An: This is basically what I think and or want to happen for the beginning of Season 3 of Chuck (based on the spoilers I've read and my own speculations) So if you don't want to read a story with potential storylines in it, then don't read this. I divided it up into five parts, and they all come from the Casting sides for episode one, Vs the Pink Slip.
*Update: Thank you for all the reviews, I found this one-shot to be too long as a single story. So I set each part as a separate chapter. Since many of you want me to continue, I think I'll write more short stories that might come as a prequel to Vs the Pink Slip (i.e. Chuck's training or what I think the traumatic thing between Chuck and Sarah was) or it will be future stuff like the second ep, Vs the Three Words. So bring on the Love Trapezoid, and Zac Levi's Old Testament Beard!
Here it is, enjoy.
1. Chuck vs. the Pink Slip
He rocked back and forth on the rickety chair, a hood covering his identity. He looked all around him; the place was creepy. Everything was covered in dirt, grime, and blood. It just screamed torture chamber.
A man sat on the opposite end of the table, considering whether or not he should kill the spy right then and there. His henchmen hovered by him, all of them hulky and imposing. At least somebody felt confident in having the upper-hand in this meeting.
"You have a lot of entrails coming here alone," the very scary Russian said and gestured to his six body guards.
The hooded man craned his neck to the side, assessing his opponents wearily. He nodded in agreement.
"Guts," he said flippantly, "I've got a lot of guts coming here alone."
Yuri, the Russian arms dealer grinned. He signaled to the nearest grunt to pull off the mystery guest's hood. As it fell onto his shoulders, the man hidden beneath was revealed.
"Agent Carmichael," Yuri greeted.
A very confident Charles Carmichael leaned back in his chair, and he coolly responded, "Call me Charles."
Before the Russian could retort, the superspy continued in the same controlled tone, "You have something that belongs to my boss, please give it to me."
Yuri laughed, "You think I would just hand it over to you? No big problem?" He saw that Carmichael was completely serious, "You show up in your fancy suit and no gun and what…I quiver in fear?"
Itching his ear absentmindedly, the spy listened to a woman's voice through his earwig.
-We've got a location on the case. It should be in the room with you.-
He looked over at a man standing beside Yuri, a metal briefcase clutched in his iron-locked hand.
"Give me the case…or else." He threatened in a menacing tone.
Yuri raised an amused eyebrow. "Or else. Or else what?" He stood up and drew his gun, "Or else I do this?" The muzzle was pointed right at Carmichael's temple. Yuri curled his finger around the trigger of the weapon.
-Your heart rate is spiking, Chuck. Remember to stay calm- The earwig buzzed.
Chuck took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He then looked up at Yuri and became perfectly calm and emotionless. He focused hard on the Russian until his eyes dilated and were overwhelmed in a flash.
His mouth curved into a mischievous grin, "No, I was thinking something more like this."
In a blur, Chuck stripped the gun from Yuri's hand. Now in his possession, the spy aimed firearm at the unlucky Russian. The six guards immediately raced to help their endangered boss, but Chuck cocked the gun and they froze.
"Whoa, there." He began with a charismatic smile, "Everyone take a nice big chill pill here and freeze. Ain't that right, Yuri?" He gave a sideways glance at his hostage. Yuri nodded stiffly. "Good. Now, Mikail I want you to move towards me and put the briefcase in my free hand."
Mikail looked at Yuri uncertainly. Chuck saw this exchange and rolled his eyes.
"Yuri agrees with me, Mikail."
Yuri nodded once again and his bodyguard slowly handed the case over to Chuck.
"Beautiful," he said pleased, "Now, here's when this gets tricky. I need you guys to draw your weapons. Not fast, but slow." The remaining henchmen were hesitant, "Don't look over at Yuri. He agrees."
The Russians all went for their guns simultaneously.
"Not fast but…" Chuck reminded them.
"Slow." They repeated in unison.
"Awesome," said Chuck, thrilled. "And remember, I can see all of you with my excellent peripheral vision." When no one made a move, "Okay, now put those guns on the floor."
Six guns clattered to the floor.
