Written for the prompt Chuck, Chuck/Bryce, a drunk/high Intersect is a hilarious sight (a little scary and, if you're a bad guy, deadly, but still hilarious) at fic-promptly
Chuck had been a member of a fraternity when in college, he felt that he was able to hold his alcohol quite well, so he wasn't too worried about managing to keep a clear head while out at the party that night. It wasn't as if he was anywhere near the same level of low alcohol tolerance as Jeff or Lester, he would be fine, or so he had thought.
He and Bryce had arrived at the party together, but separate from Sarah and Casey who were relegated to the positions of staff that evening, due to Bryce and Chuck having the better cover for the event. Being computer geeks it made more sense that they were the frontrunners on this mission as the party was being thrown by a software giant who had just released what he was claiming was the next best thing.
The only issue with this next best thing was that the creator had been stealing and selling government secrets in order to fund his research and development needs on the project. They knew that there was supposed to be one more trade of information that evening and they were to intercept the trade, get the information back and neutralise the threat of the intelligence getting released.
For now though, all they had to do was blend in, so taking and drinking the champagne they were given on arrival was a must, they then had to mingle with the other guests. At some point Bryce lost track of Chuck and when he found him again an hour or so later he knew things were not quite right. The fact that as soon as he had seen Bryce he had launched himself at him, snuggling into him in such a way that Bryce hadn't seen since he was ill with the flu in Sophomore year.
Chuck began to nuzzle his neck, much to the amusement of the group of female geeks that he had emerged from, high stakes female geeks of course; their companies all generating them some really nice profits.
"Found our buyer." Chuck whispered in his ear in a parody of sweet nothings, "At my eight."
Bryce looked over Chuck's shoulder, looking for the mysterious buyer, noticing him heading towards the dance floor. Turning to the group that Chuck had been talking to he smiled charmingly at them, "I'm sorry ladies, but I should probably try and sober this one up before he ends up on the dance floor."
Chuck understood the message in his words and was soon dragging Bryce towards the dancing couples on the floor, before breaking away from him and moving onto the floor solo, dancing like someone who had too much to drink.
Bryce was just about to inform Sarah and Casey that they had the buyer in their sights when he heard Casey's gruff voice saying the deal had already gone down. Chuck must have heard as well as he suddenly started dancing closer to the target, and more erratically than he had been and bumping into the man. He then acted suitably annoyed that the other man would get in his way and had soon managed to provoke a fight that would allow him the chance to surreptitiously frisk the man and find where he was keeping the memory stick.
It was a sight to see, one minute Chuck had been dancing like a crazy baby elephant and the next thing he was breaking out the Kung Fu. Bryce could tell that many of the guests looked amused, to be honest so did the target, all of them underestimating Chuck and writing him off as just another drunk. The Intersect had no such impairment though and it took over, making Chuck's body a lot more co-ordinated than it should be in his drunken state.
Bryce waited until he saw a small nod from Chuck before moving in to remove him from the fight, even going as far as to apologise to the target for Chuck's behaviour. Watching as Sarah moved in on the man, offering him the use of one of the guest rooms to make himself presentable again. He led Chuck out of the room, watching as Sarah did the same with the target.
"Inside left pocket." Chuck spoke quietly, the adrenaline having sobered him up some.
Bryce led him out to the car they came in, putting him in the passenger seat before driving away, knowing that Sarah would get the information and that she had Casey as back up if she needed it. What he needed to do was get Chuck home before he managed to get himself into anything else. Some days he felt that he was more Chuck's minder than his partner; the other man should have known that he had a low tolerance for alcohol other than beer. At least the Intersect was still on form, or things could have worked out completely differently and Chuck may been nursing bruises as well as a hangover the next day.