Okay, before you start reading, you should probably know that I have no idea when this story is set. I honestly just started typing and characters entered and exited whenever they pleased. There's probably something in here that's incompatible with the timeline of the show, but whatever. Please don't hurt me.
Also, sorry for the delay. I am in the midst of trying to write another story, but I've hit some serious writer's block. I mean, it's a beast. Anyhoo, it'll probably take me a while to finish, and I prefer to finish my stories before I start to upload so there are no month/year long gaps in between chapters. Sorry...
So: Morgan = random worker, Chuck = Nerd Herd, Sarah = fake girlfriend. This takes place way back when.
Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck, the man or the show.
Chuck cut the engine and sighed, looking up through his windshield at the Buy More. The clock read 8:17. Technically, he was late, but, recently, Chuck had been less concerned with punctuality. It used to be that Chuck was the perfect worker: always on time, always working until the end of his shift, usually trying to keep the rest of his boneheaded companions from scaring away all their customers.
But now, what with all of his… extracurricular activities, he often either skipped out on most or all of a shift or woke up sore and exhausted from the previous night's excursions. He could pretty confidently assume that these went hand-in-hand, and yesterday had been no exception. He and the rest of the team had been called in to handle a smuggling handoff that was going to take place on the docks. Of course, being the lowlife scum that they were, said smugglers decided to hold this transaction in the ungodly hours of the morning.
It had gone pretty smoothly, with Casey only being forced to shoot a couple of thugs, and Chuck was on his way home in less than half an hour after the whole situation began. Which, of course, begged the question: Why was he even needed there in the first place?
Chuck's sleep-deprived brain was still struggling to answer this question as he stepped out of his Nerd Herder and stumbled sluggishly up to the sliding doors of the Buy More. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the windows and quickly smoothed down his hair as he stepped into the convenience store.
It was pretty empty, having only been open for less than twenty minutes. He looked around and was not surprised to see that there were very few green shirts around either. As he walked down the center aisle to the Nerd Herd desk, he glanced toward Big Mike's office and was just able to see the large man disappear into his dark office with what looked like three entire boxes of doughnuts in his possession. Chuck wondered absently how many more boxes his boss would end up eating before the day was through. His appetite was of a legendary status. It was said, through the Buy More underground (yes, it did exist, although it was really populated solely by Lester and Jeff) that Big Mike once wreaked his revenge on a bad employee by breaking into his house via window and ate every last crumb in his pantry and refrigerator.
He no longer threatened this, however, because he did not want to advertise that he could barely fit through a French window, let alone a normal one. At least, that was how Lester told the story.
He did have his flaws, but it was hard to dislike him. Big Mike was almost always on time, and that was really all that could be said for the man, as far as his business managing went. He was lazy, always looking for someone to hand off his work to. All that being said, he had a soft spot for Chuck (and now Morgan, although that's for a slightly different, kind of creepy reason), and Chuck could honestly say that he almost returned the sentiment.
He could also honestly say that he envied how easily Big Mike's problems went away by just eating them all with a side of doughnuts. He tried that once, and had gone through several barrels of cheese puffs and grew an impressive homeless man's beard before he was finally shaken out of his stupor. At the end of it, he was disappointed to find that his problems were still very much there, and showed no signs of just leaving on their own.
It was a chapter of his life that he preferred to leave closed.
It was also something that he would do horrible things to keep Sarah unaware of.
Chuck brought his thoughts back to the present and rounded the counter. He sat heavily in his black rolling desk chair and dropped his bag on the counter with a grunt. He blearily looked around the store and was able to see the top of the afro of one of his coworkers a few aisles over. At least someone came in today, he thought.
In all fairness, it was a Monday, which meant that the chances of Morgan getting up before eleven were immediately reduced by at least fifty percent, and the chances that Jeff or Lester would ever get up at all were reduced from a generous thirty percent down to a solid eight and a half.
Chuck checked his watch. 8:19. Oh God, he thought. This day is never going to end. The doors slid open and another customer walked in.
"Welcome to the Buy More, where you can buy more because you save more if you shop at the Buy More. How can I help you?" Chuck rattled off without looking up.
He heard a very familiar chuckle. "Oh, well, since you asked so nicely," Morgan began.
"Nevermind, Morgan." Chuck yawned. "You're late, you know."
"Hey, you should be proud that I even got here," Morgan pointed out. "That makes it… what, three weeks in a row?"
"Yeah, showing up to work on a Monday like every other employed human on the planet, very impressive," Chuck said absently. Morgan smiled happily, if somewhat blearily, and walked to the back of the store to put his stuff in his locker.
