A/N: I make some minor references to the Episode 'Chuck vs. the Beefcake,' but I'm not following that storyline and taking an entirely different direction with my own adventure. :)

Chapter 1: Missing

Chuck Bartowski skidded past his best friend Morgan Grimes and waved his hands 'No!' Morgan was about to yank his arm and drag him to the break room for another complaint fest.

"I don't have time to hear about mama's romps or your accidental flasher tactics! I gotta meet Sarah at the cast…uhh...Orange Orange!"

Chuck raced out the sliding doors before Morgan could utter a word, and the bearded sales-clerk threw up his hands annoyed.

"Ya think my best friend in the world would be there for me, ya know? I'm going through rough times! He has no idea how serious mom's relationship with Big Mike so isn't!" Morgan belted out to no one in particular.

He picked up his clipboard with a list of applicants and as he turned, nearly crashed into Jeff and Lester.

"Don't you guys ever have work to do?" He snarled. Morgan was still teed off over their farce trying to hire supermodels as the new green shirts.

"I can't believe you nearly got Chuck and me fired!"

Lester patted his shoulder with the smarmy, calm manner he'd mastered. "But it almost worked, dear Morgan. Jeff here just got a little…frisky."

"I wouldn't call recreating 'the scene' from Basic Instinct, frisky. More like psychotic, pathetic and…"

"Brilliant, just brilliant." Jeff murmured. Jeff had stared blankly at the store entrance since Chuck's departure.

"I wonder why he rushes back and forth so much? It's gotta be those banana smoothies…If I had a woman who used a knife the way she did, I'd wanna be hacked to pieces."

Jeff scratched what was left of his frazzled hair, flicked his crusted fingers, and stood behind the Nerd Herd. Morgan held his head and Lester groaned. He wiped his shirt, and shivered in revulsion.

"Can we just forget that incident ever happened, Morgan? You and Chuck are still here, don't you realize you're both indispensable? Besides, the plumbing will get pretty rusty if Big Mike fires you. "

Lester grinned wickedly, then clamped his mouth shut. It felt extremely sore after John Casey tossed into the fence and he nearly swallowed his apple whole. He was thankful he still had all his pearly white teeth. He hurried away before Morgan retaliated.

Morgan stuck out his tongue, and then faced the growing line of oddballs desperate for employment.

"Up next, 'who'…your name is, Who Watson?' Somebody's parents watched a little too much Abbot and Costello…this dude was probably conceived during a 'Who's on first?' skit." He muttered.

He snapped and pointed at the greasy, middle-aged wallflower to follow him to the office. For him, it would be a very long and arduous day at the Buy More.

~Oo~

Chuck punched the code to enter the Castle chamber and rushed down the stairs three at a time. Sarah called him five minutes ago with daunting news…Casey was missing. Chuck had wondered why the big man wasn't at his assigned area bright and early. The snarling, rough as sandpaper Casey never fell sick unless intentionally poisoned. He only seemed to reserve free time away from the store for even more NSA work.

Sarah was ready to begin the briefing with General Beckman, and neither looked happy.

"Sarah, I didn't like your tone of voice, what do you mean, Casey's missing? I guess he's not vacationing in the Bahamas?"

"Hello to you too, Chuck. I meant what I said. Casey's missing…as in, he may have been abducted."

Chuck glanced at the monitor and back at Sarah. She and Beckman wore their stoniest expressions and he held back any of his snide jokes that would normally fly at these awkward moments. Chuck recognized the fear and concern in Sarah's gentle, aquamarine eyes. Despite the fact that Casey was a hard nose, he was still her partner. They had come to a mutual understanding with a propitious 'I got your back, you got mine' rapport.

"Kidnapped! That's impossible! Casey would never allow that happen! How? Who? Where? When?" He fumbled.

"If you will calm yourself down, I'll explain all that, along with perhaps, what and why? But first I need you to look at these images. Hopefully you'll flash on something." General Beckman retorted.

The monitors alongside hers flickered, and dated pictures of a very tan and striking man in his fifties with coal black hair and lethal eyes to match, popped up. There were surveillance shots of confiscated warehouses full of drugs and powerful arms, and one pleasant image in the middle. The man rested on a shady, white marble veranda. He was slurping a fruity Mai Tai and was about to receive an oily rubdown from one of his fake chested, gorgeous assistants.

"Who's the man getting sautéed by the Mexican Pam Anderson?" Chuck asked, peering closer. Sarah zoomed the image for him.

"He is the Billionaire Damien Augustino Ochoa, one of the world's…"

Neither woman noticed Chuck's eyes flicker and grow heavy lidded with a sudden flash. He blinked rapidly from an onslaught of violent criminal images with vicious gun play, brutal knifings, drug smuggling, and lastly, though out of place, big game hunting. He grabbed a pen and scrap paper from the table and wrote out a long number, then typed it into the system and sent it to Beckman.

