“Don’t you know that’s what the Jews and the Communists want you to do to keep you docile?”

That man was Clark Martell, a national leader of the white supremacist skinhead movement. Martell’s history of violence, according to a 1989 Chicago Tribune article, included targeting LGBTQ people and people of color. He once attempted to burn down the house of a Latino family.

Picciolini was recruited into Martell’s neo-Nazi skinhead group in 1987, and when Martell ended up in prison a couple of years later, Picciolini took the helm.

“He made me feel powerful when I felt powerless, gave me family and a sense of purpose,” Picciolini told HuffPost. “I was a nobody kid people picked on for having a funny name ― and [a few years later] I was respected and powerful.”

“False power and false respect,” Picciolini added.

After having children, which Picciolini says challenged his “notions of identity, community and purpose,” he left the hate group in 1995.

Over a decade later, in 2009, he co-founded Life After Hate, a small nonprofit run entirely by former members of America’s radical far-right, dedicated to supporting those who have left, or are seeking to leave, hate groups in the U.S.

It’s the only organization of its kind in the country ― and it’s up against a growing problem: The number of hate groups in the U.S. has doubled in the last 10 to 15 years, according to the Southern Poverty Law Center, and around 80 percent of those groups advocate white supremacist beliefs.

“People come to us because they know that we won’t judge them.”

Leaving a hate group isn’t easy. When a woman left his neo-Nazi group in 1989, Martell viciously beat her, according to the Tribune. He reportedly kicked her in the face and drew a swastika on the wall of her home in her blood. He was later arrested and sent to prison.

Life After Hate helps those who have left or are trying to leave extremism behind by providing them with an array of support services. The main tool of the Chicago-based group is a private online network, set up by and for former extremists, to provide them with a new, supportive community.

“People come to us because they know that we won’t judge them,” Picciolini told HuffPost. “As someone who understands their past, we give them a helping hand ― not focused on yesterday, but focused on today and tomorrow.”

Picciolini and his colleagues ― some of whom are social workers, all of whom are former extremists and have worked with psychologists to craft their nonprofit’s approach ― also travel the country to meet with members in person, to provide individualized support. They help connect members to local service providers, including therapy, job training and tattoo removal, to try to tackle the underlying drivers of their hate.

Picciolini says most people who come to them have experienced one of three things: trauma, unemployment or mental health issues.

“I listen for potholes ― or what deviated them from their normal path and led them down this one ― and try to find them services to help,” Picciolini said. “When you make people more resilient, self-sufficient and self-confident, they don’t have anyone to blame, and the ‘us against them’ ideology goes away.”

Privacy is paramount, so before they let anyone into their online group, they spend months chatting with them to make sure they’ve truly left extremism.

“We want to protect the people in the network,” Picciolini said. “It’s a safe place, not for someone vulnerable to going back ― and taking names with them.”

Life After Hate’s reach is relatively small: Its online group currently has 60 members. Some had already left extremism before they joined and were looking for community. Others are actively exiting hate groups.

For Picciolini, who recognizes their group is small compared with the problem of white supremacist hate, it’s all about helping people one by one.

“We reach one person at a time ― we know we can’t solve racism,” he said. “What I do know is I can affect the people closest to me. If everybody thinks that way ― with your coworkers, your friends ― it can change the world.”

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“What changed us is when we received compassion from the people we least deserved it from.”

One key strategy the group uses to help people leave extremism behind is to facilitate in-person meetings between former extremists and members of groups they once discriminated against ― for instance, having a former Islamophobe meet an imam, or letting a onetime Holocaust denier talk with a survivor.

“As former extremists from the far right, what changed us is when we received compassion from the people we least deserved it from,” Picciolini said. “Often times they’ve never met a black person or had a meaningful conversation with a Muslim or Jewish person. I get them into a situation where they can sit and talk, and realize there are more things in common than differences.”

The strategy derives from “contact theory,” or the well-researched idea that contact with groups from different backgrounds can increase tolerance. It seems to have worked for certain high-profile extremists, such as former white nationalist Derek Black, who began leaving the movement after being invited to a series of Shabbat dinners by a Jewish fellow college student, and Life After Hate Deputy Director Angela King, who left the skinhead movement after being befriended by a group of Jamaican women in prison.

“That’s how most people get out,” expert Heidi Beirich of the Southern Poverty Law Center told HuffPost last month, adding that the work of reaching out to people from different backgrounds should not fall on people from marginalized groups.

