All right, my little wallabies. This is my Who Are You Challenge entry, an entry to a wonderful little experiment run by Fated Love. Now this isn't the exact version you saw in the challenge. It's longer, with additional scenes and a few alterations to clean up prior mistakes.

Oh, and just because I feel obligated, I need to send a message to daydreamer2578. Since obviously you can't read one of my humorous fics without spewing soda all over your computer, I advise that you put down whatever beverage you have in hand. Is it down? Okay then. Hopefully someday soon, I'll have another "Dancing After Midnight" fic for you and three others to enjoy, too.

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One Bourbon, One Scotch, and One Beer

(Or: Adventures in Babysitting a Drunk and Depressed CIA Operative)

A Sarah Walker/John Casey adventure

By Liam

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The first beer…

"The little shit did it to me AGAIN," the beautiful blond bemoaned.

She sat in the booth of the small crappy corner bar, brooding over a Budweiser. She looked positively pathetic in her orange and powder blue Orange Orange uniform.

Her gruff companion, dressed in Buy More barb, grunted as he lifted his scotch.

"The boy does appear to have a type. How he bags so many hotties, I'll never understand."

-If you don't already know, I can't make you understand- Sarah thought, but didn't verbalize.

"God, you're pathetic," John Casey snorted. "Look at you. Lovelorn for the geek."

"I'm not lovelorn," Sarah Walker defended. "He's just...inconsiderate in regards to our cover."

If Casey were a lesser man, he'd have choked on his scotch as he laughed. But this was damn good scotch, and it wouldn't do to waste it. Making an obscene comment…well, that was fair game.

"My well toned ass. Big, bad CIA chick's panties are in a bunch because her geek has wondering eyes. And hands, judging from last night's surveillance."

Sarah's glare would frighten a lesser man. But Casey had been in relationships with female agents before – both professional and romantic - and Walker was nothing unique. He could needle her just a bit more before she would become violent.

"For a guy who doesn't work out much, the boy's got surprising…stamina." Judging from the narrowing of her eyes and the tensing of her shooting hand, the needle just hit knock it off before I castrate you. "C'mon, the chick ain't all bad," Casey continued. "At least this one isn't Fulcrum."

"So you say. By the way, did you get that report I asked for?"

"You mean her high school transcripts? Yeah, they're in the Vic. Spoiler alert: she sucked at Calculus. Though that didn't stop her from being voted Prom Queen."

Sarah shuddered in silent fury. She grumbled, "Probably slept with the whole senior class…"

"Riiiiight. You're not jealous at all."

Sarah's response was to tip back her beer and finish it in one long, graceful gulp. Casey was actually impressed, especially when Sarah belched and promptly ordered a second bottle.

"You're driving," she clarified.

Casey grunted in reply.

---------------

After three beers…

Very slowly and carefully, Sarah brushed a stray strand of blond hair from her eyes. Beer in hand, she delicately pointed at Casey. Lips pursed, about to speak, she frowned. She lost her train of thought.

"Where was I?" she asked.

"She's a bitch," Casey supplied.

"Right!" Sarah cried, sloshing a little beer. "I mean, seriously, they met on an airplane. It's a doomed relationship from the start. I know for a fact. Do you know how many stewardesses I've picked up over the years?"

Casey straightened in his seat, intrigued. "No, but feel free to tell."

But Sarah was already moving to her next point. "And have you seen her hair?" she scoffed. "I've seen better styles on a poodle's ass."

"I think it's kinda cute in a boyish way," Casey offered.

"And her teeth…" She fixed Casey with a pathetic look. "I wore braces until I was 20."

Judging from Sarah's reaction, Casey did an excellent job of stifling his laugh.

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In the bathroom…

Sarah stared into the mirror, mouth open wide. With her fingers she pulled aside her lips, exposing her gums and teeth.

