A/N: So, this is AC 1st of all (LB & I decided to alternate in writing the A/Ns). I know it's been more than a month since we last posted a co-op, but I promise there are more coming & this is only the 1st part of this 1, so we'll definitely try to post some more of it soon. It starts at the end of the Chuck season 2 episode Chuck versus the Santa Claus, so some minor spoilers for that. If you haven't read LB's Chuck Versus the Chuckless Summer: Beth or my Chuck Versus the Chuckless Summer: AJ (posted under lifeislikeaboxofbertiebotts), then 1st of all, you should & 2nd of all this won't make any sense. Oh, & Chuck doesn't belong to us. Man, sorry for the long intro, anywho, here's Part 1 of Christmas in Burbank:

"Well, it may not be Paris or Cairo, but Burbank Christmases are certainly are exciting," AJ commented to Beth as they walked out of the Buy More.

Beth nodded. When she'd come into the electronics store to do some last-minute shopping, she certainly hadn't anticipated being held hostage. Or having to go pick up her roommate from the hospital.

"You're still coming to Ellie's Christmas party tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, wouldn't miss it."

"Good." AJ paused, then added, "You should try and convince Casey to come with you, maybe he'd stopped being such a Grinch and embrace a bit of the Christmas spirit."

Beth nodded. "I'll see what I can do. Though I'm not sure how keen he'll be, considering what happened earlier. I don't think he's too happy about losing a toe. I mean, not that he should be. At least it was only a toe. Better than a finger I guess. Can you imagine if John had lost his finger?"

"I doubt either of you could ever recover from the loss," AJ said with a Cheshire grin. Really, Beth made it way too easy to tease her.

"Yeah, he'd be ridiculous to live with—hey!" She halfheartedly flung out a weak punch at AJ. "I've told you, we're not like that. We won't be like that. The only reason I'd suffer is because he'd be worse than a bear, always growling. And he'd probably try to kill Chuck in retribution. And then he'd land himself in the big house."

"Face it, Beth, you're over the moon for Casey. God only knows what you see in him, but whatever rocks your boat." AJ leaned up against her Jeep, grinning. "Anyway, there's a Twilight Zone marathon at the Bartowskis' calling my name, so I'll see you later."

Beth shook her head. "You're living in the twilight zone if you think I'm head over heels for John Casey. Now that would be a Christmas miracle."

She waved to AJ and headed to her own truck, still shaking her head, muttering about foolish Nerd Herders. Duke's engine purred to life and she headed towards the hospital, but stopped by CVS first. Armed with Guns & Ammo, The Daily Shooter, and The Rifleman magazines, plus a bottle of bourbon, she was ready to deal with John.

"No."

"You haven't even heard what I'm going to say!"

"Doesn't matter. Answer's no."

"Ugh!" Beth stared John down, hoping he'd change his mind. She just asked if she could ask him a question. And he said 'no'. Well, she was never one to listen to what others told her. He was going to listen, even if it killed him.
"So, Ellie's having a Christmas party…"

"I'm not going."

Beth huffed, and turned to exit the living room. He was being such a Grinch. She walked into the kitchen, but turned around. No, she wasn't going to let him play his pity party game.

"—Beth I said,"

"Yeah, I heard what you said. And it's a bunch of bull. You, John Casey, are going to stop moping around because you lost a toe, and you're going to show up at the Bartowski Christmas party with me."

He growled in annoyance, but Beth stood her ground. "That doesn't' frighten me, and you know it. Give it up—you're going to the party."

"Going to parties isn't in my list of Christmas traditions."

"That's no problem—new traditions are made all the time. You'll learn to love it."

"And if I say no?"

"I'm not allowing you to." She tossed him one of the magazines she'd bought, and set some desserts next to him. "Now eat these and think about what you're wearing to the party—because I want to see you in something other than black. I've got to call Ellie and tell her to make room for one more."

"I'm not—"

"Yeah, yeah, not going. Give it up—I'm stubborn as a mule—you're not going to win against me. You're going to the Christmas party, and you're going to have a good time. No ifs, ands, or buts. End of story."

He tried to say something else, but Beth brushed him off. Really, it was for his own good. The company would be nice, and plus, it'd stop him from dwelling on his missing ligament. Not to mention, anything John Casey didn't want to go to had to be good in some sense.

"Well, Beth just called. I don't know how she did it, but she's convinced John to come to the party tomorrow," Ellie said as she settled back on the couch.

"That's awesome," Devon said. "The more the merrier!"