"Great job everybody!" He praised them, "We are on rails. Now someone needs to open the door. After that," he winked, "it's Perogi time."
When nobody offered to get the door, Chuck selected the unfortunate operative through a silent Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.
"Okay, Mikail, I nominate you."
Yuri suddenly snapped, "Stop!"
Miffed off at being so rudely interrupted, Chuck looked at Yuri irately, "Hey, Yuri, by the weight of this gun, I'm pretty sure you loaded it."
"Yes, I'm sure I did," he said smoothly, his eyes glinted like he knew a secret. "But I don't think you will take advantage of being armed and actually shoot me."
Chuck snorted, "What do you know? You say one more word and I'll put you down right now."
Yuri shook his head, "No. I see it in your eyes. I don't think you have real guts."
-Shoot him, Chuck- The General's voice was urgent.
Yuri challengingly crossed his arms and waited, "So do it. Shoot me."
-Shoot him now!-
Chuck frowned, he was losing all confidence. He felt sweat form on his brow and roll down his face.
Oh shit…
"You're sweating," the Russian pointed out.
His hands started to perspire.
Oh shit, shit, shit!
Yuri looked at his men and smiled, "get him!"
All at once, the men flew out and attacked Chuck. As one goon went for a gun, Chuck sidestepped his other assailants and whipped the man in the neck, sending him crashing in a heap. He spun around and kicked the second attacker, and then punched the next combatant in tandem.
There were two more men to subdue, but as he let his guard down for one moment…
Yuri whirled around and slammed his fist into Chuck. It cracked across his cheek and he fell back, startled. Touching his face alarmed, Yuri threw a second punch, but Chuck was ready; he kicked him as hard as he could, and Yuri was thrown into the table.
A concerned voice brought Chuck out of the heat of the fight, -What's happening, Chuck? Your heart rate just spiked. Are you okay?-
Obviously not okay, Chuck rubbed his swollen cheek. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he lied anyway, "I'm fine, really. I got hit."
-You're shot?!-
"No," Chuck replied agitatedly, "hit by a Russian fist. My face is throbbing."
The General sighed, -Get it together and head for the roof-
Thanks for caring, Diane.
Chuck stealthily stepped towards the door, hugging his body up against the wall. He turned the knob and it creaked open; he checked the darkened hallway. It was clear. He sighed gratefully and proceeded through to the next level.
Stairs….stairs….where can you possibly be?
He looked into dimly lit alley and smiled. A fire escape was at the far end of it.
Thank god.
Chuck quickly scanned the vicinity and entered the stairwell.
Once he had climbed up the several staircases leading up to the roof, Chuck broke out of the metal-encased door. He spilled out of the emergency escape and looked around.
Now what?
Yuri came up from behind him and before Chuck could defend himself, he pulled the trigger.
Click.
Chuck bowed his head ashamed when the lights signaled an end of the training course. Everything became illuminated. All of the former incapacitated Russians were all awake, rubbing their injuries. Yuri came up to Chuck and gave him an apologetic look.
A voice boomed throughout the scene, "That's all, Tom. Terminate the simulation."
"Copy that, Ma'am," he affirmed in his southern accent.
Tom reverted from posing as a Russian arms dealer and stood respectfully when his boss came blowing through.
Chuck exchanged a humiliated glance with his defense instructor.
"Well, this is embarrassing."
General Beckman looked at Chuck, a deep frown etched on her face. She was not happy at all.
"We are going to have a talk later, Agent Bartowski." She said Agent with sarcasm.
Chuck cringed inwardly.
Then she left, shaking her head.
Tom watched the NSA official disappear behind a door, leaving Chuck standing there, completely deflated.
"If it's any consolation, Chuck, I think ya did well."
Chuck inhaled deeply.
"All ya had to do was shoot me and you would 'a passed with flyin' colors."
The younger man buried his face in his hands and groaned, "God fucking dammit."
Tom scratched his head and nodded sagely. He walked to Chuck and patted his student's shoulder comfortingly, "Yeah, I hear ya."