Behind her a toilet flushed. Another woman exited the stall. She stopped, staring as Sarah looked into the mirror. Fingers still in her mouth, pulling it wide, Sarah turned to face the woman and snapped, "What are you looking at?"

The woman hurried away. Sarah turned back to the mirror, now removing her fingers, but still keeping her lips wide. She ran her tongue over her teeth.

"I look like a damn rabbit," she muttered. "Stupid braces. Supposed to fix my teeth, not leaving me looking like Bugs freakin' Bunny."

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After six beers…

Head in hand, propped up on an elbow, Sarah took a long, slow drink. Another stray strand of hair fell in her eyes and she attempted to blow it away. It came out a funny sounding "pfft!" and sprayed a bit of saliva and beer in Casey's direction. She finally pushed it away manually, which greatly annoyed her.

"I'll cut you off later," she warned the errant strand. A perplexed look graced her face as she turned back to Casey. "What was I saying?"

"Maybe she's not such a bitch."

"Right!" Sarah cried out, then hiccupped. "Chuck deserves to find happiness with a nice girl. I mean, Hannah's smart. She went to Columbus for God's sake."

"Columbia."

"That's what I said. And she really is kinda pretty," Sarah said enviously. "I'd love to have her skin tone. And she does have a nice smile." A strange little smirk appeared on her face. A few moments later, Sarah said, "I can totally see what he sees in her. I mean, he does have great taste in women. Hannah's beautiful and charming. So was Lou, for that matter. And Jill…"

Sarah glanced around, seeing if anyone was eavesdropping. She then leaned across the table, indicating Casey to do the same. She whispered, "Casey, can I tell you something in confidence? Just between us?"

"Sure," he said, anticipating this revelation.

"I know that bitch Jill tried to kill me, but objectively speaking, if I met that girl in a bar…" She leaned in until she was whispering right into Casey's ear. "…I would wreck that ass."

Casey snapped around, staring at Sarah. His companion merely giggled drunkenly and nodded. "I mean positively wreck it. Full on 'Slam-Bam-Thank You-Ma'am'." She drained her beer as Casey gaped in astonishment. Sarah belched again and added, "That goes for Lou and Hannah, too."

She snapped her fingers at the waitress, indicating her desire for another beer.

"And probably his sister."

Casey gagged on his scotch.

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After bugging Casey for ten minutes, Sarah finally got a handful of dollar bills. She promptly went to the bar, exchanged the bills for quarters, and went to the jukebox in the corner. She dropped the quarters into the machine and giggled in delight as she chose a handful of songs.

She first grabbed a wide-eyed college boy and bounced around to .38 Special's Rockin' Into The Night, giggling like a joyous schoolgirl. The poor kid allowed himself to be led around the barroom floor. A decent looking kid, he was obviously in way over his head with Sarah Walker.

She then lured one of the waitresses out and slow danced to The Eagle's Desperado. The waitress swayed stiffly. Sarah buried her face in the woman's shoulder and bawled like a baby.

When Tom Petty's Free Fallin' started to play, Sarah saddled close to the jukebox and began to belt out the lyrics along with him.

"She's a good girl, loves her momma!

Loves Jesus and America too!

She's a good girl, crazy about Elvis!

Loves horses and her boyfriend too!

It's a long day livin' in Reseda!

There's a freeway runnin' through the yard!

And I'm a bad boy, because I don't even miss her!

I'm a bad boy for breakin' her heart!

(Chorus: And I'm free, I'm free fallin'!)

All the vampires walkin' through the valley!

Move west down Ventura Boulevard!

And all the bad boys are standin' in the shadows!

All the good girls are home with broken hearts!

(Chorus: And I'm free, I'm free fallin'!)

I wanna glide down over Mulholland!

I wanna write her name in the sky!

I wanna free fall out into nothin'!

Gonna leave this world for a while!

(Chorus: And I'm free, I'm free fallin'!)"

The crowd about the bar began to applaud fiercely. Sarah, tears in her eyes, actually curtsied in appreciation.