“It shouldn’t be on the groups facing this,” Beirich said. “It’s on the rest of us.”

“We still don’t call it terrorism when it’s white extremism.”

Part of the reason there aren’t more groups like Life After Hate in the U.S. ― while other forms of organized violence, such as gangs and Islamist extremism, have long had programs and funding dedicated to tackling them ― is because Americans tend to ignore the realities of white supremacist violence, according to Beirich.

“There has been a general reluctance in this country to see white people as responsible for terrorism in some sort of organized way,” Beirich told HuffPost last month. “When people talk about white supremacist terrorism, they want to call it a one-off. He’s a crazy person. It’s like white people can’t handle the idea that there are devils in our midst.”

Since September 11, 2001, there have been 85 deadly extremist attacks in the United States, according to a recent Government Accountability Office report — 73 percent of the attacks were carried out by far-right extremist groups, compared to 27 percent by radical Islamist extremists.

Just a couple of months ago, Reuters reported that the Trump administration may alter the government’s counter-extremism program to focus solely on Islamist extremism. As a result, Life After Hate may lose $400,000 in funding that it had been awarded through the program in January under President Barack Obama, said Picciolini. The group hasn’t received the funds yet and doesn’t know if it will.

“We’re concerned about the policies of the new administration [indicating] that white extremism may not be an issue,” Picciolini said. “There really is no difference between what happened in Charleston with Dylann Roof and what happened in San Bernardino. They’re both terror attacks based on ideologies of extremism ― yet we still don’t call it terrorism when it’s white extremism.”

“The only difference between alt-right and what I was in then is packaging.”

Picciolini says that the recent rise of the so-called alt-right movement ― a white supremacist movement with young leadership, branding meant to appeal to millennials and a large online presence ― makes Life After Hate’s job harder.

“In the old days you could spot a skinhead a mile away ― now it’s harder in a virtual world. And they made the message more palatable, wear suits and ties, don’t shave their heads.

“The only difference between alt-right and what I was in then is packaging. It’s a marketing strategy: They just soften the edges.”

Since President Donald Trump’s election, Picciolini says, the number of requests that have come in to Life After Hate for support have grown ― from one to three requests per week to one to three per day. Most of these come from friends or family concerned that a loved one might be involved in extremism.

“White people need to solve the problem of white supremacy.”

It is not clear how well exit programs like Life After Hate work. Older exit programs in Europe, such as those developed for white supremacists in Sweden in the 1990s, have been criticized at times for “glorifying former extremists as ‘experts’” and not eliminating participants’ racism, according to the Southern Poverty Law Center.

But experts who have weighed in on Life After Hate consider it a useful contribution to the larger fight against white supremacism.

“Everything always has to be considered part of a larger toolbox,” Pete Simi, an author and expert on far-right extremists, said in an interview last year. “There’s never any program that’s ever going to be your catchall. But I think it is an important tool.”

SPLC’s Beirich, who has been studying white supremacism since 1999, told HuffPost last month that she sees Life After Hate as a solution.

“I don’t have anywhere to send a white supremacist if they come to me and start questioning the movement they’re involved in,” Beirich said. “Once you become a hard-core white supremacist, you lose all links to family and friends, there isn’t really a place for you to turn if you leave. I’m not trying to give anyone a pass, but if someone wants to get out of something bad, I want to help.”

A Life After Hate member echoed the need for more groups like it.

“There were years I was looking for a way out, and I didn’t have anywhere to turn,” former skinhead Logan Stewart told HuffPost. “It’s great support. Anything you need to talk about you can do that with them.”

For Picciolini, if there’s one thing that holds true when thinking of how to best tackle white supremacist hate, it’s this: The responsibility falls on white people.

“White people need to solve the problem of white supremacy,” Picciolini said. “It’s white people’s problem, we created it, and it’s a problem we need to fix.”

#donald trump #hate crimes #white supremacy #race #fascism #politics #government #antifa

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davidcarner · 7 years ago

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Chuck vs Truffaut Industries Ch 2, Complicated

A/N: So, most of you like it, some of you are a little irritated at Sarah (some of you all are flat mad). So, let's see what we can do about that. Backstory time. Sit back, get in your car, head up the 5 to Stanford, find your Arvil Lavigne CD (you know you had it), and put on Complicated. (you might need tissues) Ch 2, Complicated

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, but I'm hoping someone makes a movie soon.

Stanford, August 2002

"Are you and Jill coming to the party tonight?" Bryce asked.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Chuck replied. "I've got class, Buddy, see you later."