"Now if only you could convince Sarah," AJ said the Chuck. Rather than sit in the armchairs, the pair of them were sitting on the floor in front of the couch to make passing the popcorn back and forth easier.

"Oh, I don't know, she made it pretty clear she dislikes the holidays," Chuck said, his eyes fixed on the TV screen. AJ and Ellie both pulled identical frowns.

"Still, she can't spend Christmas by herself," Ellie said. "At least get her to come for dinner!"

Chuck sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

That being settled, AJ casually asked, "Does anybody know if Morgan's bringing Anna?"

"No, didn't you hear? They had a fight; apparently Lester and Anna kissed."

AJ tried not to grin too much. "Oh, that's too bad."

Ellie didn't weigh in. After Thanksgiving, she was honestly a bit relieved that Anna wasn't coming, though common courtesy dictated she shouldn't say that. Instead, she said, "We're going to have a pretty good turnout this year. Let's see, the four of us, Beth and John, Sarah, and Morgan. I'm not forgetting anyone, am I?"

"No, that sounds right. What time do you want me to come over to help with dinner tomorrow?"

"Oh, around two or three should fine. But are you sure you want to help?"

AJ scoffed. "Ellie, please, after all you've done for me, it's the least I can do. Besides, it'll be fun."

"Yes, it will be." Ellie smiled. "Just as long as it's less exciting than today was."

Devon agreed, "That'd be awesome."

Chuck nodded, and the group gradually returned their attention to The Twilight Zone. It was going to be an interesting Christmas.

"John, which take out do you want? We've got Thai, Chinese, and some weird sizzler shrimp thing AJ said was delicious."

He grunted, and Beth sighed. Ever since she'd flat-out told him they were going to Ellie's Christmas party, he'd been growly. Well, he'd been growly before she told him, for that matter. Apparently, Christmas didn't bring out the happiest in all people. Then again, most people didn't have their toes shot off…she bit her lip to keep form smiling. It wasn't that she found losing a toe funny—but out of all people, Beth had figured John would be someone who would lose an arm in battle, or have a heroic gaping scar on his chest from a bomb exploding…not losing a toe because someone didn't know how to handle a gun. Or pretended not to know, in any case.

Moving to the couch, she perched herself on the armrest of John's chair, pretending not to hear his growl of irritation. She tossed a stack of takeout menus in his lap.

"Pick one. You need to eat—hospital food doesn't count. There's also pizza—we could order pizza. Or…maybe…do you even want takeout? I can cook something too—I just thought takeout would be quicker. There's soup. Chicken noodle or tomato or—"

"—I'm not sick, Beth."

She paused. "Well…I didn't say you were."

"Soup?"

"Oh! Soup doesn't just have to be for sick people. It's healthy—gives you lots of vitamins and nutrients, which will help you heal quicker."

He grunted, and she shrugged her shoulders. "That's it. I'm making soup. Or stew, as it were. I think I have a pound of sirloin thawed…I know! I'll make goulash."

John's nose curled at the name, and Beth shook her head. "Yes, I realize it has a bad rep. But it's actually really good. I had it in St. Petersburg with my home-family. If you make it the right way, it's really good. And it's simple to make."

She kept talking as she went in the kitchen to prepare the ingredients, leaving John to wonder if she realized he had no idea what she was saying. He looked around the room, idly passing over the takeout menus. At least it gave him something to look at. He would grab his Glock to clean, but the last time he went to get up, Beth gave him hell. His curiosity piqued when he saw a rumpled piece of loose-leaf sticking out from between the Asian Seven Wonders takeout and Pizza Hut's menu. After glancing to make sure Beth was still busy in the kitchen, he pulled it out.

There was writing on it, but it wasn't Beth's typical light, feminine handwriting. John's scowl got darker as he read the note.

Beth,

I'd hoped to catch you before you left, but Kate told me you had errands to run. Your kindness to my sister is appreciated—there aren't enough sweet people in the world like you. The cookies you made were delicious; all of the kids enjoyed them. Kate told me about your truck trouble—I know you're more than capable of changing a flat, but if the need should ever arise, I'd be more than happy to give you a ride. My number's 513-466-3809. I hope to get to know you more—you make the sun in Burbank shine a bit brighter.

