Welcome to my newest fic! I love the TV show "Chuck" and I hope you all enjoy! Leave me a fav/follow/review! They are greatly appreciated!
"Wakey, wakey, Chuck."
Chuck furrowed his brows and groaned in his sleep, "Go away, Morgan." He turned on his side, away from the interrupting noise.
"Come on, Chuck, wake up," he heard his best friend's whines once more.
"I'm trying to sleep, Morgan."
"Please, I have something to tell you!"
"No."
"Chu-"
"No."
Peace was restored once again. Chuck breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh, hey, Sarah, good to see you!"
Chuck bolted awake. He shot to an upright position on the couch and instinctively swiped his hands through his hair.
"Sarah? Where?" he looked around frantically, but saw none of his blonde CIA handler. Just Morgan. The deceit sunk in and Chuck looked to Morgan with a look of annoyance.
"Ah, great! You're awake!" Morgan smiled.
"What do you want, Morgan?" Chuck sighed and leaned back against the couch. There was no way he was catching any more sleep now.
"Listen, Chuck, I've been thinking lately-"
"Oh, no. Morgan, you know what happens when you think."
"No, no, listen, it's good."
"Fine, continue."
"So the Buy More is having its annual spring sale."
"Right."
"And I was thinking, just bouncing around some ideas in my head, that we do a graveyard shift, you know? That way we keep the store open 24 hours to get more sales."
"Yeah, Morgan, that's great, it's just I don't think so many people are going to be lining up at 3 AM for 10% off."
"Not with that attitude!" Morgan clapped his shoulder, "here, let me tell you the logistics…"
Chuck's line of vision went out his window to the courtyard. John Casey, his NSA assigned handler walked up to the pane of glass and motioned for him to get outside.
Morgan was still raving about his idea.
"Yeah, yeah, that sounds great, buddy!" Chuck stood up, trying to find a way to escape to the courtyard, "Why don't you run it by Big Mike and see if it takes."
"Great idea, man! I knew it was a good idea coming to you!"
Chuck exchanged a few more quick words with an excited Morgan before he slipped outside.
Chuck jogged over to Casey's apartment and knocked on the door. A pair of icy blue eyes peered through the open wedge and let Chuck in.
"Bartowski," Casey growled, "took you long enough."
"I know, I know," he held up his hands in surrender, "I had to shake off Morgan. You know how that is."
"I don't understand how you can stand those Buy Morons," he spat.
"I assume I was called here to get some information on some top secret mission, not to be criticized relentlessly, right?"
Casey snorted, but continued, "Walker will be here soon."
Chuck bounced on his heels, feeling his skin prickle. He was in Casey's house. That was like a watered down version of a military arsenal. Secret gun vaults, ninja star dispensers, hidden daggers, and enough ammo to violate every gun law in the United States.
His little bonsai plant sat on his coffee table, the only indication Casey was actually human.
"So, how's your day been?" Chuck forced a smile.
Casey growled in response, giving him the evil eye.
"Don't want to talk about it, got it," Chuck nodded, "my day was fine, by the way, I-"
"Bartowski?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't care."
"Right."
The doorbell rang.
"Thank God," Chuck mumbled under his breath.
John walked over to the door and opened it, his hand on the gun hidden in his waistband. Sarah walked across the threshold. She looked gorgeous as always. Her blond curls were pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she wore blue jeans with a white shirt. She looked like an angel.
"Casey," she dipped her head to the NSA agent, "Hi, Chuck."
"Hey," he wiped his clammy palms on his pants.
"Right, let's get to the mission," Casey started, "Beckman's online."
Casey pressed a button on his remote, and General Beckman appeared on the monitor. She looked stony as usual.
"Good morning, Major Casey."
"General."
"Good morning, Agent Walker."
"Good morning, General."
"Mr. Bartowski."
"Morning, General."
"I have an assignment tonight for Agent Walker and Major Casey," Beckman delivered a stern glare.
"Wait," Walker stepped forward, "Not Chuck?"
"Not Chuck?" Chuck repeated excitedly.
"No," Beckman confirmed, "this mission does not require Mr. Bartowski's skill set."
"You hear that, Casey?" Chuck kicked his legs up on the table and crossed his arms behind his head, "I've got a skill set."
"If you don't get your legs off my coffee table in the next three seconds, Bartowski, I am going to tear them off with my bare hands."
Chuck set his legs firmly on the floor.
"I don't understand, General," Sarah shook her head, "don't we need Chuck? In case we need him to flash?"
"No, this is a sting operation, Agent Walker. Chuck's knowledge should only be used for the most classified of missions. I don't want to put him in danger of crossfire if the sting goes awry. Chuck, you have the night off, so it seems," Beckman finished.
"Seriously?" he leaned forward, a smile growing on his face, "You're not kidding?"
"Don't question the General, Bartowski," Casey grumbled, "accept the orders."
"I accept! I completely, one-hundred percent accept! Thank you!"
"General-" Sarah protested.
"That is all," Beckman cut her off, "Major Casey will inform you on the details."
The monitor went black.
"Casey, she can't be serious," Walker scoffed, "we can't leave Chuck, our asset, the Intersect, alone here at home with no supervision!"
