So basically this story is set somewhere in Season 1 or 2, but nowhere in particular. Enjoy.
Chuck versus the Circus
Part 1
"Bartowski! Stop sleepin' on the job and get your lazy, nerd-herder butt to work!" the loud voice of none other than Big Mike echoed through the Buy More store, startling Chuck and waking him from his peaceful sleep at the Nerd-herder desk.
"Yes, Big Mike," Chuck yawned sleepily, trying to shake off the remaining weariness and exhaustion.
"You really need to stop with these crazy nights of yours, Bartowski. I don't know what the hell you get up to," Big Mike commented sternly, before retreating to his office.
"Trust me, if I could stop all this insanity, I would," Chuck whispered under his breath as he recalled all the madness from the previous night. It seemed that life-threatening, nail-biting, crime- fighting missions had become part of his regular routine.
Chuck scanned the scenery of the Buy More. Customers lingered among the shelves, gazing at appliances and trying to persuade imbecilic employees to lower prices. Trying hard to blend in amongst the variety of nutcases in the store was John Casey. Chuck could tell by the expression of annoyance spread across Casey's stern face that the tough agent hated his cover. He did well to hide his anger, but Chuck could tell that his rage was ready to explode in the face of a customer any minute.
As Chuck turner to face the door, a feeling of joy washed through him. Her sleek blonde hair, radiant smile and gorgeous figure made her stand out in the crowd. She appeared too beautiful, too sophisticated to be amongst the rejects of Buy More.
"Hey Chuck," Sarah spoke cheerfully, greeting him with a smile, "we're going on a date tonight."
"Oh, great… awesome. Uh, is this a date date or a, you know, not date thing?"
"It's a fake date, Chuck," she replied, reaching into her black leather handbag to reveal the edge of some colourful, strange-looking costumes. "We're going to the circus."
oOo
"So… we're joining the circus? I thought you meant we were just going to watch," Chuck said, wide-eyed with shock.
"Unfortunately," grumbled Casey unenthusiastically, "in order to get our hands on the people we're after, sitting in the audience wouldn't get us close enough."
"Agent Casey is right," General Beckman commented, her stern, cold face never changing expression. Chuck was thankful to have never met the General in person. They had only ever spoken via video connection. There was something about her sharp eyes, crinkled skin and serious, abrupt personality that he found rather intimidating. She seemed like an emotionless robot.
"We don't know exactly who we're after yet," Sarah began to explain. "That's why we need your help, Chuck. We know we're after three Fulcrum agents who escaped prison and joined the circus so that they would be constantly on the move, yet completely unsuspicious. Your job will be to help us identify who we're after."
Chuck could feel the droplets of sweat starting to trickle down his neck. He hated being the Intersect. Every day, at some point, he found himself cursing Bryce Larkin under his breath for making him the Intersect. He felt like he was driving through his life blind, never knowing what danger might jump out from the shadows and land right in front of him, potentially causing him to crash. He was running on pure luck. Somehow, despite all his clumsiness, he'd managed to come out of every daring mission in one piece.
And this time won't be any different, Chuck tried desperately to reassure himself. I'll be fine. I've done this so many times now I've lost count. Sarah and Casey won't let anything happen to me… I hope.
oOo
Chuck carefully plastered the thick, white paint onto his face, creating a mask that would keep his identity hidden. Putting the paint palate to one side, he stepped back, allowing himself to see his full costume in the bathroom mirror. The baggy, bright red trousers dangled loosely on his legs, and the oversized, black, polished shoes made walking a challenge. The vibrant, polka-dotted shirt screamed for people to stop and stare, and the frilled colour was starting to make him itch.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," he groaned, taking one last glance at his comical appearance before wandering unenthusiastically out of the bathroom.
"Are you ready to go Chuck?" Sarah's inpatient voice asked. Chuck was about to answer, but found himself speechless, mesmerised by Sarah's appearance. Her sparkly, tight black leotard clung to her body, showing off each perfect curve. Her golden hair was neatly tied back off her face by a glittery gold ribbon, and her make up exaggerated like that of a performer.
"Yeah…" Chuck replied, sounding dazed and distracted, "I'm ready."
