I don't own Chuck et al.
Chuck managed to loose half of the police cars chasing them in the garden section of the Large Mart, when he was able to pull off a Scandinavian flick (the first of his life), and drift into the other aisle, two down (power tools).
"Thank you Captain Slow" Chuck muttered ignoring Sarah and Casey's "Who?" while they fishtailed for ten feet.
Seven of the police cars following tangled themselves up amongst the agapanthuses, when the second clipped the lead police car.
Another couple of turns, and they were able to loose a further four, who got lost in the stationery and office furniture aisles.
Finding their explosive entry point, Chuck drove back out onto the lot, and made a bee line for the exit back onto Burbank Boulevard. Chuck's iPhone scanner app let them know that a reasonable percentage of their entourage was now otherwise engaged.
"Freeway!" pointed Casey, leading Chuck to understand that Casey wanted him to take the exit. The traffic on the freeway was fairly light. The good thing about that was it allowed Chuck to build up some speed and distance. The bad thing was the news chopper found them. That meant the cops would soon know where they were.
As soon as they got onto the freeway, Casey had gotten onto his phone, and was barking orders as if he was a major in the Marines.
After fourteen minutes of weaving though the light traffic, Casey amazed Chuck with his solution "Chuck, that talking car show, ever see it? OK, OK. Well, you're gonna do the drive into the back of a truck stunt. Except, this time it'll be..."
And then a very large helicopter, the kind with two large rotors, front and back, descended in front of them. The tail ramp of the Chinook was down, and the chopper was effectively doing a very high speed taxi, six feet over the surface of the freeway, matching Chuck's speed. For some reason, the other traffic gave the chopper and Chuck a bit of distance.
"OK, I think he's got the idea" said Sarah when she saw Chuck's expression. Chuck flashed his lights and accelerated. The loadmaster in the back waved (and then moved well off to the side), and then the huge craft touched down with a large puff of tire smoke and sparks as the ramp dragged along the concrete.
The Dodge bu-doummbed up the ramp and into the cavity of the Chinook's hold. As soon as Chuck came to a rest, the world leant backwards as the Chinook regained her natural element. Chuck view in the mirror was scary as all hell. All he could see was the concrete of the freeway, and then more and more of the world as the craft climbed. When they levelled off, Casey tapped him on the shoulder indicating the crewmen near the wheels giving an OK signal.
"You can stop trying to push the brake pedal through the floor now" he added.
The trio got out of the Dodge as the tail ramp was being raised. The back of a Chinook is a noisy place, Chuck discovered. Casey led them forward, away from the twin gas turbines that were the source of the noise. They still had to yell a little to have a conversation.
"Why were the cops following us?" Chuck wanted to know.
"Fulcrum must have tipped them off" guessed Casey over the noise.
-o0o-
Chuck stood at the tail ramp, watching the lights of LA pass below him through the partly opened ramp. He sensed movement beside him, and turned to find Casey also contemplating the view.
After a moment, Casey indicated the plug of the noise cancelling intercom/headset they'd been loaned. Chuck plugged his in to the socket beside the one Casey used, and looked at the large man questioningly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah further forward find a socket also. He smiled a little to himself, his girlfriend was checking up on him.
"These guys were on their way to Edwards, when they got diverted to help us. We've got a bit over half an hour before we get there" Casey paused. Perhaps being back in the hold of one of these had made him nostalgic... "When I was younger, they used to let to surf out the back of these things."
"Surf?" Chuck asked confused by the a he wouldn't normally associate with a military helicopter.
"Harness, and a safety line. You jump out, and get dragged behind. Like free fall. Position yourself against the airflow. Great fun. Can't do that anymore."
"OSHA." Guessed Chuck. Casey nodded. The words "Nanny state" were too quiet to activate the intercom.
When Casey unplugged and wandered off to the pointy end, Chuck looked back a Sarah with eyebrows raised. She shrugged back at him.
