Disclaimer: Chuck doesn't belong to me and any similarities to characters owned by a certain Comic company don't belong to me either

A/N Okay...So this is a story that I can't get out of my head. At the moment it's more of a one shot than anything else but if people enjoy it I've got some more ideas for this scenario that I can play with. It's loosely inspired by a story I read over in the Ranma fandom. It's kinda an AU and that should become pretty clear very soon. Not really considering this to be a CrossOver as the characters really are all Chuck people...just a bit...different.

Life used to be a Lot more simple. Okay, if we're willing to go back about ten years ago life was very simple, but if we can just go back two years ago my life was complicated but simpler than it is now. I'm babbling. Everyone always says I babble too much. Y'know what. To hell with them. I've spent an evening being shot at, having to hide behind boxes and all the while knowing that if it was just me this wouldn't be a problem. I think I'm entitled to a little mental babbling. Not like there's anyone out there I can talk to about this anyway.

Ellie and the Captain gave me this really weird look as I came in. Understandable to be honest, soaked to the bone and dripping water onto the front porch before slipping my shoes off and shucking the sodden jacket from my shoulders. I'm a little amazed they bought the whole "freak rain storm" thing but on a night like tonight I'm glad they're just not asking many questions. I nudge my computer mouse and my monitor lights up displaying an open chat window with about a dozen messages from Morgan asking if I was there.

I remove the rest of my clothes and, 'accidently', manage to throw them over the bugs that Casey has in my room. Satisfied that I now have some privacy I stalk over to the bathroom, turn the shower taps up as much as I can stand and let the steaming water pound my muscles into the consistency of overdone pasta.

As I stand in the shower my thoughts again return to the days pre-Bryce's lovely e-mail. Okay. So I might have had to deal with bizarre college teachers with giant metal arms glued to their backs but I didn't have to worry about the Government being particularly watchful about where Chuck Bartowski went late at night.

Thing is. I'm not normal. A long time ago I was at this big science geek thing and something happened to me. The details of what happened aren't that important right now but, long story short, I ended up with certain abilities...Okay. That sounds stupid. Saying abilities makes me sound like I developed an unusual skill for knowing where north was at any time, or I could tell my taste the exact E numbers in any popular soda...actually, that's one of Morgan's abilities, it's weird but uncannily accurate. Let's be honest. I have powers. I know how ridiculous that sounds but I do! I can stick to walls. Not in the "I am a shadow hugging the wall" kinda way either, I mean literally, sixty feet up, climbing walls using only my fingertips and the tips of my booties. I can make jumps which an Olympic champion would turn green with envy over and...well..I'm strong. I know Casey thinks he's the strongest on the team but can he lift up a nerd herder? I don't think so. When...When I first got these gifts I was a kid and...I was stupid. Someone close to me died. I made up my mind that I wasn't going to let that happen again.

The room's filled up with steam now and I think I can hear Ellie knocking on the door. I wrap a towel around my waist and, flashing her my best sheepish smile, make my way back to my room. Inside I sit down on the bed and towel my hair dry.

Before Bryce's email I could help people without that much trouble. Okay, so the police weren't too happy about me but, when you can swing around on the twentieth floor, the police aren't as big a concern as you might think. With Casey, and sometimes Sarah, watching, I'm damned lucky if I can sneak out more than twice a week.

I pull a trunk out from under my bed and, after pausing to make sure that my head isn't tingling open it and begin taking out old comic books until I reach the hidden partition at the bottom of the case. Inside is another, smaller box. I fish the key out of an old copy of Amazing Fantasy and unlock it.

I can't very well go beating up bad guys as Chuck can I? This is my face when I go out. Red and Blue. In retrospect it might have been a bad move to make my outfit quite as flashy as this. Can't tell you the number of times I've had close calls with Casey, swear the man's more blood hound than man some days. Underneath the white-lensed mask and body suit are my favourite toys. Twin metal segmented wrist bands. Each band has a small piece of metal sticking out, about 3 inches long, which ends in a small metal circle about the size of a quarter.

I do a quick maintenance routine to make sure they're working properly. Before hiding them away. I shouldn't go out tonight. After tonight's CIA activities my other secret life could use a break. I lie there in bed for about ten minutes telling myself this before I'm up and pulling on my costume. Just a couple of swings around the neighbourhood. Make sure everything's okay. With great power comes great responsibility and It's my responsibility to protect the people in this town.

I just wish I had someone I could talk to about this kind of thing.

As I trudge up the corridor to my hotel room I glare at all the rooms I pass. They all get to sleep; they get to rest nice and quiet in their queen sized beds, dreaming about business meetings, holidays and affairs. Me? What do I get? I get to end my evening being thrown off the pier into the sea to avoid being caught in the backlash caused by my trigger happy partner shooting the main fuel reserve in the warehouse.

All I want right now is to get inside and rest. Just...pop a DVD on. Order room service and stop thinking. I slide the key card into the lock and step inside. Within moments I've slung my jacket into the bathroom and the rest of my clothes soon join it. I concentrate for a second on my appearance and I feel a familiar buzzing of energy surround me.

It sounds stupid but in some ways this is one of my favourite powers. After a long day, when you just wanna curl up and go to bed it's nice sometimes to just be able to give your body an instant shower. I look down at myself and smirk slightly, admiring myself in the mirror. As costumes go some might say it's a little flirty but I like it. A Black one piece with a yellow lightning bolt crossing it, thigh high boots and elbow length gloves with a bright red sash tied at my waist. Oh, and the mask. Can't forget the small domino mask. I concentrate again and my costume has gone, leaving me clean and dry. I quickly pull on a robe and collapse down onto the bed before flicking through various channels.