"You were literally one mark away from completing your training!" A very emotionally pissed off woman shouted abruptly. She stomped pass Tom and pointed an accusing finger at Chuck. "How hard is it to just pull the trigger? I've been preparing you for this moment for the past three months, non-stop. Then you pull this shit on me?"
Chuck visibly sulked under the verbal abuse. Tom grimaced.
"Jess, sweetheart, y'all need to take a deep breath. Think of the baby." He told his wife.
Jessica seethed, still on fire, "No I won't, not until he gives me a valid answer as to why he left his balls back in California!"
Chuck lowered his gaze, upset.
"I don't know."
He sounded so dejected and disheartened that Jess cooled off. Her eyes softened and she brought her student in for a bone-crushing hug. Tom rolled his eyes.
"Its okay, Chuck," she said, her voice cracking until tears began to fall. "I know this is tough for you, but we will help you succeed. Tomorrow is another day."
Tom tentatively pulled his wife off of Chuck. Her emotions were going haywire, part of the inconvience of being pregnant he guessed.
"Honey, why don't ya go sit and wait outside for me?"
Jessica nodded reluctantly, wiping away her tears.
"Be strong, Chuck, and have faith." Then she left the two men alone.
Tom watched her leave and shook his head in disbelief, "If I had known she was gonna go crazy like that, I wouldn't of let her be in charge of teachin' you how control your emotions. Damn woman can't even get a hold of her own feelin's; it's just mood-swing after mood-swing."
"Three months ago, she wasn't that far along," Chuck inputted.
Tom stared at him oddly, "What does that gotta do with anythin'?"
"She's a great teacher, same with you, Agent Singer. Your wife prepared me as best as she could, and I really thought I had it too." He shrugged sadly, "but I guess it wasn't enough this time."
"Next time, Chuck, you got this."
Chuck turned to his sensei and bowed appreciatively, "Domo arigato."
Tom chuckled and ruffled the younger spy-to-be's short, if not just as messy hair. He remembered like it was yesterday when the kid came to him for his first training session. He was some lanky, nerdy wannabe with the most unruly hair he's ever seen. But now he looked at him, Tom Singer knew deep down inside that Chuck Bartowski was going to be a great spy.
-----
Later, Chuck unwillingly accompanied the tiny General to the basement or better known as his own living quarters for the last three months. She hit the light switch and offered her subordinate a seat. He took it and feared for his life. He was so god damn nervous.
"This isn't working out, Chuck." She said evenly.
Oh he was waiting for her to say that. He knew it was on the tip of her tongue during those horrible minutes they spent in silence as they descended down to his room.
But I'm not going to let her tell me off. I won't be rejected again. This is my fate, my destiny. I'm the Intersect and nothing's going to change that. I just have to explain to her that I just need more time and I'll be fine. Just fine.
"General, I agree," Chuck started out very slowly, "We've had setbacks, but let's not get stuck in the past here. I'm convinced I can be a great spy. I know that," he said with undying conviction.
"We've spent millions of dollars to get you up and running as our new Intersect Agent." Her voice became hard and calculating, "It's not working."
Okay, so I won't shoot someone. Big deal! I can do about a million other things no problem. And "its not working," I get that, so what do you propose we shall do, General? Hmmm? Because I only see one Intersect and that's me, thank Bryce Larkin for that…and my Dad too.
"Maybe my dad can help?"Chuck spoke up; he was more desperate than ever. "He built this computer."
General Beckman had enough. She stood up and laid out all her qualms, "The problem isn't with the computer, it's with you. The Intersect 2.0 was designed to go into a real spy, someone like Bryce Larkin--"
But Bryce is dead and you got stuck with me. Chuck Bartowski, former supervisor of the Nerd Herd and prisoner, oh I mean, asset to the US government.
"—It wasn't meant for a regular person—someone so emotional."
"So someone like me, you mean?" Chuck filled in the blank.
"Yes, Chuck, someone like you."
An unhealthy silence flooded the room.
"Where do we go from here?" He asked quietly.
Beckman's normal stern exterior grew soft and almost maternal. She really had hoped for the best with Chuck.
"You go home."
