Sarah vs the Day Off
A/N: The idea for this story came to me whilst I was mowing my lawn… I had my iPod in, obscenely loud to drown out the sound of the mower... of course... Anyways, Rage against the Machine shuffled on halfway through my mowing escapades and scared the bejeebers outta me. For some reason it was MUCH louder than the rest of the songs I'd been listening to. I may or may not have retreated to the Morgan.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one shot, my attempt to be funny.
I don't own Chuck or anything to do with the songs/artists featured in this story. I definitely, however, own any and all mistakes.
Compared to Chuck, Sarah's knowledge of music was pretty limited. Well, if she was honest, compared to anyone, even Casey who held true to his own musical niche of military band recordings and Cher, her musical knowledge was sub-par.
Lying on the bed she shared with Chuck, in the middle of the afternoon, her day off from her cover job and her real job wallowing into tedium, Sarah found herself, for one of the first times in her life, bored. Chuck still had 3 hours on his shift at the Buy More, she'd finished the leftover reports from their latest mission early this morning, and her workout had only passed the time to midday. For the last couple of hours, she'd been puttering around, doing a lot of nothing. She'd checked the TV, but nothing tickled her fancy. She'd tried to read one of the books Chuck had recommended to her, but she just couldn't get her head around the idea of giant sandworms terrorising people in weird helicopter thingys, and, to top things off, Ellie was at the hospital, so she couldn't even use the embarrassment of a cooking lesson to ease her boredom.
She sighed, turning her body so she lay on her side; head resting in the palm of her hand, Sarah let her eyes wander across to Chuck's vast assortment of vinyl and CDs that lined the far wall of their bedroom. Sarah had no idea where he'd found the time, let alone the money, to amass such a collection.
Slowly rising from her repose, Sarah padded her bare feet across to the 'wall of sound' as she had, on her journey from bed to wall, dubbed it. She let her fingers slide across the tops of the CD cases and vinyl jackets enjoying the feeling of crevices and bumps in them, and releasing a plume of dust from the latter for her troubles. Spluttering her way backward from the wall, Sarah waved her hands in front of her face, fighting a losing battle against the newly liberated dust cloud, backing her way squarely into Chuck's computer desk.
'Oh shit, Sarah thought, spinning on her heels, instantly forgetting about the dust war to bring her palms slamming down on either side of the desk, steadying it before anything fell.
Breathing a sigh of thankfulness that none of Chuck's computer gadgets had met an untimely demise, Sarah hung her head in relief, so she was facing downwards, directly between her hands. At Chuck's iPod.
'Huh', Sarah thought, straightening whilst keeping her eyes intent on Chuck's iPod, securely nestled in its speaker dock.
'I thought he usually listened to this in the herder on his way to work… Well, might as well see what he was listening to last…'
Putting her spy skills to practice, because even though it was her day off, she just couldn't help herself, Sarah tentatively poked the button in the middle of Chuck's iPod, causing the screen to suddenly burst to life. Sarah chuckled, she may be a little technically challenged sometimes, but she'd managed to get this thing running on the first go.
But no music came out. Sarah scratched her head vigorously, creating a dragged through hedge backward look of hair and peered at the still alight screen.
'Hmm… Rage against the Machine. Haven't heard of them before…' Sarah thought eyes dropped to a symbol at the bottom of the iPod that looked like the play and pause symbols side by side.
'That's gotta be the button', Sarah surmised, pressing it with more confidence than her last tentative prod.
Suddenly the speakers sprang violently to life.
"FUCK YOU I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME, ."
'SHIT, SHIT, SHIT. STOP. HOW DO I GET IT TO STOP?' Sarah panicked mushing all of the buttons on the device with her palm until silence finally echoed around the room.
'No wonder Chuck never stays in the car.' Sarah decided, a small, yet mischievous smile gracing her features as she let out a long breath. Crisis averted.
Having learnt her lesson the hard way, Sarah decided that she wasn't going to play another song until she knew who the artist, or the song, was.
So, for around 5 minutes -this being Chuck's iPod, and Sarah's limited musical education stemming mainly from cross state car rides with her father in the early days - Sarah simply stood in front of the iPod, pressing next over and over again, until she found something, or someone, she recognised.
'Oh', Sarah thought. 'David Guetta… Isn't he the one who sang that 'Everything' song? I remember that being on the radio... I liked that.'
