A/N: Okay, since I apparently forgot this the first time around, let's try it again. I promise to be brief. This is my first foray into the world of Chuck. I hope you enjoy, and I'd love a review (maybe as a Christmas present?) Merry Christmas everyone!
Since it was getting close to dinner time, my next stop was the apartment complex where I would be living. Casing the parking lot, I located my new ride. For what I had determined about Meghan so far, it fit my cover perfectly. A girl like Meghan would have a sporty car, because she was a sporty person, and she was hot, and most definitely using her hotness to get what she wanted. Meghan has brown hair with auburn highlights. She has brown eyes, and fair skin, that will hopefully tan, not burn. Meghan is going to be showy. She will use her beauty and charm to get what she wants; something Grace was never allowed to do.
I set my bags down in the center of the courtyard, and after ensuring that the area was clear, I sat on the edge of the fountain, facing the only entrance to the courtyard, from the parking lot. My left hand drifted to the spot on my right side, in the middle of my rib cage, and I rested it there for a few moments, hoping to dull the ache that was now becoming more noticeable. Too much moving, too much stretching. Maybe I should have listened more carefully to the doctors. I fished some painkillers out of one of my bags, and swallowed the pills. I hoped that John Casey wouldn't be long.
John Casey was, surprisingly, one of the last people to return to the complex that night. It was well past seven when he finally arrived. Until then, I had been looked at and greeted by no less than three other people, who I assumed to be my new neighbors. They seemed like mostly nice people.
I stood up when I saw John Casey striding into the courtyard, carrying a backpack that looked far too government issued to contain anything for his job at the Buy More.
"Hi," I said. "I'm Meghan Gray."
"John Casey," he said, and he held out his hand. I shook it, and then picked up my bags and followed him to his apartment. While he unlocked the door, I glanced around and saw a woman, the same woman who greeted me earlier, a doctor of some sort, peeking out a window.
"Who lives in that apartment?" I asked.
"That's Ellie Bartowski," Casey answered, opening the door. "Your room is down that hall. I left the door open," Casey said, and then he disappeared into the apartment. I made my way down the hall and set my bags down on the bed. Turning on the light, I looked around. It was a plain empty room, obviously furnished by the government. I quickly located the bug, but left it alone. It was Casey's apartment. If he wanted to spy on me, that was up to him. I might even have some fun with it later.
I began to unpack, putting my make up bag on top of the dresser, my new clothes in the dresser, and my shoes beneath my bed. Out of my suitcase, I pulled many black outfits, and put those in their own drawer. Those were mission clothes. All in all, my unpacking took about a half hour. What can I say, two suitcases and a few hours shopping doesn't leave a whole lot.
Dropping my shower things and towels in the bathroom on my way by, I headed into the main part of the apartment, looking for Casey and hopefully dinner. Finding neither, I began pacing the apartment, filing away the layout, the distances and the locations of furniture for future reference.
Upon hearing a knock at the door, I automatically reached to the small of my back, where a gun belonged. Finding nothing, I reached for my ankle, looking for a knife. Again, nothing. Then I remembered. I was not Grace Tarpin. I was not Agent K. I was Meghan Gray, frozen yogurt girl. Frozen yogurt girls, to my knowledge, had no need for hidden knives or guns. Hence why I had nothing.
Thankfully, Casey appeared, holding his own gun, and he opened the door to an attractive blonde, carrying a large box and dragging a rolling case. Tucking his gun away, Casey took the box from the blonde, and carried it into the apartment.
After the blonde closed the door, she turned to me.
"I'm Sarah Walker. I work with Casey on Operation Bartowski."
"Hi," I was confused. The doctor lady? I had received no briefing on this operation in DC. "I'm Meghan Gray."
"Nice to meet you. We'll be working together at Orange Orange."
"Oh." Meghan wasn't feeling talkative tonight. That was my body talking, telling me I screwed up and overdid it. Too soon. Much too soon.
"This stuff is all for you," Sarah said. "The box is uniforms for Orange Orange, and the case is guns."
"Oh goody," I said. "I love guns." John Casey grunted. "I'll just take this to my room," I said, to fill the silence. I picked up the box, ouch, and Sarah followed me with the case.
I set the box on my bed, and when I heard the door close, I whirled around, reaching again for the missing gun.
"Relax, it's just me," Sarah said. "You'll get your official briefing tomorrow, but I thought I'd warn you about Casey tonight."
My eyes widened. "Warn?"
"He's mostly harmless if you don't piss him off. He's not happy with General Beckman right now, that's all."
"Why?" I guess Meghan is a questioner.
"She's the one who put you in his apartment. He's mad at her, not you. He'll come round."
"What's he like?"
"Quiet, angry… he likes guns. And he's in love with his car."
"Oh."
I've never lived with a man before. Hell, I haven't lived with another person since I moved out of my parents' house nine years ago. I don't remember how to interact, how to seduce, how to make friends. I remember survival because I learned it. I remember pretending because the last three years of my life have been a complete lie. And now I have to start a whole new lie, all over again.