Bryce headed back across the quad when he was stopped by a man in a dark suit and sunglasses.

"Bryce Larkin," Langston Graham said. Bryce stopped short.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" Bryce asked.

"This is too important to trust to anyone else," Graham said. "I have an assignment for you."

"Sir, I have class," Bryce said, wanting to do his job, but knowing he couldn't get behind in his classwork. Graham smiled.

"The assignment is on campus," Graham said. "We have reason to believe that Fulcrum has infiltrated parts of the CIA and is already recruiting. We fear that one of your classmates may be an agent."

"Who?"

"Jill Roberts," Graham said, watching the color drain from Bryce's face.

"That's nuts, Sir," Bryce said. "All due respect," he added quickly. Graham nodded.

"Let's be sure," he said, handing him small electronic devices. "Plant these bugs in her purse, phone, residence, wherever you can. Let's be safe rather than sorry." Bryce nodded. "Bryce, above all else, keep Chuck Bartowski safe."

"Chuck, sir?" Bryce asked. "Why would he be in trouble?"

"I don't know that he is, but when we recruited you we also checked out Chuck," Graham explained. "We don't need him going through any more tragedy." Bryce nodded. "I don't want to keep you, Son, but you have to know this is the highest priority."

"I understand, Sir," Bryce said. Graham nodded and Bryce left. He watched him walk away, and pulled out a cell phone.

"Orion, it's done," Graham said. "You'll be surveilling as well? Fine, just get me my Intersect."

Three weeks later

"I can't believe it," Chuck said, taking a swig of another beer. "We got through the summer, that's what I was worried about. I mean I get it, I'm a nerd," he paused and his brows furrowed. "She's a nerd too, but a brainy nerd, you know?" he said, turning to Bryce. "I mean she's kinda outta my league, she's so smart," Chuck said, dreamily. "But to tell me she was doing half the football team, that's just harsh."

"Hypersexuality is such an unknown in the world of medicine," Bryce said, nursing his second beer. Bryce had lost count of how many Chuck had drank. The bug had found Jill was indeed a part of Fulcrum, and in an interesting twist, Graham agreed to keep Jill out of a hole if she would break up with Chuck. He said it had to be something that gave him no chance of ever wanting her back. Bryce wasn't sure her telling Chuck that she was having sex with half of the football team was necessary, but it had done the trick.

"I mean how does she even know some of those guys?" he asked, blowing air out of his cheeks.

"I have no idea, Buddy," Bryce said. He loved Chuck like a brother, but this was the third night of this, and it was enough. Bryce's phone rang. "I gotta take this man." Chuck grinned.

"AHHHH," Chuck said, grinning sloppily. "I know, is it Heather Jenkins, no, I know, Rebecca Stephens." He sat up quickly. "I know, I know, it's Suzie Pfephercorn."

"I don't know Suzie Pfephercorn, Chuck," Bryce said. Chuck thought a second, and then turned back to the bar.

"Yeah, you wouldn't," Chuck admitted. "She went to my high school. She had pretty eyes."

"Eyes, Chuck," Bryce said chuckling. "You can speak freely here," he said, as he patted Chuck's back standing up.

"Thanks, Buddy," Chuck said. "She had the greenest eyes," he said, his glossing over thinking back. "It was like looking into a field of grass in the spring after the rain." Bryce shook his head at his friend, grinning.

"Never change, Buddy, never change," he said walking outside. He called back the number. "Larkin, secure."

"Graham, secure," Graham answered.

"Please for the love of God, Sir, get me out of here," Bryce begged.

"That bad," Graham asked.

"Worse," Bryce answered.

"Hang on tonight, and I'll get my best agent there to watch him over the weekend," Graham answered. "I need you to take out that cell, Larkin, they may be targeting Bartowski."

"Understood, sir," Bryce answered. "Do I need to hand him off?"

"Negative, Bryce," Graham answered. "Leave tomorrow like planned. I have other eyes on him, but I need my best on him. She'll take care of him." Bryce was uncomfortable.

"Sir, no disrespect, but with everything Chuck's been through," Bryce began.

"Larkin, she's not going to seduce him," Graham answered. "She's good enough she doesn't have to do that."

"Thank you, sir," Bryce said. He heard a dial tone. He sighed and walked back in, and Chuck was still talking about Suzie's green eyes."

Simi Valley

Sarah stood in front of her mother's house, and just stared at it. How hard was it to walk up and ring a doorbell, or knock on a door….or better yet, hop in her Porsche and drive off? She sighed, walked up to door and rang the doorbell. The door opened.

