Disclaimer: If I owned it, Casey/Ellie would have happened. Awesome would have stuck around somehow anyway, just to provide his dopey brand of comic relief.
Un-beta'd. Proceed with caution...
Casey settled into his recliner, sliding on his headset and pulling up the video feed of the Bartowski common room on his plasma display. Woodcomb had just rushed out the front door of his apartment, presumably having been called into surgery. That left Walker, Bartowski, Ellie, and Grimes at the usual inane "Friday Night Board Game Extravaganza." Not exactly Casey's idea of great weekend programming, but that was the job.
At least the California Ken Doll was gone. One more proclamation of "Dude!" or "Awesome!" and Casey wouldn't hold himself accountable for any stray bullets that found their way into the bewilderingly brainless doctor's head.
Ever prepared for these particularly rough nights of surveillance, Casey poured himself a generous helping of Johnnie Walker as Chuck's voice filtered through his headphones.
"Okay, so—shall we divvy up Devon's…assets…and carry on?"
The asset himself was leaning over the loaded Monopoly board on the coffee table, reaching for an unattended pile of cash and properties. He grinned stupidly in Walker's direction at his pathetic private joke and Casey had to roll his eyes at her far too genuinely amused expression.
"Are you kidding me, Chuck?"
Ellie was seated on the couch facing away from the camera, but Casey could well imagine her incredulous expression as she halted her brother's pilfering. (He'd memorized most of her expressions by now—for purely spy-related reasons, of course. This one would be the oft-employed 'my brother is a bit of an idiot sometimes, isn't he?' face.)
"Devon would not be happy if we dealt him out of this game. He's just about to wipe us off the board, and you know how competitive he gets."
"Right. Okay, sis. Cheating Devon out of a win, not awesome. We'll leave the board and come back to it next week, I guess."
Casey snorted. He was positive Ellie's entire body had just convulsed at the thought of that mess littering her living room for a whole week, but she nodded bravely.
"So, should we call it a night then?" Walker didn't look nearly as eager for this to end as she ought to.
"What? Come on, Sarah!" Grimes' whining was enough to raise Casey's blood pressure a few points, as usual. "The night is young…ish, we're enjoying each other's company, and Ellie hasn't insulted me all night; the Friday Night Board Game Extravaganza must go on!"
Casey frowned. Of course Grimes would be the one to prolong his misery.
"I don't know, Morgan, it's a bit late to start another big game…" Yes! Sweet, sweet Ellie, thank you!
No, no, no, don't you open your mouth again, Grimes…
"Well, Ellie—sweet, sweet Ellie—" Ugh. "—we could always start a little game, couldn't we? That is, a little game I like to call…Truth or Dare."
Casey growled into his freshly opened can of tuna. Not only prolonging his misery, but intensifying it with disgusting, adolescent lady-feelings crap like Truth or Dare? The bearded hobbit was in fine form tonight.
"Morgan, buddy, that is a great idea!" The asset's bright mood was not improving Casey's comparatively dark one. "Don't you think some Truth or Dare…or Truth…sounds like fun, honey?"
Ah, Bartowski. Heh. If a year of working with her hadn't taught the kid that Walker had no problem lying to him—okay, not entirely accurate, but she was still pretty damn secretive—then he really had no chance.
"I don't know if we really have time…" Walker was hedging. Hedge, Walker, hedge!
"Oh, let's just play along, Sarah." Damn it, Ellie. Your betrayal stings. "Any inappropriate dares or questions directed at me or Sarah will be vetoed. Got it, Morgan?"
"No pervy abuse of the rules. Understood, m'lady Eleanor!"
"Alright!" Bartowski's enthusiasm was painful, especially when echoed in the greasy face of the Grimes troll. "Who wants to go first?"
Lovely. Casey released a sigh of deep resignation. This long-ass assignment had already claimed his Crown Vic as well as most of his sanity, and the rest of his mind was hanging by a very loose and very angry thread. This asinine surveillance was moving the situation dangerously close to 'worst op ever' territory.
"That would be me, Chuckster. I still owe you for that stunt you pulled at the Buy More today with the weepy elderly microwave shopper."
"Oh, come on, buddy! I really needed Casey's help in the stock room, and you were the only one around to take over in appliances. I said I was sorry."
Casey grunted. That 'weepy' woman had been an insecure widow looking for some honest, decent help. The emotion-shy marine might not enjoy dealing with distraught citizens, but at least he knew how to maintain a sense of honor in uncomfortable moments. Grimes had just been downright rude.
Also, the widow's expensive taste meant Casey had dropped a damned big commission by leaving her to Grimes.
"Well, Chuck, 'sorry' doesn't cut it." Grimes narrowed his eyes in what he probably thought was an intimidating manner. "Now, answer me this: truth or dare?"
Chuck sighed, but he was grinning.
"I'll take truth."
Grimes' expression shifted into something more frighteningly devious than Casey would ever have thought him capable of producing. Feeling more ridiculous by the moment, Casey squinted at the screen in anticipation.
"Okay, Chuck. You asked for it. Now I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Do you swear?"
Oh, for crying out loud.
"I swear."
"Alright. Picture this: you have one night free from your obligation to Sarah; your actions will have no emotional repercussions." Heh. Maybe this would be interesting after all… "Would you rather spend it hanging out with your lady in a strictly PG capacity—watching a movie, holding hands, playing Monopoly—or engaging in a passionate no-strings-attached with Firefly and Terminator beauty Summer Glau?"
