Bartowski Apartment – Kitchen
Ellie stood in front of her brother, arms folded, expression locked firmly in big-sister interrogation mode.
"You've been working at this think tank for months, Chuck, and I still haven't met your boss. Charles Carmichael—the big man himself. If you're really working under him, I want to meet him."
Chuck froze mid-pour, coffee mug hovering halfway to the counter like gravity had taken the night off.
"Uh… well, he's… very private. Doesn't really do the whole social-interaction thing."
Ellie didn't blink.
"Private… or imaginary?"
He forced a laugh that came out half a beat too late.
"Totally real. Completely real. I'll… uh… talk to him."
"Dinner. Tomorrow night. No excuses."
She walked out like a judge delivering a sentence.
Chuck stared into his coffee.
"…Fantastic. Dinner with a fictional person. What could possibly go wrong?"
Carmichael Industries – R&D Lab
Casey stood across the table, already irritated—and Chuck hadn't even finished explaining.
"You want me to do what?"
Chuck held up the latex mask like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
"Come on, it's brilliant. You wear the mask, use the modulator, and boom—Charles Carmichael shows up for dinner. Five minutes, tops."
"I am not playing your imaginary billionaire," Casey growled.
Sarah leaned casually against a workbench, arms crossed, enjoying this far too much.
"Think of it as cover maintenance," she said smoothly. "Ellie's curious. Better you than Chuck trying to fake confidence and facial hair."
Chuck pointed at her. "Hey, I could—"
"You can't," Sarah cut in.
Casey snatched the mask.
"If I agree to this, it never happens again."
Chuck grinned. "Deal."
Casey put it on.
The transformation was instant.
Gone was John Casey. In his place stood Charles Carmichael—distinguished, composed, effortlessly commanding. Salt-and-pepper hair, clean lines, and that mustache that screamed I've closed billion-dollar deals and survived jungle warfare.
Casey looked in the mirror.
"…This feels ridiculous."
Chuck's grin widened.
"No. This feels perfect. Pierce Brosnan meets Tom Selleck. You're unstoppable."
Sarah smirked.
"Try not to declare war during dessert."
Bartowski Apartment – Dinner
Ellie and Devon had gone all out.
Candles flickered. Wine breathed. Music played softly in the background like this was some upscale dinner party instead of a cover operation held together by duct tape and panic.
Devon bounced on his heels.
"This is huge. Chuck's mysterious boss finally shows up? Babe, this is legendary."
The doorbell rang.
Chuck opened it.
And there he was.
Charles Carmichael.
Tall. Polished. Charcoal suit cut like it was tailored by someone who charged too much. Calm authority radiated off him like heat.
"Dr. Bartowski," Casey said smoothly, voice perfectly modulated. "It's an honor to finally meet you."
Ellie blinked.
"…Wow. So you're Charles Carmichael."
He inclined his head with effortless charm.
"Indeed. And your brother has been instrumental to our operations. The Think Tank would be lost without him."
Chuck stood there like a kid being praised at a school assembly.
"Uh—thank you, sir. That's… very kind."
Ellie's expression softened immediately.
"See? That's what I like to hear."
Devon shook Carmichael's hand enthusiastically.
"Dude—you look like you could sell me a timeshare and save me from a helicopter crash. Rugged and classy."
Casey didn't miss a beat.
"That is… an accurate assessment."
Chuck nearly choked.
Dinner Chaos (Polished Edition)
Ellie leaned forward, fully invested now.
"So what exactly is the Think Tank?"
Casey answered like he was briefing a war council.
"We specialize in high-level problem solving. Government contracts. Private sector consulting. Strategic infrastructure."
Chuck nodded along like he understood half of that.
Ellie beamed.
"That sounds incredible."
Sarah sat quietly at the end of the table, pretending to scroll her phone—shoulders shaking slightly.
At one point, Ellie tilted her head, studying Carmichael closely.
"You know… you remind me of someone."
Chuck froze.
"A mix between Pierce Brosnan… and Tom Selleck."
Chuck immediately grabbed his glass.
"Yep—must be the mustache."
Casey's glare nearly melted the mask.
Later – Alley Outside
The second the door closed behind them—
Casey ripped the mask off and shoved it into Chuck's chest.
"Never. Again."
Sarah lost it completely, laughing now.
"Oh come on—you were amazing."
Chuck grinned, relief flooding through him.
"She bought it. Completely. You were perfect—like Bond meets Magnum P.I."
Casey stepped closer, voice low and lethal.
"Next time your sister wants to meet Carmichael… you're the one wearing the mask."
Chuck raised both hands.
"Fair. Completely fair."
Sarah smirked, already walking away.
"I'll bring popcorn."