Casey just sat in the booth and rubbed his tired eyes.

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After eight beers…and two shots of Wild Turkey

The conversation had taken a decidedly not-so-fun turn. Casey sipped his scotch as Sarah bawled into her hands. When she looked back up, Sarah's mascara was running. Casey grimaced and offered her a cocktail napkin.

The waitress she slow danced with earlier walked by, observing the scene. "Is your girlfriend okay, sir?"

If looks could kill, the waitress would be dead. "She isn't my girlfriend," he said bluntly. The admission only seemed to send Sarah into another fit.

After the waitress walked away – and Sarah suitably recovered – she fixed Casey with bloodshot eyes. "Is it me?" she whimpered. "Is there something about me that people can't love?"

Casey shifted uncomfortably. Sarah pressed on.

"Why is it that everyone I care about leaves me? First my momma, then my daddy, then Bryce, now Chuck." She suddenly reached across the table and cupped Casey's hands. He puckered tighter than a snare drum. "Casey, is it because I'm not…pretty?"

Casey cleared his throat nervously. "You're very…pretty." Sarah broke into a relieved smile but continued to cry. "But it Geek Boy's defense, you have been making moon-eyes at Agent Shaw lately. And Barker before that. And Larkin before that. It gives the boy an impression."

"I know…I know," Sarah wept. "But dammit! Doesn't he know they're just eye candy? Does he really think the past two years have meant nothing to me?" Her mood shifted drastically again as she once more clutched his hands. "Casey…promise you'll never leave me. You're like the big brother I always wanted."

Casey hastily extricated his hands from her grasp. "And you're like the little sister I would have played 'hide and seek' with and never tried to seek."

Sarah half laughed and cried. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

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"Tell me…do you think I'm pretty?"

Sarah imploringly directed her query to the forty-something, chunky, barmaid. The woman – who looked to have a few thousand miles on her – glanced Sarah up and down appraisingly. She finally decided:

"Honey, if I looked like you, I would walk naked through City Hall just because I could."

Sarah was nearly moved to tears. She clutched the bar maid's hands in her own. "Thank you." She then looked to the other people sitting at the bar counter. Various bar regulars, truckers, and other unsavory sorts. "Do you guys think I'm pretty?"

The man nearest her, a heavyset fellow with a thick, rough beard and John Deere hat, laid his thick, meaty hand on her leg and squeezed. "I think you're real pretty, darlin'."

Sarah smiled warmly, placing her hand atop his. "Thank you!" With a sharp twist, she broke his right pointer finger. The man howled in pain. "But don't touch me, you fat, lecherous asshole, or I'll break the rest of your fingers."

The man rushed off, a few of his friends right behind. The barmaid looked admiringly at Sarah. "Would you like another beer? It's on the house."

"Yes," Sarah nodded enthusiastically. "I like beer."

Back in the booth, Casey shook his head and sighed.

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As they walked across the bar parking lot to Casey's Crown Vic, Sarah suddenly gasped and came to an abrupt halt. "Oh, Casey, wait a minute!"

"What?" he snapped.

"I just…I think…"

"What, Walker?"

"I think I just had an epidural."

Casey stared blankly. "Say huh?"

"You know, a revelation. I think I've achieved total consciousness."

"You mean you had an epiphany?"

Sarah glared back at him, fire in her eyes. "I have not and resent the implication. My momma raised me to be a good girl."

Casey lightly banged his head against the roof of the Vic. "What's your epidural, Walker?"

"Okay, okay, get this," she excitedly said. She paused a moment, allowing the suspense to build. Just when Casey thought he might have to shoot her, Sarah revealed her great theory.

"Crystal Pepsi was the greatest invention in the history of mankind."

Casey blankly stared a moment before declaring, "Not even close, dumbass."

"Okay, okay, hold on." Sarah took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She then announced, "By picking a fight with the NFL, Donald Trump and his ego essentially killed the USFL, a league well on its way to achieving financial viability."