Ugh. Or it would descend into creepy nerd land, as usual. Of course, if Chuck's stammering was anything to go by, the troll had succeeded in rocking the love boat. Or at least, it would look that way if there were actually a love boat to be rocked in the first place.
Casey snorted as Ellie let out an indignant "Chuck!" Apparently she didn't appreciate Bartowski's hesitation.
"I…I would choose Sarah. Of course I would choose Sarah."
Cue the nauseating looks between Walker and the asset. Eugh.
"Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. I'm your best friend; don't think I don't know you're lying. That River Tam poster is still stashed in the back of your closet, and—"
"Okay, I think it's my turn." Walker looked pretty irritated under that sickly sweet smile.
"Uh, Sarah, haven't you ever played this game? I asked Chuck a question, and now it's his turn to ask someone else."
"No, no, that's okay, Morgan. Let Sarah have her turn!"
"Morgan. Truth or dare?" Casey had to admire Walker's deceptive cheer. The steel in her eyes let even Grimes know not to contradict her.
"Okay, tr—ahem—uh, truth. Fire away, ma'am."
"Objectively speaking, who's more attractive: me or Ellie?"
Ooh. That was just dirty. Walker and Ellie shared a conspiratorial smirk before surrounding a panicked Grimes, their expressions wonderfully, entertainingly expectant.
"Well, Morgan?" Ellie's glee was shining clearly from narrowed hazel eyes. "Think carefully. I wouldn't want you to miss Sunday dinner…" A pause, a tilt of her head. "For the rest of the year." Oh, that woman was good.
"Yes, and it would be such a shame for you if all of Chuck's video games and dolls were donated to charity." Walker rejoined the interrogation with pleasure. "All those game files you've saved here, all those toys you chipped in to buy…"
"A-action figures. They're action figures. And collectibles."
Casey tipped his chair back, propping his feet up with relish and humming in perverse enjoyment of Morgan's discomfort. Served the nasty little goblin right for mistreating an innocent customer today.
"I…uh, I think I'm gonna have to say…Sarah."
What?
"What?"
What the hell was wrong with this boy? Walker, more attractive than Ellie?
"Morgan, are you…are you serious?" Bartowski was almost as confused as Casey.
"Look, Chuck, we…we can't lose Han and Chewie. I'm sorry, Ellie. I hope you can forgive me. And maybe—maybe allow me some leftovers every other week, out of the goodness of your heart. Or pity."
Casey rolled his eyes right along with Ellie as she rose and returned to the couch.
"We'll see."
Huh. Casey perked up; if Ellie made good on her threat, he might not have to deal with Grimes at any more Sunday dinners. Half-heartedly, he hoped her pride was genuinely wounded somewhere deep down. This would be an opportune moment for her to hold a grudge.
"Okay, so I guess that means it's my turn." Grimes' enthusiasm had thankfully been taken down a few pegs now. "Since we're on the subject of physical beauty, we might as well keep this going." The kid seemed to be glaring unappreciatively at Chuck's laughing eyes. "Ellie, truth or dare?"
Ellie's head tilted to the side in what Casey surmised to be a challenge. Morgan obviously wanted to maintain the tell-all theme the game had taken on.
"Dare." Take that, Grimes.
"Right. Well, I dare you to tell me who you think is more attractive: our dearest, loveliest Charles Irving Bartowski…or Buy More green shirt John Casey. Objectively."
Damned sneaky troll and his—wait. What?
"What? That's a bit of a weird selection, don't ya think, buddy? Why would Ellie look at either of us that way? That's just—"
"Just a question, Chuck. An objective question."
"Does it matter?" Walker was laughing as she interrupted. "It's no contest, Morgan. I think we all know the answer to this one." Oh please, Walker. There she went, eyeing up the asset again. That girl and her lady-feelings couldn't hope to tell the difference between 'geek' and 'attractive male' after all this time allowing herself to be compromised. Like he cared about her opinion anyway.
Not that he cared about anyone else's opinion either. Nope. Not caring.
"Sarah's right, Morgan." Careful there, Ellie… "I mean, come on! Have you seen John Casey?" Ouch. Okay, maybe caring a bit.
Casey's wince faded into intrigue when Ellie uttered a very unexpected, very soft sounding sigh. Could she mean—
"Seriously, that man's biceps put Devon's to shame." Suddenly everyone in the room was paying the same rapt attention to Ellie that Casey had been, but each for their own reasons—among which disbelief was prominent. "And really, put John in a suit like the one he wore for Thanksgiving and any sane woman would practically melt at his feet. His eyes are so…so blue. And his jaw! That jaw was chiseled by Michelangelo himself. Never mind that mouth, and those hands, and that b…uh…"
An awkward silence descended upon the room and Casey's ears were filled with the slight buzz of an inactive audio feed. It was a sound he found himself quite enjoying. In fact, it might have been one of his new favourite sounds.
The eventual pointed clearing of several throats signaled the end of that game, and the apartment cleared out in record time. Ellie was left alone in the living room, still rooted to the same spot on the couch. She too cleared her throat before rising and turning to head to the kitchen. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.
"Well, really." She was muttering. "Can't blame a girl for telling the truth."
Huh.
A rare, slow smile blossomed over a previously ill-tempered NSA agent's face. Maybe this assignment wasn't so bad after all.