God, he hoped Casey wasn't trying to organise a 'special treat' for him.
-o0o-
When the Chinook landed, Casey said to the loadmaster "My compliments to captain Wash."
Chuck stopped walking as if he'd suddenly dropped anchor. He did a quadruple take, his mouth framing a question before Sarah came back for him, and yanked him into motion.
"A veritable leaf on the breeze" Chuck muttered to himself as the trio walked away from the helicopter. A clean up crew was recovering the Dodge so the police could find it later, placed elsewhere.
While they were waiting for a lift back to Bob Hope, Chuck went wandering inside the Air Force base.
"Walker, keep an eye on the moron. Don't want him sucked into an intake. That could ground the aircraft for days" Casey commented, before he found some fellow officers to swap war stories with.
Since Edwards is technically an international airport (and for a glorious moment in history – a space port), there is a passport control, and a departure lounge. Chuck stood at the door to this rather hopefully named 'departure lounge.' This being a government facility, it was ... basic. There were two, two seat couches, clad in orange vinyl. Circa 1985. The TV was about the same age.
Since this was the wee smalls of the morning, he wasn't expecting much when he turned the TV on.
Chuck sat transfixed on the edge of the couch. It was The Thunderbirds... one of the underwater episodes. He heard movement behind him, and glanced over. A young airman had stuck his head in the door, and spotted what was on TV.
"Is that...?" the airman started, his finger pointing to Virgil (suspended on visible wires) 'swimming' mechanically in a Sixties styled, futuristic wetsuit. Chuck nodded.
The airman kept his hand on the door frame, and leant back out and yelled "Thunderbirds! Hey guys! The Thunderbirds are on" before joining Chuck on the couch. About thirty seconds later, some forty seven personnel were crowded into the room that had seating for four, all glued to the TV screen.
It turned out that the group were sharing the flight with Team B. The contingent was on its way to Hawaii for training. Their flight was being diverted to Bob Hope to drop off Chuck and co.
Around the twenty minute mark, the aircraft went to its second boarding call before Sarah stormed into the room, and unplugged the TV from the power. The massed "Awwww..." died a quick death when they saw Sarah's expression. The room emptied in a thunder of boots, and a crush at the door.
"NOT YOU!" kept Chuck pinned to the couch while he last of his erstwhile compatriots glanced backwards, and fled. He looked up at her, and nervously swallowed. His love advanced on him as a Valkyrie seeking bloody revenge... her eyes ablaze, her hair swirling in righteous fury.
She almost made it too. But after three seconds, she flickered a true Sarah smile, before a version of the glare resumed its regular broadcast. "Don't you try those big beautiful sad baby Harp seal eyes on me, mister. Plane!" she pointed "Now!"
After folding her arms at him, she said in a quieter voice "You're lucky you're so damned cute, mister Bartowski... Don't smile! Casey's watching"
He kept his head bowed as Sarah tried her best to break him into a grin "That's right, keep moving mister 'oooh look, some old TV show I've seen twenty times before is on and I must watch it'..."
-o0o-
While on the Hercules, the contingent of airmen kept their distance from Chuck, and the angry blonde. Well, the angry blonde, and by default anyone near her. The guys kept looking at them, wondering what that poor man had done. She was obviously some sort of spook. Maybe he knew the Presidents nuclear codes or something.
Shame, because normally a girl that pretty would rate some appreciation of being under her protection. And that big guy, he seemed to find the whole thing very funny.
-o0o-
"Major Casey. Are you deliberately trying to expose yourself to the civilian population?" the General wanted to know. Everyone ignored Chuck's coughing fit (except for Sarah who kicked Chuck's ankle). "It would seem I almost have all of the senior members of the greater Los Angeles police forces on speed dial."
"General, it would seem that Fulcrum have some of those phone numbers too. The number of police cars chasing us would seem to be excessive, indicating they were tipped off" Casey stood at parade rest, not moving as he addressed the General.