Casey grunted in acknowledgment. "Well everybody knows that."

They climbed into the Vic. Sarah tried to pull on her seatbelt, but couldn't get the male end to buckle into the female. "I think mine's broken," she pouted.

Casey rolled his eyes and snapped her seatbelt into place. Sarah smiled widely and patted his cheek. "You're so nice to me. And you smell like sandalwood."

"Don't get creepy on me," Casey warned.

Sarah nodded drunkenly. As Casey threw the car into reverse, she declared, "Ooh! I got it!"

"This oughta be good."

"Since its cancellation of Millennium in 1999, followed closely by mistreatment of Brimstone, The Lone Gunmen, and The Visitor, FOX's handling of its sci-fi programming has been downright criminal."

Casey paused. "Okay, I buy that."

Sarah squirmed in her seat. "I wish you had seat warmers. My bottom is cold."

Sigh. "Walker…shut up."

"You know, Firefly was incredibly overrated."

"Bitch, I will smack you."

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Twenty minutes later…At Walgreen's

Casey stood by uncomfortably as Sarah tried to decide. In one hand, a box of Clairol blond hair dye – her usual dye, he suspected. In the other, a box of Clairol brunette hair dye. He tried to keep enough distance so no one would suspect he was with the girl crying as she checked hair supplies, but close enough to keep her from doing anything stupid.

"Look at that," he said, checking a nearby display stand. "They got little vampire PEZ dispensers."

A moment later, Sarah shuffled up to him, head down, looking absolutely pathetic. She still had both boxes of hair dye in hand. "Casey," she whimpered, "I want to get both, but I forgot my wallet at home."

She then stumbled, catching herself on the shelf of Herbal Essences shampoos. She couldn't quite meet Casey's eyes, but the pout was unmistakable.

"Dammit," Casey said. "Fine. But you owe me."

Sarah sniffed and wiped her runny nose on the sleeve of her powder blue Orange Orange hoodie. Casey grimaced and led her to the checkout line.

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In the Crown Vic…Twenty Minutes Later

"Walker, gimme the damn phone!"

"No!"

Sarah crawled between the front seats and collapsed in back. She moved towards the passenger side, up against the door, far away from Casey and lightly kicked his right hand as he tried to grab her iPhone while keeping a grip on the steering wheel with his left.

"Walker, you're pissing me off!"

"Tough!" With drunken fingers, she finally managed to finish entering the phone number. A couple rings later, an answering machine picked up.

"Hi! This is Hannah Hart. Please leave your message after the tone."

BEEP!

Sarah held the phone directly before her face. "Bitch! He's my man! You can't have him! To stake my proper claim, I challenge you, madam, to a duel. Pick your weapon of choice and meet me on the Common at dawn! By the way, I hate your hair-- Casey! Gimme back my phone, you sonofabitch! I gotta call my daddy and ask him to love me!"

Finally getting the phone, Casey tucked it into his jacket. "You can have it back when you're sober." He peered at Sarah in the rearview mirror. "Which might be awhile."

Sarah began to turn green. "Casey. Can you stop the car? I gotta upchuck." She started to whimper and cry. "Oh God. I said Chuck."

Casey sighed. "I did not sign on for this."

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Thirty Minutes Later…Outside a Convenience Store Restroom

Sarah exited, looking worn from projectile vomiting. Casey offered her some paper towels he moistened in the water fountain.

"You okay?"

"Oh God. Did I really drunk dial Chuck's girlfriend and leave a pissy message on her answering machine?"

"Mm hmm."

She looked up at Casey, eyes pleading. "Casey…I gotta delete that message."

It took a moment for Casey to process. When he did… "Aw, dammit."

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Sarah laid in the backseat of the Vic, staring at the roof, wet paper towels to her head.

"I'm so lonely," she said.

Casey grunted. He knew where this conversation was going. She wanted to discuss her…lady feelings.