Respectfully ours,

Oliver Reynolds

Oliver Reynolds…John vaguely remembered Beth talking about him a couple times before. The man from her Wednesday coffee runs. He was sure the man was bad news—who knew how close he was trying to get. Beth didn't need to fraternize with civilians; she had a job to do here; people like him would only get in the way. Besides, only nerds like Bartowski or the troll had names like 'Oliver'. Hearing Beth's upbeat humming growing closer, he put the letter back and set the menus to the side. Beth waltzed in, carrying a cup of something that smelled suspiciously like lavender.

"I'm not drinking that fruity stuff."

Beth rolled her eyes, set the drink on the end table, and headed towards the kitchen again. "It's not for you, Mr. Grumpy gills. The tea's mine. You get," She paused for a moment, while she grabbed his drink and brought it back. "This."

He took a long swig of the amber-colored liquid. "Johnny Walker black."

She nodded. "I thought you'd approve."

He grunted in appreciation. Smiling, she settled herself on the edge of the chair again. "You're welcome. The soup will be done in an hour or so—do you need anything? I could grab you a book. Or if you wanted something else to use as your foot rest. How is your foot? The doctor said it would heal alright, but would be a little painful to walk on. Do you need some Tylenol? Or I could get you,"

"—I'm fine Beth."

"But people who are fine don't' say they're fine. Saying fine means you're not fine and you just want the conversation over. Are you sure you're alright?"

"And if I'm not?"

She slid partly off the arm of the chair so that she casually leaned against him and nudged his shoulder. "Then I'd help, silly. It's no fun being hurt."

He rolled his eyes. She really was persistent. "I've been to Afghanistan, Iraq, parts of Saudi Arabia, Iran, Uzbekistan, and Israel. I've been tortured for information, set out to withstand beatings that would have killed a lesser man, and you're worried about me because of an injured toe?"

Beth cocked her head to the side, thinking about it. Well…yeah. She was. "Any injury, no matter how small, is taken seriously, because it's more than no injury at all. And…well…taking care of others is my specialty. Now if you'd just let me take care of everything, you'd relax."

John Casey highly doubted that. In fact, he knew for a fact if Beth took care of everything, his blood pressure would skyrocket, and he'd probably start to get an itchy trigger finger. Man, he was in for a long night.

AJ woke up on the Bartowskis' couch, tucked under a blanket with a pillow under her head. "Wha—?"

"Merry Christmas," Awesome called from the kitchen as AJ sat up. "How'd you sleep?"

"Feliz Natal! And, um, pretty good. How'd I end up on the couch?"

"You dozed off watching TV, and we didn't want to wake you, so we put you on the couch for the night."

"Oh. Well thanks. Mmm, what smells so good?"

"I made waffles."

Licking her lips, AJ jumped up off the sofa, slipped her shoes on, and reached the kitchen table just as Devon set a plate of waffles in front of her. "Awesome, you're too good to me," she said with a grin. "So where are Chuck and Ellie?"

"Still asleep. It's pretty early."

Nodding, AJ tasted her waffles. "Bro, these are delicious. What's in them, blueberries and raspberries?"

"Blackberries too."

"Genius," AJ said. "So tell me, what's Christmas with the Bartowskis like?"

"It's awesome—it's usually just the three of us and the little bearded man, except for two years ago when we went to my parents' house."

Something about the way Awesome said it made AJ want to know more. "And how'd that go?"

"It was alright," he said as he took a seat next to AJ with his own plate of pancakes.

"Alright? For you, that's like saying it was dreadful."

"That's because it was," Ellie said as she walked into the kitchen. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, babe," Devon said, jumping up to give her a good morning kiss and serve her breakfast.

"Joyeux Noël, El. So, why was it so bad? Do you and the future in-laws not get along?"

Ellie shook her head. "It's not that, it's just that Woody and Honey—" She was cut off by AJ choking on her waffles, and hastily passed her the orange juice. "Are you okay?"

After gulping down some juice, AJ said, "Yeah, m'fine." Turning to Awesome, she asked, "Sorry, but your parents' names are Woody and Honey?"

He shrugged. "A bad nickname builds character."

Not sure of how to respond to that, AJ turned back to Ellie instead. "So I'm going to go home after breakfast to shower and change and whatnot; I should be back here around two. Do you need me to bring anything over?"

"No, I think I've got everything. Oh except, do you have any pecans?"

"Um not sure. But if I don't, Beth definitely should, so I'll drop in and ask her for some on my way over."

"Great!"

Love it? Hate it? Let us know what you thought! Please please review, it's chocolate and candy to us. ((LB would just like to say that reviews are more than just chocolate and candy-they are like John Casey...superly Awesome and darn delightful!))