"Uh, yes, you can," Chuck spoke, "Come on, guys, I haven't had a night alone in months! Everyday it's running from Russian terrorists, or diverting an assassination attempt of some political leader! I think you both are great, but a quiet night with Ellie and Awesome, some video games, and a normal dinner would go a long way for your Intersect's performance."
"What performance?" Casey rolled his eyes.
"You get what I mean," Chuck looked to Walker, "please, Sarah? I promise I won't leave the house, nothing will happen."
"She doesn't have a choice," Casey reloaded his gun, "they're her orders. Get ready, Walker, we leave by six."
Chuck smiled, touched her shoulder, and walked out the door.
"Don't do anything stupid, Bartowski!" Casey called, "Or I'll kill you myself!"
A worried line creased itself into Sarah's forehead. She didn't like this, not one bit.
"Doesn't help to worry about him," Casey eyed her, "it helps him if you do your job."
"Right," she nodded and steeled herself, "I'll be ready. Six o'clock."
Night crept over Burbank, California. Walker wore all black. She stood by Casey's door, waiting for him to finish loading their truck. The sting was an infiltration of a notorious Colombian drug ring. Some key members of the gang were rumored to be making a deal nearby, trying to fly their product into the states. The goal was to not let that happen.
"Ready, Walker?"
"Yeah, let me just go check in with Chuck one more time."
John rolled his eyes, "Make it quick."
Sarah climbed through Chuck's open window in his bedroom. He was sitting at his desk, looking at his computer. He jumped, startled when Sarah snuck in, but smiled when he recognized her.
"Sorry," she smirked, "didn't mean to scare you."
"No worries."
"Looking forward to a quiet night, tonight?"
"More than anything," he sighed, "I mean, nothing against you guys-"
"Of course not, Chuck, you deserve it. You went from being a civilian to a government asset overnight, it's understandable."
"Thank you," he nodded, "don't you guys have to leave soon?"
"Yeah, Casey's loading up the truck."
"So, what's your mission?"
"It's better if you don't know," she looked down.
"Right, right," he chuckled, "I don't need anymore secrets in my head."
Casey and I will be back as soon as we can. Check in periodically, okay? Don't leave the house."
"Trust me, I'm not going anywhere."
"Good," she nodded, heading towards the window, "I've got to get going. I'll come by later tonight."
"Alrighty, see you then."
"Bye, Chuck."
"Bye, Sarah."
She tore her gaze away and went back out the window.
He's going to be fine, he's going to be fine, he's going to be fine.
The clock hit 2:15 AM. Chuck lay in his bed, fast asleep. He was relaxed, not bruised and sore from being kidnapped, black-bagged, chased, tortured, or tranquilized. When his handlers left, he had a nice dinner with Ellie and Awesome, watched a movie, read some comics, and hit the sack at around 10:00 PM.
Sarah read the report that Chuck sent her of his night a few hours earlier. She was still in the car with Casey, reading the summary for the fourth time.
"Walker, Chuck is asleep. He's fine. He gave you hourly updates just like you asked, give it a rest."
"I know, but I just feel like I'm not doing my job. We're his handlers, and we're not there with him."
"Chuck was able to care of himself before, he can do it again. He's a grown man."
"Yes, but Chuck didn't have a head full of government secrets before."
"Careful, Walker, you actually sound like you care," Casey looked at her with an amused expression. She looked flustered, "he's an assignment."
"Yeah," she sighed, not being able to untangle the knot in her chest, "an assignment."
Something sharp pricked Chuck in the arm. His eyes shot open. What was that? His room was pitch black, the dim glow of the moon his only source of light. He blinked rapidly a few times, feeling a warm feeling spread throughout his body from the prick in his elbow.
He was surrounded by five men wearing heavy-grade, black gear. They had weapons in their hands. Chuck's heart beat rapidly, and his eyes widened even more when he saw a syringe in the hand of one of the mystery figures.
A shout built in his throat. The figures descended like a pack of vultures.
Two grabbed his legs. Two grabbed his arms. One held down his chest. Another stuffed a cloth in his mouth to stop his screams. Chuck thrashed and kicked, but the mysterious injection was starting to take hold. It was a tranquilizer or sedative of some sorts.
His mind started to grow foggy, his eyelids felt heavy, and his movements were becoming more sluggish.
"Hold him tight."
"Jesus, this guy is tall."
"He's almost out, hang in there, boys."
"Man put up quite a fight."
Chuck tried to battle the tranquilizer, but knew it would be to no avail. In a few moments, he would be unconscious, and who knew what his fate sealed after that. His sole concern at the moment was Ellie and Awesome. If he continued to make a ruckus, they'd wake up. They'd come to his bedroom to check on him, and then they'd be taken out by his attackers. That was NOT going to happen.
Be brave, Chuck. Whatever happens, happens. At least Ellie and Awesome will be safe...
The least he could do was try to identify his attackers, just in case, by some miracle, he survived. These people probably knew he was the Intersect, that he was an important government asset. They'd either torture or kill him. It all happened so fast, his eyes weren't able to adjust. All he saw were the shadowed features illuminated by the moon's dim light. On the vest of one of the men, he saw white numbers: 10192000.
"He's out."
I'm sorry, Sarah, I'm sorry. There is so much I need to say...
And with that, Chuck's eyes completely closed and he sank into a deep sleep, wondering where or if he'd wake up again.
Chapter 2 coming soon!