"I don't have any friends," Sarah continued to bemoan. "I can't talk to other agents. I can't talk to YOU."

Casey shuddered.

"I wish I had a friend. I mean, Ellie's nice, but I can't talk to her. I mean, seriously, I can't talk to her. Every time we try to have a real conversation I stutter a lot."

Casey rubbed his tired eyes. He never should have offered to buy Walker a drink.

"And my romantic life is for shit."

Casey snorted.

"God…I haven't had an orgasm that wasn't self induced since this mission began."

Casey momentarily lost control of the wheel, barely pulling it back into the proper lane before colliding with an oncoming Ford Mustang.

"Even with Bryce Larkin blowing into town a couple times?" Casey asked when he suitably recovered.

"I don't want to disparage Bryce's character, him being dead and all," Sarah said. "But there was never a strong correlation between him and inducing orgasms."

Casey had to pull the Vic over for a few moments to catch his breath, he was laughing so hard. Okay, maybe buying her a drink wasn't such a bad idea…

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Thirty Minutes Later…At Hannah's Apartment Complex

"Oh God!" Sarah cried, clutching her head.

"You okay?" Casey asked, not really caring.

"No," she said through gritted teeth. "I think I'm sobering up."

They crossed the courtyard of the darkened apartment complex. It was nearly two am, so they didn't expect anyone about. But one never knows…

Sarah produced her lock picks and set to work on the front door of apartment six.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Casey asked.

"I'm drunk, not stupid," Sarah spat back. They paused a moment to reflect. "Point taken. Look, all it needs is a little jiggle…"

A thirty-something black man and his wife answered the door, bleary eyed. "Are you…trying to break in?" he asked.

Sarah and Casey struggled for a reply, caught like deer in headlights. Finally, Sarah offered, "This isn't Hannah Hart's apartment?"

"She's number five," the wife said, pointing across the courtyard. Both agents followed her finger.

"What are you doing?" the man asked again.

"Uh…booty call," Sarah offered. The couple stared at her, then Casey. Casey simply stared at Sarah. The blond agent offered, "What? You never wake up at two am craving a threesome?"

Casey groaned. The couple shifted nervously, both blushing slightly.

The agents and couple bid each other goodnight. As the agents wandered to apartment five, Casey said: "You know I'm never letting you drink alcohol again, right?"

It took a couple minutes to pick the lock, because as Sarah said, the damn thing wouldn't hold still. But ultimately they entered the small, but stylish apartment.

"Oh God. Can you believe the color of that couch?" Sarah snorted. "My vomit was that color."

"That's a delightful image," Casey sighed.

"Look at this furniture," Sarah continued. "Did she order everything out of the Yuppies With No Taste Home Journal? Sit in that chair and tell me it's comfortable." She pointed to a small black chair tucked against the wall.

"I'm not in the mood to sit, Walker. Let's just erase her answering machine…"

"I said sit," she commanded.

Whether it was her tone or facial expression, Casey felt compelled to comply. He sat in the chair and fidgeted a moment before declaring, "You're right. It's uncomfortable."

"See!" she declared, vindicated. "What kind of superficial bimbo buys a chair that's uncomfortable to sit in?"

"An extra-superficial one?" Casey asked when it appeared Sarah was demanding an answer to her rhetorical question.

"Exactly!" After her cry of triumph, Sarah proceeded to scratch her belly and look around. "I wonder if she's got any beer in the fridge. And maybe pretzels. I'm craving something salty."

As she moved towards the kitchen, Casey's voice stopped her. "Hey! Forget the beer. Just erase the answering machine."

Sarah stared blankly. "Huh?" It took a few moments for his strange words to process. "Oh! The answering machine!"