It was another hour before Jeff and Lester showed up. Chuck had no idea why they always turned up together. It was kind of creepy, because they always walked through the doors at the same time. It was almost as if… as if they carpooled to work together, or maybe even lived together.
Chuck shuddered at the thought. The carpooling idea was the less disturbing of the two, and the most likely, since Jeff literally lived in a van. Why Lester wouldn't just drive himself to work would remain a mystery, since Chuck was too afraid to ask. There was nothing Chuck wanted less than to know what went on in that greasy head.
Well, that or what went on when Jeff was in his van, but even the thought of finding out made Chuck retch. Some things were better left unseen.
"Hey guys," Chuck said as Jeffster walked past the desk.
Lester put up his hand in Chuck's face. "Silence, Charles," he said, keeping his eyes front and center. "We have important business to attend to."
Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
Lester nodded self-importantly.
Chuck rested his elbows on the desk. "And what sort of 'important business' would this be that is worth coming in an hour late?"
Lester shook his head, refusing to look at the person he was addressing. "I'm sorry, Charles, but it is far too important for your tiny brain to comprehend."
Chuck was contemplating whether or not to bring up his Stanford history and compare it to Lester's when Jeff peeked out from behind Lester's shoulder. It looked as if he had actually put some effort into combing down his wild hair, but it had been to no avail. "If we told you, we'd have to kill you," he whispered loudly, dead serious. "It's secret government information."
"Jeff!" Lester hissed over his shoulder, still not tearing his eyes away from whatever was so interesting in the middle distance. "We discussed this. You cannot mention the nature of this to anyone, remember?"
"Oh, right." Jeff creepily winked at Chuck. "But we can trust Chuck, right?"
Lester rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I don't know why I keep you around, Jeff."
"Maybe because, without Jeff, you would just be known as Ster to the music community?" Chuck offered, bemused.
"No, of course not," Lester sputtered. "I could replace Jeff at any time and find someone whose name would be just as- as… Whatever, it's not important. Come along, Jeff." Lester smoothed back his hair, which already lay flat against his skull, and strode down the main aisle to the back room. Jeff followed after eying a middle-aged woman studying a CD player.
Chuck watched them storm away and realized that Lester was wearing leather pants. He immediately shrieked and looked away, rubbing his eyes furiously, but it was of no use. The image was burned into his eyes and would haunt his every dream for years.
Chuck should be used to these kinds of antics by now, but his coworkers were able to reach higher and higher levels of idiocy that he hadn't known existed in his college days. That was saying something, since everyone knows that college is a time to experiment and be stupid.
As another few hours passed, Chuck was reminded of all the reasons he wanted out of the electronic store business in the first place. It reminded him of where he had been before Bryce sent him the email that, depending on the day, either ruined Chuck's life or improved it beyond anything Chuck thought was possible.
Basically, it was a normal day at the Buy More: boring as all get-out and not looking to improve any time soon.
There was a good amount of customers who visited, but Chuck's job was to man the Nerd Herd desk. He was to sit in his rolly chair and stare at the phone, waiting for someone who had forgotten how to turn their computer off and back on again to call and ask for help. Then, he was to drive out in his Nerd Herder that was barely big enough for him and push the power button for the customer, get paid an exorbitant price, and end up with less than a third of the profit.
Not to mention that he was struggling to keep his heavy eyes open and his head up off the desk. And, on top of it all, he hadn't seen Jeffster in at least an hour, which meant one of two things: they were up to no good in the back room, or Jeff was drunk in the break room and Lester was scaring away any and all female customers.
Chuck sighed and sat back heavily in his chair, watching Morgan try to sell a television to some old man who obviously wouldn't be around much longer to enjoy it if he was manipulated into buying it. He glanced at his watch for the millionth time that day. 11:22. Not even lunch time yet.
Morgan saw him check his watch and called, "Time for lunch yet?"
Chuck shook his head regretfully, and Morgan turned his attention back to the old man. Chuck's head was slowly falling toward the desk and his eyelids were growing dangerously heavy when the phone rang. He jerked upright violently and smoothed back his hair reflexively before grabbing for the phone and holding it to his ear. Finally, something is happening, he thought with relief.
"Hello, this is the Nerd Herd at the Buy More, ready to help you with any technical difficulties, how may we assist you?" he said quickly.
A pause. "Oh, uh…" A teenaged boy's voice came over the phone line. "Sorry, man, I guess I got the wrong number. Unless… does Jessica live there?"