"Sa-" Emma began. "What do I call you?"

"It's probably best to call me Sarah," she answered. Emma nodded and pulled her into a hug.

"Come in," Emma said, after they broke the hug. Sarah came in and joined her mom at the kitchen table. "So, what's your mission?"

"No, mission, Mom," Sarah answered, shaking her head. "I'm here for the football game, and to see you."

"Football?" Emma asked grinning. Sarah sighed.

"I mean I do like it, but…Harvard's not that great," she said, sighing. "I've been gone on the weekends for so many CAT Squad missions that I need to do something with the student body." She was silent for a second. "I could use the time to study," she grumbled under her breath.

"How is real school going?"

"Good, I'm going to graduate on time, maybe even early," she said grinning. Emma returned the grin, and then it left. "Mom, please don't," she said softly.

"What did he ever do for you?" Emma spit out. Sarah sighed.

"I have a deal with Graham," Sarah said. "He lets dad out on parole after five years, he clears his name after ten."

"Sweetie, your father doesn't deserve what you're doing for him," Emma said.

"He's my dad," Sarah said softly, tears in her eyes.

"I know, Sweetie, I know," she said, putting her arm around her. "I just hate this."

"I'm getting a college education, dad gets out, and you're okay," Sarah said. "I made the best with the hand I was dealt." Emma held her daughter close, and just looked up at the ceiling.

"I hate this," Emma said softly. Sarah gave a laugh.

"There's days I do too," she admitted. Her phone rang, she groaned, and rolled her eyes. "I've got to take this." Emma nodded, let her go, and Sarah walked to her room.

"Walker, secure," Sarah said.

"I need you to go to Stanford," Graham said.

"I'm going for the game Saturday," she said.

"I need you to go now," Graham said. "We have a high priority target. He's a civilian and he may be in danger, I need you to get close to him and keep him in your sight for the next several days."

"Sir," Sarah began, bile rising in her mouth.

"Sarah, I'm not suggesting what you're worried about," Graham said. "You know me better."

"I know, Sir, it just sounded…yes, Sir, I understand," Sarah said.

"I'll text you the substation address there and the code of the day, they'll have your dossier ready," Graham said. "Sarah, this is a good guy. He is a citizen that's had a terrible hand dealt to him in life, and he needs your protection, that's why I'm sending you, you're my best."

"I'll protect him, Sir," she replied. With that, the call ended. Sarah walked back into the kitchen. "I've got to go." Sarah saw her mom's face. "I'm going to go protect a civilian, it should be little danger." Emma hugged her.

"If you let him rot, no one would blame you," she said.

"I would," Sarah said softly. Emma hugged her tighter.

"You're a better daughter than he ever was a father," Emma said. Sarah laughed as she pulled away.

"Mom, that we can agree on," she said. They said their goodbyes, she climbed into her car, and off she went to Stanford.

The next morning

Chuck was sitting on a bench just looking over the campus. It was Thursday. There would be a lot of parties tonight, and tomorrow night, and Saturday after the game. His plan was to partake of all the free alcohol he could. His brain and stomach wasn't agreeing with that idea right now. He was watching the blonde walk across the quad. She had a map and she had crossed it twice already. It was possible she was lost. He was going to say something to her the next time she passed, but he hadn't seen her again, so he didn't worry about it. He gave a deep, contemplative sigh.

"I mean I passed by twice, you could have said something," the voice came behind him. "Are all you Stanford guys jerks?"

"I'm sorry," Chuck said, never turning his head. "I've been nursing this amazing hangover all morning, and I'm processing on about one quarter speed." She came around him, and plopped on the bench, she studied him for a minute. She sniffed the air, and Chuck laughed.

"Nope, no vomit, and I showered," Chuck said.

"You still smell of alcohol," she said.

"Probably three straight days of drinking," he said. She raised an eyebrow. There was silence for a moment.

"Now see, you can't do that," she said. He turned slowly towards her and lifted his sunglasses, a curious expression on his face. She grinned at him, and Chuck forgot about why he had been drinking. There sitting in front of him was a real life angel. He thought Suzie whatsherface had amazing eyes, they were nothing compared to the girl in front of him. They were blue…a stormy blue, like they would change with her mood, and the grin….he could get lost there forever.