Sarah stumbled to the kitchen counter and found the device. Instead of simply pressing 'Delete', she grabbed the machine, hoisted it up, and then slammed it into the counter, shattering it to pieces. After which, Casey stared in disbelief as she went to the fridge, found a bottle of red wine and bag of mini Twix candy bars, and then walked by him, declaring, "Wine and chocolate will do fine. Let's roll."

Casey ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I should ask for a transfer," he decided before following.

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"I don't wanna!" Sarah drunkenly declared. Wine bottle in hand, she pointed a finger directly into Casey's chest. "And you can't make me! Mister Growly Pants. Pfft!" her comments punctuated by blowing a raspberry at her colleague. Her voice echoed against the concrete walls of her hotel's parking garage.

"Walker, I don't want to hear it. You're going upstairs and to bed."

"Ew!" she cried, crinkling her nose. "I told you! You're like a brother!"

Casey pinched the bridge of his nose. "Walker, we've been working together over two years now, so I owe it to you to tell you straight. I want to punch you in the face."

Sarah held her arms wide, inviting him to swing. "Want some? Come get some."

Casey moved to grab her hand and lead her to the elevator. Sarah took that as a sign of aggression and launched a long, loopy swing at his head. Casey easily dodged the punch. Sarah stumbled a few feet, turned, and launched herself at Casey. She slammed into his chest and bounced away like a pinball.

"Are you done?" Casey asked.

"I don't wanna go home," Sarah whined again. "And you can't make me." It was then that Casey noticed that Sarah was holding a Sig Sauer. Casey checked his holster. It was HIS Sig Sauer. The lush stole his gun! Fantastic. Sarah was drunk, horny, and armed. This wasn't going to end well…

"Walker, give me the gun."

Sarah held the gun awkwardly, trying to release the safety. BOOM! Sarah whooped and startled as the gun fired, the bullet smashing through the rear window of someone's Acura.

"Oh my God! I shot early! I swear, Casey, that's never happened to me before."

Casey rushed forward and snatched the pistol away. "Yeah, well, it happens when you're drunk." Then, mumbling, he added, "And don't let Carina tell you any different."

He holstered his weapon and latched a big, beefy hand around Sarah's bicep. Still with some fight in her, Sarah wheeled around and tried to clock Casey with another roundhouse. Casey ducked the punch, caught Sarah by the waist, and threw her over his shoulder. The blonde burst into giggles.

"Weee!" she laughed. "Giddyap!" She gave Casey's ass a hard swat. "Giddyap! Just don't twirl me. I might still hurl."

As Sarah continued to laugh and implore her horse onward, Casey couldn't help but think he deserved a promotion to full colonel for this.

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Casey unceremoniously dropped his cargo on the bed. Sarah let out a "whoop!" and bounced around a bit. She laughed as she tried to get comfortable, but then moaned in disappointment as Casey took away her wine.

"Go to sleep, Walker," he ordered. "See you tomorrow." As Casey turned to leave, he heard her soft voice whimper:

"I just want somebody to love me."

Casey hesitated. He didn't particularly want to engage in this conversation, but Sarah looked so pitiful laying there, staring up at the ceiling. Mustering up all his compassion, he returned to Sarah's side. She looked at him with wet, doe eyes.

"I think there's something wrong with me," she whimpered. "Cuz everybody always leaves. Why doesn't anyone ever stay? Am I a bad person?"

"Aw hell, Walker," Casey grunted. "I ain't going anywhere."

"Do you promise?"

A flippant remark was on the tip of his tongue. But looking into her eyes, Casey realized he had to give the young woman something tangible.

"Yeah, I promise."

In a flash, Sarah bolted upright and threw her arms around his waist. Casey froze, surprised by the contact. His initial instinct was to throw her aside. But as the blonde clutched him for dear life, crying into his thigh, Casey's hand went to her back and began to rub soothing circles.

When she finally cried herself out, Sarah collapsed back onto bed, a grateful smile at her lips. "You really are nice, Casey," she insisted. She then turned onto her side and clutched a pillow like a teddy bear. "You smell nice, too."

