MDS/N 1: madamos is another writer from FFN with whom I shared Richard76310's challenge about writing of our favorite spy couple's canoodling and the plights of poor John Casey and General Beckman. I think you'll agree that this is another great addition to the collection of WHTT. It has everything, international intrigue, copious amounts of alcohol, and a report on the activities of our favorite spy couple. I would warn you not to read this at work as your bosses may start asking some pointed questions when you start LOLing to beat the band. You might even ROLF and then they'll really want to know what caused this and you'll have to share the show that this mini-series of scenes is based on to help them 'get it'. On second thought, do read this so that you can spread the love for Chuck to your bosses and co-workers!

MDS/N 2: Have you been reading madamos' wonderful story "Sarah vs Changing Course"? If you haven't, you don't know what you're missing. I mean we have Charah very early into the series. Right after "Vs. The Wookie". The Charah in this story is excellent. Just the right balance between angsty and fluffy. It mostly takes place between the missions of the first and second season. I mean you really need to read this fic. Don't be one of those folks who are too cool for school. You know the ones, they find something a little edgy and great but once it gets big they act like they hate it cuz it gets "too big". Don't do that with this excellent story. I mean it...you keep up with it and you'll be rewarded.

None of us own anything but our own whits and sometimes not even them. Needless to say, we are all borrowing Mr. Fedak's toys and returning them only a little tarnished.

What Happened This Time?

Chapter 14: Big In Japan

Guest Written By:

madamos

AN- MarkeyDeSad asked if I'd contribute to the ongoing Chuck Vs The Drabbles and, before I'd even replied to the message… this popped out. With my sincere apologies for any screwups on Japanese culture or terms (working from Google on the topic) I present to you: Big In Japan

"How…" Commander 'Misaki Sato' started to say, in heavily accented English, then paused and took a long drink from a small ceramic bottle – ignoring the cup on his desk. "How often did you say this happens?"

"Oh, it only hits the level of international incident about once a month. This doesn't sound that bad." Casey said with a malicious grin. This week, its not my problem... The man muttered something in Japanese that Casey couldn't make out. "I'm sorry?"

"It is a difficult topic, despite media to the contrary, much is kept…" Sato paused. "I believe the term is 'behind closed doors' even in certain clubs or groups. Thus to find Bartowski-san's… companion, Walker-san, in a display of nyotaimori was shocking to the Prime Minister's dinner guests." There was another pause. "I believe the intent was to be respectful of the art form, as a certain decorum was observed." His tone was that of someone trying to find something good in a situation.

"Nio-what now?" Casey asked.

A slight flush tinged Sato's face and then he drained the bottle. He then took another from his desk drawer. "It is, ah… a form of… I believe the English term would be 'food play', though it is often not totally sexual when practiced. It involves using…" Sato went on to describe the art form where the female, or male, body is used as a serving platform for sushi. He went to great lengths to explain the use of leaves and chop sticks for sanitary reasons. As well as how the model is to be respectfully ignored. He concluded with, "After the initial shock wore off, I am given to understand that high marks were given for the presentation."

Casey blinked. Then he pulled out a blue labeled bottle and looked at it. Then he put it away and pulled out a red labeled bottle that was noticeably used and poured until the tumbler on his desk was nearly full. He took a long drink, nearly half the glass. Then he set it down and leaned back. The bottle was still open on the desk. "I have a feeling… this is not the reason you called. I'm ready for the worst of it. Should I link in General Beckman?"

"If you think it best Colonel." Sato said with a pained expression that indicated he would rather Casey not. Casey, did not in fact, give a rip what Sato wanted. I'm not taking the blame for what those two did in an allied nation.

Tapping a few keys, there was a rhythmic tone, and then the screen split to show another office with Sato's. The new office looked… disheveled would be the only word. Paperwork looked to be backlogged. Food containers were stacked precariously on a corner of the desk, speaking of recent long hours. The side table which normally held a crystal decanter of high quality alcohol had been replaced by a number of commercial bottles, several of which seemed to be empty. A bleary eyed, and annoyed, looking redheaded General glared at the camera pickup. "Colonel Casey, I just got off the phone with my counterpart on the Japanese side. May I assume this call pertains to the same subject? Dare I ask if it may contain some mitigating factors or explanations?" General Beckman's tone was icy. Then she seemed to notice the split screen. "Ah, you must be 'Commander Sato'. What were my people doing this time?"