"Chuck Bartowski," he said, offering his hand. She raised an eyebrow. "My parents were sadists." She laughed and shook his hand. Chuck was really wondering why he had been drinking. This amazing woman was laughing at his joke. He just stared at those eyes…and then he realized he might be seen as creepy. "Sorry," he said, as he quit staring into her eyes. "Hung over, not processing."

"I think that's the first time I've ever had my eyes stared at," she said, a smirk on her face. Chuck shrugged.

"What can I say, they're a gateway into the soul," he said. She studied him for a minute.

"Jenny Burton," she said. "I'm supposed to be here with a bunch of friends from Harvard to see the game, and they ditched me." Chuck looked shocked. "Vegas," she said with a grin. Chuck nodded. "So I have no idea where I'm going. Any chance you could show me around?" He looked at her in surprise. "You intrigue me, Chuck Bartowski, and you can finally tell me why you've been drinking for three days."

"My ex-girlfriend was banging half of the football team," Chuck said. Sarah didn't know how to respond. "I'm not sure why just half," he said, and glanced over at Sarah. She couldn't help herself, a fit of laughter burst out of her.

"I mean she only did half the job," Sarah said, giggling.

"Right?" Chuck replied. "She's probably not worth the drinking."

"Probably?"

"She's not," Chuck said, nodding. Sarah stood up and offered him her arm.

"Take me to breakfast," she said. "You could probably use some food that's not liquid form." Chuck stood and took her arm.

"You're exactly right," he said.

}o{

Sarah was trying to not fall out of the chair laughing.

"So, wait," she said, trying not to snort. "You actually call him, Awesome."

"Oh, yeah, everything he does is awesome. Climbing mountains, jumping out of planes, flossing," Chuck said, as Sarah fought off another fit of giggles. "Wait until you meet him." Chuck realized he was assuming a lot. Sarah just smiled. "So what about your closet and skeletons?"

"I am relatively free," she said.

"That's good, I have so much baggage I need my own personal baggage handler," he said.

"Maybe I could be your baggage handler," she said. Sarah kept her face neutral but inside, she was losing it. What was she doing? She was part of the CAT squad, this was a just a civilian, true, a civilian that life had taken a dump on, but a civilian. He wasn't being suave, or trying to get in her pants, and she was caving from honesty? Was she cut out for the CIA life? Chuck was grinning at her.

"You would be the most attractive baggage handler I've ever seen," Chuck said.

"Thank you," she said.

"Don't let it go to your head," he said, grinning. "Have you seen some of them?" She threw a napkin at him, grinning. "Seriously, you have the perfect life?"

"My dad," she said shrugging. Chuck nodded. "I mean nothing as bad as you, your sister raised you."

"But," Chuck said. Sarah grinned, nodded, and thought why not? She'll never see him again after this weekend.

"My dad and I have problems, and it's caused problems between me and my mom," she said. Chuck looked at her. "What?"

"We both know that's not the full story, but that's okay," he said, his smile on full blast. "I've got to earn that story." She leaned forward resting her chin on the back of her hand.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" she asked.

"By showing you every guy at Stanford isn't a jerk," he said. She grinned at him, and then her smile fell. "What's wrong?"

"Well, my friends and I all had hotel rooms booked, but now…" she said, shrugging.

"You trust me?" he asked. "I know you barely know me, but my roommate is gone for the weekend, and if you can handle me being in the same room with you, you can have his bed," he said. She began to smile. "Before you do, he's a bit of a player, so maybe we should find some different sheets." She laughed out loud.

}o{

For the next two days, the two were inseparable. Sarah retrieved her bag from her beat up car provided by the CIA substation. They went to the party Thursday night, Chuck didn't drink, and he and Sarah talked all night. They dozed off in Chuck's bed, on top of the covers, fully clothed, watching a movie, Thursday night. Chuck skipped classes again Friday (he was going to have to kill himself the next few weeks making up all he had blown off) and he and Sarah hung out all day. Friday night was the big fraternity party, and Sarah constantly had someone give her a fresh drink. All the guys were so thankful that someone had pulled Chuck out of his funk. They all were calling her Chuck's girl, and she was playing along, teasing him, and loving every time she caught a blush on his cheeks. She was feeling all the effects of the alcohol, Chuck, and his friends encouraging her, that when she made her way to their room that night, she didn't have it in her to deny herself.

"Jenny, what are you doing?" Chuck asked.

"I'm going to show that idiot ex-girlfriend of yours how stupid she was for cheating on you," Sarah said, slightly swaying, trying to line up his lips for another kiss. How did this nerd kiss so well? Chuck took a deep breath.