Some movie about a Jockey, film about some Hackers, a news interview show, I pause for a moment to hear some newspaper editor, with one of the strangest moustaches I've ever seen, ranting on about some 'masked menace' and continue flicking on until I reach a late night showing of a Kung Fu Film. What? Just because I'm a girl I can't like action flicks?

As I lie there thinking about the mission tonight a part of me is telling me I could have done it better. Okay, flying down there, bullets barely touching me and throwing energy blasts every which way might not have been as subtle as our usual missions but it would have been quicker. And more fun. Besides, we blew up the damned warehouse, can't really claim we were subtle.

I stare at the screen for about ten minutes letting the lightning fast, and may I say blatantly fake, kicks entertain me until my stomach decides to announce that if it doesn't get some food soon then there will be trouble. I grab the room service menu and start dialling, ready to phone through an order of burger and fries, when an automated voice kindly informs me that the room service facility closed fifteen minutes ago. Wonderful. I wander over to the mini-bar, grumbling to myself. As I open the small fridge a grin stretches over my features. When did he sneak that in...Somehow Chuck has managed to hide a small tub of half baked Ben & Jerry's ice-cream in there with a note saying "In case of emergency". He's always able to sneak things like this around Castle or here. One day I'll catch him in the act and work out how...

I collapse back on the bed, spoon and carton in hand, and continue with my veg out evening. I glance out of the window at the sky line. Its nights like this. Quiet ones, where I'm still feeling the adrenaline rush, that I really miss DC. After a night like tonight back home I could go out on patrol, channel my energy into something productive but here...nothing I can do. There are already a few people who are a bit suspicious about me without a well known vigilante running around the same town Sarah Walkers staying in.

I'd only ever operated in Washington since I got caught in that weird explosion and I got these powers but it sure would be nice to go out for a fly...Just..Relax, blow off some steam...See what the LA sky line's really like from above. I put the tub of ice-cream down on the bed side table and stand up glaring out at the night sky.

No one knows what it's like. To be able to do all these things. To be able to help people and actually be extraordinary. As I feel the familiar shimmer take over my body, my gown being replaced with my other outfit, I keep telling myself that it's just this once. I've been good for months; just one flight isn't going to make any difference.

I just wish I could talk to someone about this.

There are days I really hate my job. This is one of them. Walker and the Moron had gotten themselves in over their heads. The only way out was to blow up the whole damned warehouse and hope I could shield them from the blast. Good News, turns out I can. Bad News, Getting a large piece of shrapnel in your back and then being thrown into the ocean? Turns out that hurts. I'd been able to cover up the damage pretty well in the car but now... I pulled off the jacket with a wince, did the same with the shirt. I glanced over my shoulder at the mirror and growled. My back was already trying to heal but, with the shards of metal still stuck, it wasn't having much luck. Can't say how many nights I've spent doing something similar to this. Pulling out bullets, tearing out shrapnel. Doesn't get any easier.

As I pull the last piece of sharp metal from my left shoulder blade I turn away. Some people might get a morbid fascination with watching what's about to happen. Me? It's happened too many times to be interestin' any more.

I shrug into a dressing gown, wincing slightly as my rapidly healing back stings in complaint, and sit down on one of the few chairs in the apartment. Pulling my laptop over I boot up the surveillance cameras from Bartowski's room. Looks like the idiot's thrown his clothes over them again. Sound coming through seems like he's in the shower.

Closing the laptop again I get up and get a cold beer from the fridge. I sit back down again, feel a slicing pain in my left arm and then use the long metal claw to open the bottle of beer.

Really was too damned close tonight. If Walker or Bartowski had spotted that he'd been hit by the explosion that could have lead to some awkward questions which in turn probably would have lead to Walker and, if he flashed, maybe Bartowski bringing up the M-word. They were both good kids but you could never be sure who'd react badly when they found out they were having lunch with a mutant. I drain the bottle and step over to the shower.

Standing, staring at my feet as the freezing spray pounds at my back, I watch the water, pinkish as it cleans the blood off my black, circle down the drain and disappear. If I'd have been able to do this mission my way, on my own, we wouldn't have had a problem. I coulda dispatched all targets before anyone knew I was there and, problem solved, no one getting shot, no one getting blown up, everyone nice quiet evening at home. That ain't in the cards for me though. Moron refuses to stay in the car. Walker gets her panties in a twist because Chucks in danger and before you know it we're all huddling behind a goddamn fridge hoping that none of the bullets will get through.

I step out of the shower. It's possible I'm being too harsh. Walker's stronger than I thought and, when all's said and done, a damned fine partner. Better than Wilson and a hell of a lot better than Creed. I have to stifle a growl at the thought of that bastard. Bartowski too. Not sure how but he spotted that sniper that was about to be in position before either me or Walker. I glare at my reflection. No matter what I do my hair always forms these two stupid curling points at the side of my head. After towelling my hair dry I do my best to pat the damned thing flat with some gel.

I should check Bartowski and get some rest...I should at any rate. I pull on some Jeans and a black T-shirt. I should write my report for Beckman and get that sent in. I pocket my wallet, keys and phone. I should be looking into any further leads from tonight and preparing a plan. I pull on my Jacket.

I most certainly shouldn't go out hunting and looking for a way to use this excess energy on some punks. I turn the monitor on; Bartowski's sleeping like a baby. I most certainly shouldn't go out looking for a fight and some scum bag to beat the hell out of. I open the door and step out into the night. I shouldn't. But I will. I'm the best there is at what I do and what I'm going to do tonight won't be pretty.

Would talk to someone about this side of me...But there's no one who knows what this kinda things like.

I have no idea if this is good but as I said, the idea wouldn't leave my head. If you think it's good please let me know. If you think it needs work, please let me know.

PS: Spider-man, Ms Marvel and Wolverine dont' belong to me.