Sato again looked embarrassed and stammered slightly. He seemed to be ill-suited to discussion of Team Bartowski's exploits. Casey took pity on him, considering that this part was the least embarrassing he guessed he could break the ice for him.

"Ma'am. Bartowski was using a naked Walker as a sushi platter at the Prime Minister's dinner party." Casey said, bluntly. Then took a long drink. Then he refilled his tumbler. "Apparently that's the good news."

"To be totally transparent, I do not believe Bartowski-san was alone in that use of Walker-san." Satao said, again with a pained expression. This one indicating a man intending to do his duty, even if it killed him.

General Beckman nodded. Then she stood and walked to the side table. She picked up a square bottle, about half full of amber liquid and returned to her desk. She popped the cap off, expertly, with her thumb and took a swig from the bottle. Sato schooled his look of shock and glanced at the side of the screen that held Casey's image. Casey shrugged. "As… interesting as that is, especially given their proclivities, it could not be the only reason I received a call from the head of your intelligence apparatus. Hit me."

Sato looked momentarily confused and then his expression cleared and he nodded. "Of course, General. Apologies, I was unfamiliar with the use of the term 'hit me' except in how it features in the rest of the night's incidents." He stopped at Beckman's raised hand. She drained off a portion of the bottle and then signaled for him to continue. "At what I believe you might call the 'after party', your agents were invited to a private club." He took a drink from his new bottle. "It was not one of the more… accepted establishments, however it generally stays on the inside of the law. Much sake was consumed, by your agents and several of the Prime Minister's cabinet. Walker-san was encouraged to participate in one of the club's activities." Sato mumbled something in Japanese that sounded like waka-saky or something like that to Casey's ears.

Casey sighed and drank. "Sato, just tell me in English. I won't hold their actions against you for explaining."

He nodded his head, gratefully. "The closest term in English, though it does not fully embrace the meaning, is 'body shots'."

Beckman looked at Casey. Her expression may as well have read 'Oh god, Walker naked at a club with high proof alcohol and politicians.'

Casey raised an eyebrow. He was clearly indicating 'And a jealous Intersect 2.0 Bartowski, hammered?'

Beckman winced.

Sato looked at both of them and seemed to understand that some communication had taken place non-verbally.

"Proceed, Commander." Beckman said, finally.

"The club was owned by one of the Yakuza, complicating matters." Sato began delicately. "Thus when Bartowski-san stepped in to stop the growing line of people eager to participate… things began to get out of hand and…" Sato began to relate the tale of the rest of the night. Casey was impressed. Even, or perhaps, because they were hammered – Walker and Bartowski had managed to subdue a club full of Yakuza thugs. And they'd protected the Cabinet members. As the description of the fight, which had spilled out onto a crowded public street in Tokyo, concluded he played a short cell phone video. The video showed Walker, on full display one might say, chasing a man down the sidewalk. With a sword. The neon lights looked quite artistic. The unknown videographer had set the video clip to a portion of the song 'Big In Japan' by Alphaville. Casey had to admit it was appropriate.

"As the liaison for our agencies I had arrived by this time. Walker-san did not, as she threatened, remove the man's genitals. However, I believe this is only because he was hit by a car while fleeing. We have managed to collect all of the known video." Sato took a longer drink. "We did have to clean and sterilize the van used to collect the agents. Apparently Walker-san was… encouraged by Bartowski-san's efforts on her behalf. I have not seen police equipment used so before."

Beckman snorted. "Did they even wait for you to close the van doors?"

Sato shook his head, his expression somewhat shell-shocked. "No." He looked vaguely distressed. "Walker-san did not even care that others were handcuffed to seats in the van. It seemed… it seemed that she took some pride in it. The noise attracted a fair amount of attention before we could get them out of the area."

Casey shrugged. "Sounds like you got off lightly where they're concerned. And its all tied off with a bow now. What's the urgency of the call?"

"I was directed to ask if I could obtain contact information for a couple of reasons. An interested party would like to license Walker-san's likeness for media." Sato looked, if possible even more uncomfortable. "Also… they have been invited to go to a retreat in Kyoto where there will be an exhibition of shib…" Sato began to say.

Casey sat bolt upright, the happy haze of scotch burned from his system in a moment of pure panic. He shouted, "DON'T SAY IT. FIND THEM NOW AND PUT THEM ON A PLANE! I'LL PAY."

MDS/N 3: Please leave a review as I will be sharing them with the Guest Authors. Thank you for your time and attention.