Sarah then fell asleep.

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The Next Morning…And A Very Potent Hangover Later

"Sod off or die!" Sarah yelled at the pounding at her hotel room door.

The pounding stopped, but not the way she anticipated. She heard the door swing open and footsteps approach the bed. Instinctively, her hand reached beneath her pillow….

The blade didn't even come close to hitting Chuck, her hangover severely disrupting her aim. For his part, Chuck seemed amused by this.

"Wow. You really must not be feeling good. I've never seen your aim so off."

"Chuck, I am so sorry," Sarah apologized.

Chuck waved her off. "It's okay. If I were truly in danger, my new Intersect programming would have gone into self-preservation mode. Deflect that blade with my kung-fu." He proceeded to demonstrate his kung fu, drawing a laugh from her. He sat on the bed next to her. "Which brings me to why I'm here. Are you okay? It's not like you to miss work. Even serving yogurt."

"Just, uh, a 24-hour flu bug."

"Ah. Well maybe this will make you feel better." From behind his back, Chuck produced a bouquet of gardenias.

A dopey smile appeared on Sarah's face as she accepted the flowers. "Thank you. But aren't you only supposed to give flowers to your real girlfriend?"

Chuck appeared chagrined. "I don't have one anymore." Off Sarah's curious look: "Hannah and I decided to go our separate ways last night."

Sarah managed to not sound too excited as she asked, "Why?"

"I guess…" he fixed Sarah with a steady gaze, "…she just wasn't what I was looking for."

Sarah's breath caught. "I'm sorry," she lied.

"Oh well," he casually said. "It's probably for the best. Though I admit, she did stay at my place last night."

Sarah didn't like that at all. "Why?"

Chuck shook his head in confusion. "It's weird. It took her home, but someone broke into her apartment. But they didn't steal anything besides candy and wine. Oh, and they broke her answering machine."

Sarah buried her head beneath the pillow. "Very strange," was her muffled reply.

Chuck nodded in agreement. "Anyway, I'll let you rest. Call me if you need anything."

Sarah poked her head out to watch Chuck wander into her kitchen. He placed the flowers into a vase of water and then checked her refrigerator. "I'll bring you some soup and yogurt," he promised.

"Thank you," Sarah shyly smiled.

With his own goofy grin, he turned to leave. Before he did, he said, "I like your hair."

Sarah frowned. "Huh?"

"The brunette look. It's an interesting change. Of course, I loved the blond, too."

Chuck left and therefore didn't see how Sarah grabbed a strand of hair and held it before her eyes. She gasped in horror at the sight of recently dyed brunette locks. Before she could get up and rush into the bathroom to dye it back, her cell phone rang. She checked the ID to find Casey's face scowling at her.

"Casey."

"How ya doin', Walker?"

"Better, thanks. Look, Casey…"

"Wild night, huh? It's good to let off steam on occasion."

Sarah hesitated. Was he…giving her an out? "Yeah, it is."

"Gotta be honest though. I don't think I wanna drink with you every night."

"I know. When I drink – a lot, that is – I become…"

"Pathetic? Weird? Insane?"

Sarah quirked a brow. "I was gonna say 'a different person', but yeah. Listen, you're not gonna tell Beckman…"

Casey interrupted, like he wasn't even listening. "Hey, you gonna be okay to come into Castle this evening? We still have to file mission reports from the past month."

Sometimes, just sometimes, Casey pleasantly surprised her. "Yeah. Seven o'clock?"

"Fine. Bring dinner. I'm in the mood for Subway."

Just before he could disconnect, Sarah blurted, "Casey? Thanks."

There was a long pause. "What are partners for?" he asked. Then, before abruptly disconnecting, he gruffly reminded, "Don't forget the Subway."

With a smile, Sarah tossed her phone aside and curled back in bed. So much bad news lately…maybe things were finally looking up.

Now she just had to dye her hair back to its "natural" color.

THE END