"Jenny, you're drunk and we can't do this," Chuck said.

"Why not?" she asked. "I know how, and if you don't know I can teach you," she said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Jenny, not like this," Chuck said, hating his moral code. "Not like this."

"You're right, I've got too many clothes on," she said, grinning. Chuck blew out a breath.

"Okay, let's try this, you go over there, wait for me under the covers," Chuck said. "I'm going to go brush my teeth and I'll be right back." Sarah smiled.

"That's the spirit," she said, patting his cheek. "Hurry back," she said, stumbling into the bed. Her shirt was flying off, as Chuck sprinted out the door. He shut the door and turned and saw one of his fraternity brothers smiling at him and shaking his head.

"She's drunk, wants to, and you won't," he said. Chuck nodded. "Dude, if you ever want to date my sister, I'm cool with it." Chuck laughed softly.

"For the record, I hate myself," Chuck said. His fraternity brother laughed, patted him on the arm, and headed downstairs. Chuck wondered how long he should wait, when he heard a sound coming from his room. He grinned and opened the door, and there was Jenny Burton, snoring. She had one leg sticking out from under the covers. He stared at it, and then jerked his eyes away, refusing to follow it to its eventual end. He walked over, and managed to get the leg in bed without seeing anything. He walked over to his bed, thought about changing clothes, but decided against it, just in case. He crawled into bed, and went to sleep.

}o{

Chuck woke up, hearing Sarah tossing and turning. Sunlight was starting to pour into the window. Sarah suddenly sat up with the blanket held tightly against her.

"Oh, God," she said, looking under the sheet. She turned and looked over at him. "Chuck," she said, her face frantic.

"For the record, that's the first time you uttered that phrase in this room today," Chuck said, shaking his head no. She took a second to process what he was saying, and then the giggles began. They turned into full fledge laughter from both of them.

"Funny," she said. Chuck shrugged. "About last night," she began.

"Please don't apologize," Chuck said. She looked at him. "You have pulled me out of the biggest funk in the world, and I should have watched out for you better last night, my frat brothers…they were hoping I'd…you know." She grinned at him.

"Thank you for being a gentleman," she said, grinning shyly. Chuck nodded.

"I need to take a shower…a cold one," he said.

"Was that necessary?" she asked.

"You offered to teach me last night," Chuck said. Sarah hid her face in her hand. "Jenny, it was fine, it happens, but I need to be totally honest with you, if you weren't drunk last night…" Sarah stared at him, and then she winked. "And Bob's your uncle!" he yelled shutting the door, Sarah laughed.

}o{

They had spent the day around campus, holding hands, and Sarah found herself finding ways to wrap Chuck's arm around her where she could. She was falling for him, and she knew she couldn't, she shouldn't. She was. During the game she found Chuck's arms around her from behind, and after it was over they walked to the frat house. The party was in full swing, but they ignored it and went upstairs. She shut the door, and locked it. Chuck looked at her nervously.

"Jill, was an idiot," she said, grinning.

"Yeah?" he asked. She closed the distance between them quickly and attacked his lips. This was what she wanted to do. A part of her hated herself. They had no chance at a future, and she wanted one. She wanted a life where she could meet Chuck Bartowski, date him, fall in love, marry him, and have 2.5 kids and a white house, red door, and a white picket fence. She hated her dad so much right now, and she loved this man in front of her. A little girl today had lost her balance, fallen, and spilled her drink. After Chuck made sure she was okay, and they found her parents, he had gotten her another one. She hated her dad so much.

"Chuck, I'm not drunk tonight," Sarah said.

"I'm not either," Chuck replied, grinning, she returned the grin.

}o{

It was around 4 when she heard her text go off. She unwrapped herself from Chuck and gave him a long look. What had happened last night…magical. She hated what had to happen next. She got her phone, saw that the threat had been neutralized, and she could come home. She had thought about how this would happen for a long time, and while she hated it, it had to happen. She got dressed, wrote a note, kissed Chuck softly on his head, ran her fingers through his curls, and then said the words she needed to say.

"I love you, Chuck Bartowksi," she said softly. She grabbed her bag, slipped out the door, and headed to the CIA substation.

When Chuck woke in the morning, he knew she was gone, he could feel it. Part of him ached. Ached like he never had before. He saw the note, and picked it up.

Chuck,

I hate leaving, but what I hate more is not letting you know how to contact me. Jill is an idiot, never forget that. Never forget that you are loved. I will always carry a piece of you with me. I know one guy at Stanford who is definitely not a jerk.