After advising the general, they were preparing to leave. Casey decided to sleep in one of the cells (making sure he had a keycard, just in case Bartowski wanted to be cute). Sarah told Chuck "Come on. You can sleep on my couch. If you come home at half past four in the morning, Ellie will think you've had a fight with me. At least this way you can get one hour of sleep before we have to go to work."
Once they were in her Porsche, he gazed at her and asked "Couch?"
"Oh, shut up" she grinned back at him.
She pulled out of the plaza lot. They both glanced in mild interest at the police cordon and flashing lights around the Large Mart entrance.
As soon as they were in her room, both just fell onto the bed fully clothed, and fell asleep seconds after a quick kiss.
-o0o-
"Charles, you look like crap. Did miss Blondie keep you up all night? Perhapssss you should reconsider..."
"Bartowski! Managers office! Now! You're late Bartowski!" bellowed a voice from the office.
"Sorry, Big Mike"
"...and then, as I'm buying ... um something else..." he flicked his eyes to Lester, but he hadn't noticed "All these Po po just crashed in, and drive straight past me. And I hadn't even done..." Jeff continued in the background.
-o0o-
"…..It's just we never see him anymore" Jeff was complaining "Just spends every night at home..."
"I'm just saying, that if I'd splashed out on a full sized Dalek, I'd want to stay in too. That's a sizable investment. I'd want to get my money's worth" argued Lester
It was only because he'd had one hours sleep, Chuck couldn't help himself "Lester, if I Google 'splashed out on a Dalek,' I really don't want to see any pictures of you. I mean, I really don't…"
"That's a very small niche of the internet" Jeff let them know.
It was Morgan who caused Chuck to weep with laughter when he impersonated a Dalek crying out in its bubbly voice "No Lester, no!"
Chuck had never heard a Dalek sound frightened before. As Chuck doubled over in tears of laughter, he thought this one sounded terrified.
-o0o-
Morgan had surreptitiously brought up the fan fiction site, to browse his alerts. "Aw man! Look at this. She just mentions Kent, and the reviewers go ballistic" Morgan indicated the screen to Chuck.
Chuck peered over his buddy's shoulder at the screen "Well, I guess there's still some issues with Kent. And the whole season three situation. You're right, some strong feelings there. What knockers."
"Vhy shank you, Doktor" came an unexpected female accent from behind them.
Morgan sprayed pseudo grape flavored carbonated beverage across the nerd desk, as Chuck whirled around to find Sarah standing with her chest sticking out a bit more than normal, swaying them (just a little) from side to side. Being Sarah, she had a complex expression. Shy, yet proud. The cheeky grin was all Sarah.
Chuck lean in for the kiss, and stage whispered "That is the last time I show you Young Frankenstein, missy"
Sarah pulled a sad face "Voof" she complained, before joining in with Chuck's grin.
"So, any follow up to last night?" Chuck asked, ignoring Lester's expression.
Sarah took the opportunity to whisper (much closer, and sexier than absolutely needed) into Chuck's ear "We just have to wait for the Fulcrum guys to pop back up" she stood back and checked in a normal voice "OK?"
Chuck did his little 'post Sarah whisper' shiver as his goose-bumps subsided. "Yeah."
A.N. The Dalek scene comes from BBC Radio 4's "The News Quiz." In January, I foolishly made the error of listening to that segment of the podcast on a crowded train. God know what sounds I made, but I was certainly shaking in attempt to not laugh out loud, and there were tears. People moved away from me...
And, I'm not slow. I'm special... I've only just discovered I've been nominated (first round) in seven (seven!) categories of this years 'Awesomes'. Awesome! Looking at the other nominees, I'm impressed. Somehow, I got mixed up with real writers... Shhh – don't tell anyone.
To all who nominated me – a very, very humble thankyou. Please vote for who you think is the best for each category.