A/N: This is for Ali, who requested Casey/Ellie, skis, and shippy. I took liberty with "skis" and made it "skiing", and "shippy" and made it "hints of future shippiness". Hope you like it anyway!

A/N 2: Second in the "Moments" series.

Casey stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his lips thinned in annoyance as his patience rapidly dwindled. "Tell me again why I'm here and not your stupid boyfriend Bartowski?" he growled.

Sarah gave him a baleful glance before resuming her search. "Chuck is not my boyfriend, Casey," she responded in her customary withering tone. "It's a cover weekend, remember? Chuck got so excited at the idea of having a few days to take a real vacation, I just couldn't say no."

Casey rolled his eyes. "And the fact that you can't ski more than a foot without falling on your pretty little ass didn't factor into your decision?" he grumbled.

"No," she said curtly. "I decided it didn't matter what I want or don't want. In case you hadn't noticed, we take total advantage of Chuck, Casey. He had no choice about being drawn into our mission, our lives, and he's taken it with surprising good grace. He never complains-."

"Hah!" Casey said with a contemptuous snort. "All that whiny little infant ever does is complain!"

"Okay, so Chuck complains a lot," Sarah conceded. She pulled out a ski jacket for consideration, then put it back when Casey shook his head in a decisively 'no' manner. "But he steps up and he does the job, and even you would have to admit that he's done it pretty well. Maybe completely outside of regulations at times, and maybe in a way that makes us both cringe, but he does it. And he rarely asks for anything for himself, at least anything that we can actually do for him. This is something I can actually do, so I'm going to do it. He deserves it."

Casey rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, yeah, Saint Bartowski. Patron of dumbasses and spineless nerd-boys everywhere." He pointed at a jacket and Sarah picked it up, wrinkling her nose.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously," he retorted. "It's a good brand, sturdy, durable, no bright flashy colors to make you stand out."

"It's going to make me look like a size twenty."

Casey shrugged. "More padding for when you fall on your back for the fifth time. Remind me to find you pants to match to protect your ass."

"Ha, ha," she muttered, the withering tone returning.

Casey smirked at her irritation, then caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of his eye. "You've got to be kidding me!" he growled as Chuck barreled eagerly into the store.

"Hey, Sarah!" Noticing Casey, his lip curled slightly. "Casey."

"Bartowski." His abrupt greeting died on his lips when he noticed who had accompanied him. "Afternoon, Ellie."

Ellie Bartowski gave him one of her patented smiles. "Hi, John." He half-smiled, feeling ridiculous to be pleased that she'd remembered to call him by his first name. "What are you two doing here?"

Casey rolled his eyes. "Sarah was too embarrassed to tell Chuck she couldn't ski if her life depended on it, so she begged me to come with her to help her pick out all the ski gear she needs."

"Casey!" He turned to see her furious glare and cold eyes boring a hole in him. It amused him.

"Really?" Chuck shifted his curious gaze from Casey to Sarah. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Sarah gave him an uncomfortable smile. "It just seemed like you wanted it so much, I couldn't tell you no," she explained, shooting Casey another murderous glance. "That's what couples do, right? They do things the other wants, even if it's not something they'd normally do?" The explanation was purely for Ellie's benefit, but Chuck picked up on Sarah's meaning.

Beaming, he slid his arm around her waist and gave her a peck on the cheek, again for Ellie's benefit. "Thank you, honey, that's so sweet. Now here, let me rescue you from Casey the glaring goat and I'll help you. I need to get a few things for myself, anyway."

Casey snorted at Bartowski's assessment of him. Goat could probably be considered accurate.

"So, looks like we trusty helpers have been abandoned, left to our own devices," Ellie mused with a wry grin.

Casey directed his attention back to her. "Looks like it," he agreed, feeling slightly foolish. It seemed whenever he was in this woman's company, all ability to hold an intelligent conversation vanished. Not that he was normally big on the conversing concept anyway, but if pressed he was usually able to hold his own. Not around the doc, though.

"So you're a skier, too?" Ellie asked as she surveyed the racks of ski clothes. She pulled out a bright blue jacket and he nodded, both in response to her question and her selection of jacket.

"Been skiing since I was a kid," he grunted. He gestured toward the jacket. "That one would look good on you. Blue's a good color for you."

She glanced at him, her eyes wide with surprise that he would notice. "Really?"

Casey nearly flushed. "Your scrubs are blue. You always look good in them."

Ellie let out a peal of laughter and Casey swore his insides were liquefying. "John, I don't think any doctor in the history of the world has actually looked *good* in their scrubs," she giggled. "We just hope we don't look like utter crap."

"You definitely don't," he muttered, nearly under his breath.

She gave him a warm smile. "Well, it's nice to know you appreciate them," she said simply. "Thank you."

She linked her arm through his and Casey's instinctive move was to pull away. He stopped himself, though, and allowed her arm to stay nestled snugly through his, pressed against his side. It warmed him and he liked it. A little too much.

"So what say we go buy this amazing jacket and then I'll treat you to lunch?" she asked cheerfully. "I have a feeling Chuck and Sarah are going to be busy for awhile, and also that we're not entirely welcome to join them. We can do lunch, and I can get to know my brother's friend a little bit better."

Casey hesitated. It wasn't like Sarah and Bartowski really needed his help, and he had his cell phone if anything unexpected should happen and they needed him. If he admitted it to himself (and he wasn't sure he did), he was just slightly terrified of being alone with Ellie Bartowski. She scared him, which both unnerved and irritated him. She was just a woman, after all. "Sure," he said abruptly. "But if you're getting lunch, the least I can do is get your jacket."

Ellie shook her head in protest. "John, a ski jacket is a lot more expensive than lunch!" she objected.

He grinned. "It's on sale. Besides, let's call it a birthday present." Money meant nothing to him, but she wouldn't know that.

She quirked an eyebrow, unable to stifle her own returning grin. "My birthday was four months ago."

Casey shrugged. "Sorry, it's a little late." He set the jacket on the counter by the register as he pulled out his wallet.

Ellie burst into laughter. "I have to tell you, I like you so much better than Morgan. For once, Chuck has a friend I can call a friend, too."

Casey turned to hand the cashier his credit card, using the movement to hide his face. A small smile was starting to bloom and it bothered him. He liked Ellie, too. And he was pretty sure it went well beyond friendship. "That's not much a of a compliment," he said dryly. "You're comparing me to Morgan."

Ellie giggled. "I know. I'm sorry." She took the bag with the jacket in it, thanking him profusely. "This was incredibly nice of you, John."

"No problem. We're friends now, aren't we?" he asked lightly as they exited the store. He unthinkingly put his hand on her lower back to guide her away from the crowd that churned through the mall. Heat surged through his palm and he knew he was in trouble.

She looked up at him, her smile wide and her eyes bright. "We are," she agreed, beaming.

Casey swallowed hard. Way to go, John. You just got yourself in way over your head.