Ellie vs. the Birthday

Author: brandywine00

Chapter rating: PG

Written for jellie_rayneluv: Happy Birthday, Evil Brain Twin! And thanks for the beta!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Chuck-related, no infringement intended. My first Jellie ship fic, so please be gentle, but honest. Please review! Author's note: This is pre-The Ring episode, Ellie and Awesome are engaged, and Chuck does not have the Intersect 2.0 yet, but still has the old one. Comments and constructive critiques appreciated!

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He'd always been a thorough man. Meticulous. Attentive to the fine details of his job. His life depended on constant awareness of all things subtle, as did the lives of those within his realm of responsibility and protection.

Colonel John Casey officially had the night off. Walker and Bartowski were headed off on their "romantic ski weekend", the cover story that would allow them to scope out the new mountain resort. Intel suggested the place may be a commonly used rendezvous point for Fulcrum, but the data was stale. The nerd and his handler had orders only to scout around, see if Chuck flashed on anything, but not to engage. Yeah, right. And he always stayed in the car, just like he was ordered.

Given that it wasn't expected to be a heavy mission, Beckman didn't see the need to find John a cover to join them. Suited the Colonel just fine. Two whole nights with no watching Walker and Bartowski dance around whatever really was between them in their fake relationship. No sandwich debate. No listening to the morons argue over who was hotter, Princess Leia or that legalized prostitute on some sci-fi space western named after an insect. He could still hear their last argument in his brain.

"Dude, Inara would totally snatch Solo away from Leia so fast her hair-buns would wobble!"

"Are you insane? Inara doesn't have latent Jedi powers, and besides, Leia would so make an awesome Companion!"

"Both know swordplay, though. They could duel it out over Solo and Mal. Who do you think would win?"

"Depends on what would you consider the prize for a win? Mal or Solo?"

"Both own a smuggling ship, though undoubtedly the Millennium Falcon has the size advantage."

"What does size have to do with it? Size doesn't matter, everybody says that!"

"Keep on believing that, buddy."

"Yeah, but Mal would never let a Wookie on the ship! "

John growled to no one in particular, still trying to scour more than two years worth of inane babble from his mind. Between the nerd, his bearded-troll buddy, and anyone remotely associated with the hell known as Buy More, there was only one normal, pleasant, rewarding aspect to this whole crap-ass mission. And that aspect had just walked through the courtyard on her way home.

He frowned. Eleanor Faye Bartowski, M.D., did not look happy. He knew she should have come home several hours ago… it was his job to keep up with the asset and all things that could potentially impact the Intesect… A discreet call to Westside had confirmed her extended shift, no cause for alarm.

The usually vivacious woman fumbled with her keys, her shoulders slumped under the blue medical scrubs. The jaunty ponytail she'd left with this morning now hung low and slightly off-kilter, more than a few strands of her luxurious chestnut hair escaping. Frustrated with the uncooperative key, she let her head rest against the door for a moment before straightening and unlocking it. The living room window lit up a moment later.

Must have been a rough day… Ellie was a caring, dedicated, hard-working lady, all traits he admired in a woman. It wasn't unusual for her to cover extra shifts at the emergency room so her co-workers could attend to their families. Private lives. Real lives.

Something wasn't adding up, though. She'd been gone less than eighteen hours, a stretch Ellie could easily pull, and still come home cheery and smiling for those she loved. The Ellie he'd seen tonight was not smiling. Or feeling cheery. Or feeling loved.

John sat down hard in his leather recliner at that thought. Where had that come from? Something wasn't adding up, some piece of Ellie's world was out of sync, more so than usual. He flipped on the listening device on the side table, slipped the earphones on his head. If something's wrong, it could affect the Intersect, he rationalized to himself as he pulled up the video feed from Casa Bartowski.

The scene hit him like a hammer to the gut. Place was a wreck, both Bartowski and Awesome had rushed off to their weekend plans and left Ellie a mess to clean up. Inconsiderate children… But her reaction caused a twisting in his chest that nearly caused him to rush across the courtyard to her. Being neighborly, is all…

She was crying. Not the open, uncontrollable wailing some women did, but softly. A quiet, subdued, hushed crying. Like she didn't want anyone to know. Like she wasn't allowed to get upset and cry.

On the very lowest end of the sound, John made out an almost whispered tune. He doubted he'd be able to place it, except was a tune so recognizable a child could have put the name to it. "Happy birthday to me…. (sniffle) … happy birthday to me…"

She stood and began clearing the offensive coffee table, leaving the dishes in the sink… very uncharacteristic of Ellie…

When she started toward the shower, pulling the wounded ponytail loose, Colonel John Casey's mind began forming a plan.

He'd have to hurry to make this work…

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To be continued….