John Casey is angry. Maybe pissed was a stronger word. Or livid. Yeah, he liked livid.
Now why was Casey so livid, on this day of all days? Did Chuck continue to annoy the hell out of him? No, well not more than usual. Did Fulcrum win another battle? Chuck hadn't picked anything up about them for a while now. No, today was the day he realized how freaking soft he was getting. Soft like a freaking marshmallows, and he hated marshmallows.
Casey, first of all, was totally not used to being nice. He was used to barking orders, going on life-or-death missions, shooting things. But now…well now this just disgusted him. He failed to acknowledge the signs.
The first sign came when he was talking to a costumer at the Buy More. Despite the fact that he just had this job as a cover, he had to admit he was pretty good at it.
"Well, now we have here, ma'am, is a 50 inch flat-panel TV with HDTV, priced at $1,999.99." Casey explained to an elderly woman, who was planning on buying a new TV for her daughter. The woman explained how her daughter's family had suffered in the California wild-fires earlier that year, and lost everything they owned. Casey figured that they must've gotten back on their feet if this old woman was buying them a new TV.
"Oh…" The woman's face feel, "Oh dear…I'm afraid I can't afford that." Casey's stomach dropped. He had no clue why he felt so bad, he just did. For some reason, he really wanted that family to have this stupid TV.
"Tell ya what, I'll knock off $200. Sound good?" Casey asked, glancing from the TV to her.
Her face lit up. "Really?"
"Of course! Let me go grab some forms and we'll be on our way." Casey explained. And, after that, he sold a 50 inch flat-panel TV with HDTV for $1800. He didn't miss Bartowski's stupid little grin.
"That was really nice, y'know. I think under all that bear fat, you've actually got some emotions!" Chuck said, smiling.
"Can it, Bartowski, unless you want my foot up your ass." Casey snarled. Chuck seemed to take a hint and quickly scuttled off, tail between his legs.
Casey blamed the weird feeling in his stomach as a bad lunch. He had to stop taking advantage to his free yogurts at the Orange Orange, it was making him feel lactose-intolerant. Little did he know that he just experienced pity for the first time in a long time.
Xxxxxx
Ever since that little spark of generosity at the Buy More, more signs pointed to his on-coming softness.
It happened again when Casey, Bartowski, and Sarah were getting ready to go on another mission. Chuck and Sarah's constant banter used to drive poor Casey up a wall. Almost to the point where his hand would twitch towards his gun every time that annoying Intersect opened his mouth. Now, though, he found their playful fights amusing.
"C'mon, Sarah, just tell me why I can't carry a gun? I mean, I know staying in the car is safest, but what if the bad guy comes up to the car when you guys are gone? Huh? What then? I promise I wont accidentally shoot myself or something!" Chuck whined.
Sarah's eye twitched, and Casey felt a weird feeling bubbling in his chest, but he coughed to ward it off. Sarah gave him a pleading look.
"Because, Bartowski, seeing as every time we say 'Stay in the car' you never stay in the car. And giving you a gun, with you saying you won't shoot yourself (which I dearly hope you would) you probably will end up shooting yourself in the face (which would make me a happy camper), but seeing as you are the Intersect, and are so dearly important, we want to steer clear from anything that can inflict you with harm." Casey grumbled, but the corner of his lips were twitching.
Chuck groaned loudly and mumbled something about 'evil NSA people' and 'can't believe this'. That same weird bubbling feeling rose in Casey's chest, and he coughed again.
"Something wrong?" Sarah asked. "You've been coughing a lot."
"No." Casey assured. "Just a cold." He was totally oblivious to the fact that he was holding in laughter the whole time.
Xxxxx
The day he realized that he had indeed, gone soft, hit him like a bullet train. It was early in the morning, and Beckman wanted a chat with Team Bartowski. After all these years, Casey had never been a morning person, but lately he found himself being rather cheerful in the mornings. Well, as cheerful as a John Casey can get.
"Sarah, can you come on down here? Beckman wants to talk." Casey asked on the phone. He received a tired grunt in reply, showing him that Sarah was not much of a morning person as he was.
"You're gunna have to be more cooperative than that, Sarah. It's about Chuck." Casey explained.
