Oh, come on. You didn't think I was going to leave it at that, did you?
What's that you say? I have a nasty habit of ending stories right when they're getting good? Well, I can't argue with that. So, in retribution, I give you Chapter 2. Heed the rating, because this one has language and other naughty stuff.
Chuck vs The Moment
chapter II
Fallout
All hell breaks loose.
The priest asks if anyone objects (and for the record who the hell actually asks that anymore, I was under the impression that it was the goddamned 21st century), and the moron actually stands up to say something I can't quite make out because I'm already thinking about the eight different ways I'm going to kill him, when suddenly I catch movement out of all the corners of both my eyes.
The other groomsmen tense up in a way that tells me they're more than the cousins and buddies Shaw made them out to be. Three guests, one at my ten and two at my one, twist around in their seats a little further than they need to, one arm each going to their backs. And that bridesmaid I was absolutely positive I was going to nail later on reaches into the fabric of the surprisingly tasteful gown Walker picked out for what can only be one reason. And Shaw—
Shaw sighs. Sighs, like this is a minor inconvenience, and turns to his best man, who's waiting for the order.
"Might as well. Try not to hit my folks."
Well, dip me in honey and throw me to the Democrats.
I reach for my own piece and bite back a curse, because speaking of Walker, who picked this one time to insist that no one in the bridal party carry guns?
The mouth-breather behind me gets a nose full of elbow as the other groomsmen draw. Slutty Bridesmaid gets the hint and starts fumbling for her piece, and I take that second to grab the best man's head and knock it into Shaw's. The three bogeys in the back rise up, and Bartowski finally clues in. A second later he starts doing his spastic flashing thing.
Shaw stumbles from the blow, and as I rush past him I see the stunned look on Walker's face. Gonna need to buy her a second to snap out of it. I reach Slutty Bridesmaid and grab up under her dress.
"Relax, doll," I hiss at her as I pull the gun out from under the fabric. "I was gonna be doing that later anyway." I elbow her out of the way, take aim at Shaw, and fire point blank at his chest.
The shot echoes out through the church as Shaw jerks back with the impact, and finally, finally Walker blinks.
And then, like I said before, all hell breaks loose.
Shaw's guys start firing; I make a dive behind the organ and sneak a look at Bartowski, who's throwing something – hymnals? – at the bogeys in the back of the church. We're gonna have to have a little chat later on about separation of church and state, but for now I guess I can let it slide.
I wait out the first round of bullets that slam into the heavy organ, then pop up from cover to squeeze off a few shots. And there's Walker, little miss "I don't want any guns at my wedding" Walker, suddenly with two fists full of throwing knives, taking out one bogey at the back of the church and a couple of Shaw's groomsmen. I'd be ticked off at the double standard if she didn't look so damned good. Bartowski better seal the deal after this, or I might have to take a shot of my own.
Speaking of the geek, for some damn reason he's hightailing it down the aisle, elbowing his way through the panicking crowd, a look on his face that says something's very, very wrong. I see one last groomsman standing, bringing his aim up on Bartowski, and take him out with my last shot before he can level his gun, but Bartowski's still fighting his way through the crowd to the front of the church.
And then, just as he finally makes his way past the retreating masses, I see it. Walker's scanning the crowd for any more of Shaw's people, I'm holding an empty gun, Bartowski's still a few steps away…
And Daniel Shaw is sitting up, taking aim at Walker.
I'm too damn far. Only thing I could do now is throw my empty gun at him, which always reminds me of those old Superman serials where the bullets bounce off of him but he ducks when the gun comes sailing at his head. Regardless, I don't even have time for that. The only thing I can do is yell—
"WALKER!"
She snaps her head around at me, sees where I'm looking, and starts to turn towards Shaw. She doesn't even finish that move in time.
Shaw fires, but Bartowski is already jumping, throwing himself between Walker and the gun, and as the bullet hits him Walker reacts, throwing her last blade, nailing Shaw in the wrist, making him drop the gun. It hits the floor at the same time Bartowski does.
Walker's frozen again, so while Shaw howls out in pain I stride over and stomp on his face. He shakes it off somehow, looks up at me, and the son of a bitch actually smiles through the blood gushing out of his nose. Something shifts and twists in the back of my head. I'm gonna tear this prick limb from limb from limb. I reach down, grab his collar, and pound him in the nose again, putting him out. I pull my fist back to keep the good times rolling when I hear Walker behind me.
"Casey."
She's down on her knees, cradling Bartowski's head in her lap. Her hands are shaking, moving around the kid's body, trying to figure out where the bullet hit him. She touches a spot just above his waist and jerks a blood-covered hand back. I drop Shaw and pull my phone out to call for a medic as Walker cradles Bartowski's face, pleading for him to wake up, to stay with her.
"Ambulance is a couple minutes out. They'll get here in time."
She nods vacantly, keeps calling for the kid to wake up. Suddenly, his eyes snap open, and glare at, of all things, me.
"Thought you shot him."
Little prick. Suddenly Walker's laughing, pressing her lips to his forehead. He's still glaring at me.
"I did. He's wearing a vest."
"Who the hell wears a bulletproof vest to a wedding?"
"I'm wearing a bulletproof vest."
"Asked and answered," the little prick says, and drops his head back into Walker's lap. Yeah, he'd better milk this while he can.
I search Shaw and find a Ring phone. Probably one of these on all of his guys. "How did you know Shaw was Ring?"
The blood runs out of Walker's face as she turns to look at the phone in my hand. Bartowski blinks a couple times.
"Um… I didn't."
"Then why did you—" He looks up at Walker, and I finally get it. "So, did it hurt?"
"Getting shot? Yes, Casey. It hurts quite a bit."
"Not getting shot, moron. Finally growing a pair. Must have been painful this late in life." Sirens are blaring outside the church, so I head towards the doors. I can feel the kid glaring at me as I walk away, and I'm glad he can't see the smile on my face. Probably a little more proud than I'd rather admit.
XXX
The paramedics get Bartowski stable and in the ambulance, and Walker's standing by the doors in her bloodstained wedding dress. Probably for the best, it's not the one I would have picked out anyway. She sees me and heads over.
"I'm going to ride to the hospital with Chuck."
"That'll be an interesting sight," I say, nodding at the ruined dress.
She looks down and shrugs. "Red's more my color anyway."
I laugh at that, a good hearty one. I haven't had many of those in my life, and certainly not lately. Walker seems to appreciate it. "You're okay here?" she asks.
"Cleanup crew is en route, and when they're finished I'll debrief Beckman. Go look after the kid."
She touches my shoulder, starts to say something, then thankfully turns to walk away. I'm thinking I've dodged the lady feelings when she stops and turns back. "Casey?"
"Yeah?" I ask, wincing.
"I know this is premature. Chuck's got to recover, and then he and I have a lot we need to talk about. But when that's all behind us, I'm going to ask you a favor."
Still wincing. "What's that?"
"I'm going to need you to turn off the surveillance for a while."
That one throws me. "Why?"
"Because no two people in history have screwed like I'm gonna screw that guy in the ambulance."
She doesn't wait for a reply, just gathers up the skirt of her dress and marches towards the doors. And a few seconds later, when the shock wears off, I laugh again.
"Way to go, kid."
So, there you go. Ultra-happy ending. I know, it was ridiculous, but it was a hell of a lot of fun to write. Also, the previous chapter was uncharacteristically depressing, even with the ambiguously hopeful ending. So, in exchange for sticking with me, your reward is guns and knives and Casey being awesome. It's the anti-Chapter 1.
Speaking of Chapter 1, thanks to everyone who reviewed. You're my favorite kind of favorite people.
-Nick