Chuck's hopes, which had risen with the phone ring, slowly fell again. "Nope," Chuck answered, trying to keep his voice up. "Sorry, no Jessica here. This is actually a Buy More, so no one lives here."
"Damn it!" The boy on the other end let out a string of profanities. "She gave me a bad number!"
Chuck wished he could sympathize with the kid, but he could truthfully say that he had never been given a phony number by a girl before. He could also truthfully say that he had never gotten a phone number from a girl, either, but that little bit of information wasn't necessary to bring up.
The kid, after shouting a few more choice words, hung up, and Chuck set the phone back down. Another glance at the watch: four minutes had passed.
Chuck groaned and finally let his head fall against the desk with a loud thud. "This day is never going to end," he muttered under his breath.
As he tried to mentally retrace his steps that led him to this place and think through the many mistakes that led here, he heard Morgan wolf whistle at someone. Oh, god, he thought, despairingly. Morgan, don't make a fool out of yourself. Again. Like you do every time any female within twenty years of your age passes by.
Thankfully, Morgan didn't pursue the woman in question or say anything that would have insulted her and caused her to storm out in a fury. It had happened before. Morgan referred to these occasions as "getting to know her a bit better". Chuck preferred the more conventional phrase "getting slapped in the face and left in the dust". Apparently, Morgan had heard it both ways.
Either way, this was not the case today. Said woman simply chuckled quietly, as if she were used to such behavior, and kept walking. Chuck almost raised his head just to thank her for not making a big deal out of it, but decided it was too much effort.
"Chuck?"
It was suddenly worth it to raise his head. He shot to his feet and straightened his shirt self-consciously. "Oh. Hi, Sarah. I, uh, didn't realize you were coming. Here. Today." He inwardly cringed as his mouth kept babbling.
Sarah flashed a smile at him. Her white shirt was stained from what Chuck could only assume was frozen yogurt. "What, I can't visit?"
Chuck was suddenly retreating for an insult he wasn't sure he made. "No! I mean, of course you can visit, I just wasn't aware that you wanted to. Visit. Today."
"Oh," Sarah said with a smirk, enjoying watching him squirm. "So, I need to tell you in advance?"
"No!" Chuck said quickly. "That's not what I'm saying, I just-you caught me by surprise, is all." He took a deep breath and tried to make sense of his thoughts. "Sorry. Can we just start this entire conversation over?"
Sarah shrugged. "Nah, that's okay. Anyway, I need to talk to you."
"About what?" Morgan interjected.
Sarah turned slowly to look at him. "Hi, Morgan," she said with a dangerous smile. "Would you mind taking a walk?"
Morgan narrowed his eyes at her. "Fine. But some day, you're going to tell me what all of this secret stuff is that you two are always discussing privately."
Sarah shook her head. "No, I don't think I will."
Morgan smiled. "That's okay. Chuck will tell me eventually. We're best friends. We don't keep big secrets from each other." He caught Chuck's eye as he said that, then turned on his heel and sought out another customer.
Sarah looked back at Chuck. "We need you back at Castle."
"Right now?" Chuck asked. "Really? But I'm at work, and my job is kind of important, you know."
A smile played around Sarah's lips. "Right, because sleeping on your desk in the middle of a Buy More is more important than working with the CIA to save lives."
Chuck wisely decided to keep his mouth shut and followed Sarah out of the Buy More.
Lester watched them go, his devious little mind working over time. His eyes narrowed. "I'll find out what you're hiding, Charles," he whispered to himself. "Don't you worry about that." He began to laugh evilly under his breath, something he had been working to perfect over the past year since he lost a competition in the same vein to Morgan last year.
He choked on his own spit and his evil laugh became a slightly malevolent cough.
He had a ways to go yet.
Okay. That's done with now. I hope it all made sense. I kind of wrote it all between one and three in the morning, so... yeah. Also, this story started as a oneshot, but then I realized I could make it into a full blown story, so I did. I don't have it all finished yet, this was kind of an impulse story, so updates may be very erratic and it may take a while to finish (if I do at all). It won't be super long, and its basically a filler story while I figure out what to do with my other one. I'm not sure where this will go, exactly, but I'm sure it will be ridiculous, whatever it is.
(The "simple trade" will take place next chapter. Don't worry.)
Please review and let me know whether I should finish it or not, and if it's any good so far. Any reviews will be greatly appreciated (although this barbarian is sort of tender, so please keep it constructive).
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time.
(Maybe.)