He totally was not prepared for what Sarah had to say next. "What?! Is he safe? Is he okay? Damn it Casey I told you to watch him! Did you shoot him? You shot him, didn't you! What could a poor guy like him ever to do you?!" She seethed.
All Casey could hear was ragged breathing on the other line. Sweet Jesus that caught him off guard. He'd seen Sarah protective over Chuck a lot, but not a total freak out like this. Hell, he'd never seen Sarah jump the gun like that before. His chest had swelled at the thought of Sarah and Chuck. He was certainly confused at the weird feeling in his chest.
"Sarah, relax, breath. Nothing has happened to Chuck. I would've shot him a long time ago." Casey explained, eyeing longingly at the revolver on his desk.
Silence on the other end. "Sorry." Came Sarah's grumbled reply. "I haven't had my coffee yet."
"Right, well, hurry up and get over here, wouldn't want you two lovebirds to be separated too long now, would we?" Casey teased. He received a annoyed huff, and then the dial tone.
It took Casey approximately 4 minutes to realize that that certain swelling in his chest was because he found Sarah's protectiveness sweet. He recognized this one because he felt the same way when Isla defended him with anything.
And that, my friends, is how Casey figured out how he turned soft.
And, as you know, he didn't take the news very kindly. Immediately all fingers were pointed towards Bartowski. Damn that-that nerd for turning him into this. When Sarah arrived, she was a little surprised by his off-handiness, like she used to him being this big huggable bear that finds things sweet.
Bartowski certainly didn't make things better. "Heeeeya Sarah!" Chucky goofily grinned as he sauntered into Casey's apartment. He saw Sarah smile a bit. Damn it the chest swelling again!
Apparently Beckman came with good news. She informed Team Chuck that they were all doing a good job, and since it was Thanksgiving, to take the day off.
"That's right!" Chuck perked up. "Hey Sarah, despite the fact that we can drop covers today, wanna come over for Thanksgiving dinner?"
"I'd love too." Sarah said with a grin.
"You too, Casey?" Chuck asked, completely oblivious to Casey's extremely pissed off mood.
Casey's eye twitched. Honestly, the last thing he wanted to be doing is being thankful for the people solely responsible for his mushy softness. But he honestly couldn't help himself from feeling touched that he got invited too.
"Sure." He grunted, trying to keep up his tough exterior. "Got nuthin' better to do."
So, after helping Chuck clean the house, helping Ellie pick out all the Thanksgiving food, and helping Sarah and Ellie prepare dinner, the more and more Casey found himself not being the angry, tough person he used to be.
It wasn't until pretty much everything was ready for dinner when Chuck happily walked into the kitchen where Casey was currently in.
"What, no marshmallows?" Chuck asked, eyeing the sweet potatoes.
"Hrm?" Casey asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Marshmallows and sweet potatoes? You should whip some up or Morgan'll have a fit."
"I don't like marshmallows." Casey grunted.
Chuck pretended that he never heard that. "Well I'll get some ready then."
In a matter of minutes, Chuck had a bowl of melted marshmallows. "Excellent!" He grinned, but his eyebrows furrowed when he saw Casey grimace at the bowl of sugary-goodness.
"Aw c'mon, are you serious, Casey? Everyone likes marshmallows. Just try one!" Chuck said, grabbing an un-melted marshmallow that was sitting on the counter.
Casey grumbled before snatching it out of his hand and stuffing it into his mouth. Holy mother of God, since when did disgusting mushy things taste so goddamn good? He fought hard to keep the disgusted look in his face.
After quickly swallowing, he snarled, "Damn it Bartowski, you tryin' to kill me?"
Chuck grinned. "You liked it?"
"No! And if you make me eat something so vile again I'm going to shoot you in every orifice!" Casey growled.
Chuck's eyes widened in horror, and he quickly turned around and went off to go find Sarah.
Casey sighed and looked longingly at the bowl of melted marshmallows. Maybe being soft was a good thing.
xxxxx
Casey does not belong to me D: He belongs to the people of Chuck!
This was extremely fun to do xD Casey's got an awesomely amuseing personality to write