Pressing play again, with her original reserve and respect for the musical device, a heavy bass line emanated from the speakers, more subdued than the previous string of obscenities that passed as a song, but not what Sarah was expecting.
Letting the music continue anyway, Sarah listened as the bass continued into some rap-style vocals that soon gave way to a beat that Sarah found herself bobbing her head to.
'Now this', Sarah mused as her sapphire eyes fell upon Chuck's Han Solo toy, 'this is something I can get into.'
Chuck clicked the lock button for herder 3 on his keys, and slowly began making his way to the courtyard. Today had been pretty rough, even on a Buy More scale. Jeff and Lester had been having a day long competition to see who could scan the most cleavage with company HHTs, Morgan was nowhere to be found, and Big Mike was busting his ass to repair the broken hard drives that had started to back up in the cage. Which was supposed to be Jeff and Lester's job anyway.
He was glad to get home to his beautiful girlfriend and some semblance of normalcy. Because even though Sarah was a spy, and she would never be 'normal' (not that Chuck minded that, in fact, it was one of the many reasons he loved her. Not to mention he found her mysteriousness to be quite sexy on occasion), she was a darn sight more normal than Jeff or Lester… Not that that was saying much.
His weary feet carrying him deeper into the courtyard, a strange screeching sound, reminiscent of cats fighting, met his ears - and music, really loud music…
'What the hell?' Chuck thought, panic rising through his body as he imagined Sarah being tortured in their own home by some huge muscle-bound, evil terrorist, who could probably pull her leg straight from her body and munch it for his tea, much like Pop-eye and spinach, without breaking a sweat.
'The music was probably intended to muffle her screams…'
Feeling a rush of adrenaline after his terrifying, although farfetched, mental visualisation, Chuck sprinted the rest of the way to their apartment, hurdling the side of the fountain in the process. Practically smashing the door off its hinges as soon as he was able, Chuck frantically searched the living room for his girlfriend.
"Sarah?", Chuck called, panic obvious in his voice as he poked his head into the kitchen. There was no reply and no sign of Sarah.
"Sarah?", Chuck repeated, running towards their bedroom, and the source of the music.
'What is that? David Guetta?', Chuck shook the thought out of his head. Who cared what music was playing? Chuck had to get his mind back in the game.
'Oh God', Chuck prayed, 'please let her be OK…'
Taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what was beyond, Chuck slammed his foot into the bedroom door, right next to the handle as he had seen Casey do so many times before, flinging it open to the destruction Chuck imagined lying ahead.
What Chuck saw ahead of him was shocking.
So shocking, in fact, he was sure he felt his chin hit the floor, moments before his eyes popped out of his head. There was Sarah Walker, her back to him, dancing her own little jig dressed in no more than a tank top and shorts, with her hands grasped around his Han Solo figurine as though life depended on it, acting as an impromptu microphone.
'And what is the deal with her hair?', Chuck thought, his mind not believing what his eyes were telling it.
"WHERE THEM GIRLS AT? OOOOooooOooO", Sarah wailed at the top of her lungs, obviously enjoying her new found freedom of expression.
"WHERE THEM GIRLS AT?" Sarah continued, oblivious of her new companion.
'Well…', Chuck thought, 'I guess I've discovered the source of that… Screaming… Definitely better than torture.'
Chuck stood in the doorway for a while, too stunned to move, and too scared of interrupting what was probably one of the funniest, and cutest, things he'd ever seen. He stifled a laugh. Sarah was good at many things, but singing obviously wasn't one of them.
Finally deciding to make his girlfriend aware of his presence, Chuck cleared his throat unceremoniously loudly to ensure it travelled over the din of the music.
"Um… Sarah…", Chuck shouted, fighting the laughter that was building in his chest.
Sarah immediately froze, Han inches from her lips with hips unmoving and seemingly stuck mid gyration, like a deer in the headlights.
After what felt like hours, Sarah finally turned, albeit slowly, to face her handsome intruder. Dropping her hands to her sides with her face as innocent as a Catholic school girl, Sarah gradually began to grin, a rosy tint creeping its way across her porcelain cheeks.
"Honey, I'm home..."
A/N 2: Just in case you didn't know, Michael Bublé sang Everything, not David Guetta, lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story, and hope you are having a spectacular day :)
Btw, any feedback would be greatly appreciated.