Love,

Jenny Burton

Chuck held the letter next to him. He carefully folded it and put it in his wallet.

"I love you too, Jenny," he said.

}o{

2 week later, Stanford

"Bryce, I'm in," Chuck said, happy as could be. He was going to find her.

"All right, Buddy, I knew you could do it," he said. Bryce had a feeling he knew what had happened. Some poor CIA agent came into Chuck's life, and had got turned upside down. She hadn't been prepared for the heartwarming that this nerd possessed. Chuck's fingers stopped typing. "Found her?" he asked with a smile.

"Jenny Burton doesn't exist," Chuck said dejectedly. "There is no Jenny Burton at Harvard," he said, turning to Bryce. "Why would she lie about her name?"

}o{

6 week later, Langley

"Walker, good to see you," Graham said. "Have a seat."

"I'm pregnant, sir," Sarah said.

"How did this happen?" Graham asked. Sarah was in no mood.

"Well, when a woman and a man-" she saw the look on his face and stopped. I blame Chuck for that. I wonder if his kid is messing with my mind. Part of her smiled at that thought. "My assignment at Stanford."

"Sarah, that was a great sacrifice," Graham said, struggling to keep his emotions.

"Sir, it was my choice," she said. "I want to keep this baby."

"And the father?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I don't know," she said softly.

"Why don't you give it a week and then we'll talk, but as for now, you are an analyst." She nodded and left. Graham picked up the phone and made a call. "Orion, you should know, the agent I sent to watch your son, they…she's pregnant." He listened for a minute, and his mouth fell open. "You don't know that she's like your wife! You've never met her." He sighed and blew out a breath. "I understand Orion, he'll not be told, but I better have that intersect soon, or I'll call him personally. Do you understand? Goodbye." Graham hung up his phone, sat there a second, stood up quickly, and with an arm knocked everything off his desk in a rage. He sat back down with his head in his hands. "They don't deserve this."

}o{

A week later

"Sarah, have you decided about Bartowksi?" Graham asked. She shook her head. "Sarah, he's a civilian. You didn't tell him your name, you're a CIA agent, and your family's past, do you think he'd want to be a part of that?" She shook her head, tears coming out of her eyes. "I think deep down you know." She nodded.

"I won't tell Chuck," she said. She left a few minutes later. Graham pulled out a flask.

"Of all the things I've done in this job, this feels like the worst," he said.

}o{

One year later

Sarah stormed into Graham's office.

"What the hell!?" she screamed. "He got expelled from Stanford!?"

"Sarah, calm down," Graham said.

"Calm down!? I have that man's child, who he can't know about and you want me to be calm because one of your agents got him expelled!?"

"How do you know about this anyway?" he asked his eyes narrowing. Sarah realized she was caught.

"He's my child's father, I can't not know," she said. Graham's face softened.

"Sarah," he said softly. She was near tears.

"She lives an hour from his sister's apartment," she said, crying. "I only get to see Molly a little each month, he could be there with her."

"You know it's not for the best," Graham said, sick to his stomach.

"I know," she said. "I made a deal with you, one I will honor." Graham nodded.

"He's already out," Graham said. Sarah looked up at him. "We had a deal, I honored it. Now, it's time for you to go to the Farm and finish your training.

"What about the CAT squad?" she asked.

"Without you, it wasn't the same," he said. She nodded and left.

}o{

One year later. Ice Cream shop, New York City

"I'll have a scoop of Butter Pecan," the man said.

"And two scoops of Rocky Road in a cup," Sarah said, behind him. He turned around and grinned at her. He turned back to the cashier.

"You heard my darlin'. Two scoops," he said. They went and sat. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Dad," Sarah said.

"It's Jack Burton today," Jack replied, winking.

"Ahh, playing the hits," she said, grinning.

"Talk," he said, watching her. She gave him a look. "What? I still know all your tells." Sarah sighed and told him about the deal she made with Graham, Chuck, and the baby.

"And, now, in two months or so, they're going to give me a red test. I have to kill someone, Dad, someone very dangerous, but someone," she said. Tears were in her eyes.

"Sarah, you're not a murderer," Jack said. "That's not you. Cons, protecting people, all the rest, is fine, but killing someone, bad guy or not, that's not you." She smiled and he laid his hand on hers. "You know this, so why come ask me?"

"Because a girl needs her dad," she said. "Even when he is a bad one." She grinned, but he looked at her seriously.