Beckman smirked contented. "I assume now you have something useful to add, Bartowski?"

Chuck snapped out of his stupor. "Umm, yeah. I do. The shiny silver cross he's wearing has a foreign bank account number embedded on it. Damien Ochoa was on everyone's hit list since he was a gangbanging teenager in Mexico during the late sixties. He worked his way up to become the most notorious drug dealer in Latin America, yet managed to stay under the radar until 1991 when…"

He paused, unsure of himself, and glanced at Sarah. She was desperate for him to continue. Without Casey's menacing, but oddly reassuring presence in the briefing room, they all felt ill at ease and Chuck was about to drop the next bombshell.

"…When, young, NSA Agent Jonathan Casey infiltrated his mansion in Acapulco and brought down his vast coke empire. Casey killed Damien's brother and financial advisor, Emilio Ochoa. Damien escaped capture and went into hiding somewhere in Africa. Now he's back and it looks like he's settled in the remotest part of Cabo San Lucas…that picture's from 2002. We can't be sure about his present location, it could still be Cabo."

Chuck blurted out his Intel with speed and authority. He was learning how to control his flashes and make sense of the information battering his consciousness during his eight-second brain freeze intervals. His mind worked over-time in the last month since being exposed to Fulcrum's additional Intel of embedded images.

Sarah nodded slowly. She'd read about Ochoa's troubled background. The Latin drug lord was always close to the top of the CIA's most wanted, along with the F.B.I, NSA, and every other American Government agency down to the Internal Revenue Service.

"Is he Fulcrum, Chuck?" Sarah asked.

"No…that didn't come up, I think he's just on his own as a baddie. Sometimes we have to stray a little from the Fulcrum herd, we don't want our villains to get monotonous…heh…ah, never mind."

Sarah shrugged and turned back to the monitor. "So General, what's our next plan of action?"

"We can't be too sure yet, Agent Walker. There's been no solid evidence to support that Ochoa made any moves in Casey's direction. Neither can we confirm if Casey is in fact, missing."

Chuck felt the urge to interject. "I must disagree, General…"

Beckman's eyes narrowed and she folded her arms. "What is it now, Bartowski?"

Chuck stood at attention. He was the 'King' of the castle at present, and he desired to take some control over the situation…though he'd never tell that to Sarah.

"With all due respect, General, Casey has never neglected to contact one of us if he knew he wouldn't be coming to the Buy More. I really think we should go on our gut instinct with this and believe the worst…well…ya know…not the worst…but at least that he was kidnapped, and that Ochoa's the perpetrator."

Sarah supported him with a tiny grin. He'd certainly matured in his role as the Intersect and learned to handle his position on the team. She felt very proud of him. General Beckman was surprised with Chuck's tone. She sighed and nodded firmly.

"Very well, I'll have more information on the circumstances in Cabo San Lucas and that secret account within the next hour. Agent Walker, go to Casey's home and look for potential signs of a break-in. Report back to me immediately."

Sarah gulped and agreed. She was afraid of finding Casey dead in his leather easy chair. Chuck clutched her hand when the General clicked off.

"Hey…I umm…I can put in for a "repair call" and come with you. Not that you need me there or anything!" He added hastily, and dropped his hand. "Ya know…just for moral support or something."

"You really don't have to, Chuck. I can handle it.."

"No, please! I want to…and I'd do anything to get away from the Buy More and Morgan's stories about his mom and…"

Sarah put her hands to her ears. "Chuck, I just had lunch."

"Oh, right…it's pretty vomit inducing. Please let me come, I promise I won't be any trouble. I could be of some use."

Sarah laughed lightly. "Chuck, you don't cause trouble, you're the one usually in it."

Chuck smiled apprehensively. "This time the shoe's on the other foot, Casey's always stuck his thick neck out for me."

"Yeah, me too. It's funny, he told me a few days ago that he forgives me for scarring his hand with the Weinerlicious wood sticks. He said it was an excellent fight maneuver he'll be sure to remember. Something's different about him lately."

Chuck understood. Ever since Casey and Sarah had thought Chuck died in the Nerd Herd car explosion, Casey used less colorful insults and was all around more complimentary toward Chuck's vastly improved spy skills.

"Maybe he's finally turning over a new leaf… it's a new year, a new season…the man's approaching middle age, it's a time for reflection and midlife crisis. Hey, do you think that's what it is? Going through the motions?"

"Maybe, but Casey's not the type to shrivel up under his own insecurities…if he has any. Let's just hope he went on a bender or something and is snoring away at home, okay?" Sarah said optimistically.

"Exactly! I bet hooked up with Roan Montgomery and they went out for a night on the town. Mano a Mano...heh...sorta." Chuck mused.

"That's good Chuck, stay positive." She remarked to his offbeat comment.

Sarah's heavy heart told her something different. Casey was in trouble, and it was up to them to find him.