"Then why haven't you told that schnook?" Jack asked. "Because we both know he'd be a better one than I am." Sarah put her hand to her mouth. "Darlin' tell him. I don't think he's gonna care."

"But she's sixteen months old," Sarah said.

"Better late than never."

}o{

The next day, Langley

"Sarah, what can I do for you?" Graham asked, knowing what was coming.

"I can't pass the red test," Sarah said. "Too much has changed in my life."

"I know," Graham said. "And I know why you stayed on. I should have done away with our deal then."

"So, what do we do?" Sarah asked, terrified.

"Stay away from Bartowski for the next four years and your father's record is expunged." Sarah's eyes bugged out of her head. "There's still some heat on him," Graham said. "Stay away for four years, your father stays out of prison." Sarah nodded. "We'll finish all the paperwork tomorrow." Sarah got up and left. Graham picked up his phone.

"Orion, I've gotten what you wanted, but this is sick," Graham said. "You are purposely breaking up another family. Why don't you give them a chance instead of projecting your problems onto them? Fine! Just get me my damn Intersect!"

}o{

A few weeks later, Simi Valley, Christmas

"Look at you, holding your girl," Emma said to Sarah. "Sarah, your dad wouldn't want this." Sarah had tears in her eyes.

"Look, in four years I'll go see him and explain all of it," she said. "Then we'll see."

"Sarah," her mom began. Sarah shook her head.

"There's no chance of an us," she said softly. "I've already messed it up too bad."

"Is he seeing anyone?" Emma asked. Sarah shook her head. "How do you know?" Sarah wouldn't look at her, as she looked away sheepishly. "Have you wondered why?" Sarah didn't want to, but she grinned.

"He's very into his career right now," Sarah answered.

"Didn't you say he worked at the Buy More for $11 an hour?" Emma asked.

"He's working on other stuff," Sarah said. Emma shook her head.

"Dada," Molly said, pointing at the picture of Sarah and Chuck from that weekend.

"He is," Sarah said. "One day, baby, one day."

}o{

Four months later, Echo Park

She slowly opened the Morgan door. She had done this a half a dozen times the last six months. She should just tell him, and damn the consequences. She walked quietly right beside him.

"Jenny," he mumbled, a grin on his face. She felt things move in her. She softly stroked his hair, leaned down, and kissed his head.

"I love you, Chuck. Nothing's changed," she said softly and went to the window. "I'll be back in a few weeks," and with that she left.

}o{

Three months later

"And you're telling me the CIA is telling them if my granddaughter doesn't meet her father, I keep the deal?" Jack asked. Emma nodded. "Screw that."

"Gwanpa," Molly said.

"Do you want to see Dada?" Jack asked Molly.

"See Dada!" Molly yelled, and clapped.

"Jack, are you sure?" Jack reached over and put his hand on Emma's.

"Emma, I've screwed this family up enough, isn't it time I make things right?" Emma smiled at him.

"You were always a schnook, but you're my schnook," Emma said. "And I think I have just the idea."

}o{

This morning

"Ray, Emma Truffaut here. Yes, I know you're coming in, but my IT guy was looking at it, and he says it's a big deal. We're on a time crunch, and I was told about a Chuck Bartowski that is supposed to be the best, do you think there is any way you could get him? Really. Of course I need that for the building. Absolutely we can purchase that. Thanks. Oh, and Ray, don't let Chuck know we asked for him. Thanks." Emma smiled as she hung up and looked at Molly.

"It's time we straighten this mess out, sweetie."

}o{

Now

“I guess you did know where he was all along,” Emma said. Sarah gave her a sad smile as she brushed his hair with her hand.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “And I know that you did this on purpose.” Emma just grinned.

“She trusts him,” Emma said.

“Dada hurt his head?” Molly asked, coming over to brush his hair like Sarah was.

“He’s okay baby,” Sarah said.

“Dada come home?” Molly asked. Tears were in Sarah’s eyes as she looked up at Emma.

“Perhaps I didn’t think this out,” Emma said.

“Dada wake up,” Molly said, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Chuck opened his eyes and looked at Molly and then Sarah. “Dada!” Chuck looked at Sarah.

“99.2%?” he asked. Sarah shrugged. Chuck looked at Molly then to Sarah.

“I think we need to talk,” Sarah said.

A/N: Still mad at Sarah? Until next time.

#Chuck #Sarah #MOLLY!#Charah #fanfic #fanfiction #Chuck vs Truffaut Industries

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