A/N: Frea O'Scanlin recently gave me a writing prompt which included the Adorable Psycho and a certain mode of transportation. This is what I came up with. Happy birthday, Frea!
(Thanks to AgentInWaiting for the quick and always terrific beta work and to Wepdiggy for creating this wonderfully twisted character.)
Insert disclaimer here.
The Adorable Psycho On The Clock
Newly married Chuck Bartowski sat in the back of the limo next to his beautiful bride, Sarah, both still resplendent in their bridal wear. They stared down at the piece of paper Harley Winterbottom/Alexei Volkoff had left for them under their seats in the rented limousine.
"What?" Sarah breathed, her eyes wide with shock.
Chuck's brows shot up. "Oh boy!" Scanning the document, he asked, "Sarah, do you know what this means?"
Sarah snatched the paper from Chuck's hands and threw it on the floorboard. "I don't give a rat's tiny behind what it means, Chuck," she growled. "All I know is that we've been married for..." she grabbed his wrist and shoved up the cuff of his shirt to expose his watch. Glaring at it, she continued, "three hours and thirty-one minutes and you have not performed your 'husbandly duties' yet. I want you to perform your 'husbandly duties' now, Chuck."
"Here? Now?" He was completely flummoxed. "But Hartley and Vivian just gave us hundreds of millions of dollars."
Sarah leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her. "Yeah, well, it's the least that brunette skank, Vivian, could do after she tried to kill me!" Sarah replied, raising her voice at the end. Grumbling under her breath, she said, "It's a good thing they went off the grid because I'm gonna gut her like a trout if I ever see her again. If they hadn't run off, she'd be sushi by now."
"Do they use trout in sushi?"
She shot him a glare. "Off the subject, Chuck. It's been two more minutes and you still haven't fulfilled your 'marital duties.' Besides, it's been days since you've plowed me, Chuck," she whined. "Apparently, you refused to 'do anything' when I was in my coma."
His head jerked. "Okay, number one, Sarah, ew! I would never do that."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't expect the same restraint from me if the situation was reversed, Chuck."
He blanched. "You would do that if I…" he trailed off. "You know? Never mind." He shuddered and pressed on. "Number two, I went all over the world trying to get the antidote to save you."
Her demeanor softened slightly when she thought of that. She gave him a sweet kiss.
Relaxing a little, he continued, "I even flew to Russia to meet with Vivian."
Sarah's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You met with that woman alone, Chuck?"
"What? No! Her henchmen where there! And… and she pulled a gun on me."
"So? I've pulled a gun on you, too, Chuck," she said in a way that made him nervous. "Did you sleep with her, Chuck? You're fiancée is in a coma and you're sleeping with that murderous brunette skank?" she accused him, her voice rising once more.
"Of course not!" he shouted, his face looking wounded. "How could you ever think I could do such a thing?" he pouted. "You know I love only you."
Somewhat placated, she grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch again. "Five more minutes have passed, Chuck. And still no 'marital union.' It's been three hours and thirty-six minutes, Chuck. I want 'union.'"
"I know, sweetie. We couldn't do anything during the reception," he reminded her.
"Reception!" she snorted. "If it wasn't for all those people watching," she lowered her voice and grumbled, "stupid witness law," her voice raised again, "and the fact that we were in a church, I would have tackled you to the floor and rocked your world right there on the spot when you talked about our kids being like little superheroes with capes and stuff." A predatory look crossed her face. "You really know what to say to get my motor running, Chuck," she groaned, now practically lying on top of him.
"You want our first time as husband and wife to be in the back of a limo?" he mumbled.
"I don't care if it's on a Schwinn bike with a banana seat and high handlebars." She leaned into him and gave him a searing kiss.
The kiss started to change his mind. "Well, we did do it in that Hummer on the 405 that one time," he murmured into her hair.
"And in the Lotus and Casey's Crown Vic..." she added, attacking his neck.
"Sarah!" he hissed. "We said we would never talk about that!" He lifted his head and looked around as if Casey was right there. "What if Casey finds out?"
"He'll get over it," she assured him as her hands worked at slipping off his tie. It didn't come loose like she'd hoped, adding to her frustration. "What is wrong with this thing, Chuck?"
He reached up to help undo the tie. She pulled up the ruffled skirt of her wedding dress and reached down to grab one of the throwing knives strapped to her leg.
"You were armed during our wedding, Sarah?" he asked incredulously. "And what are you going to do with that knife?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm armed. Relax, I'm just going to slice the tie off."
Having a surgically sharp knife right next to his jugular didn't appeal to him, so he gave the tie a mighty yank and pulled it off before she could move the knife to his throat.
Now that the tie issue was resolved, she slipped the knife back into its holster.
His brow furrowed. "Wait a minute! How come I didn't notice the knives when I took off your garter at the reception?"
A wicked smile erupted when she answered, "You didn't go high enough, Chuck."
He made an unintelligible gurgling noise.
"Are you ready to go higher, Chuck?"
Wordlessly, he pulled her into a blistering kiss. He started to slowly move his hand up her leg and she responded with a loud and happy moan.
He had just flipped them so that he was now on top of her when the phone behind them rang.
"Don't answer it!" she warned him with a glare. "It's been three hours and forty-five minutes, Chuck, and no 'consummation of our marriage'."
"What if it's important, Sarah?"
"What's more important than us consummating our marriage?" she growled.
He reached up and grabbed the phone. "What!" he nearly shouted. He listened for a moment and then said, "Okay, Morgan. Thanks."
He put the phone back and dropped his forehead onto her chest. "We're almost to the airport. We'll be there in a couple of minutes."
"Well then, you'll just have to hurry up," she advised him as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard while at the same time she worked at taking off his suit jacket.
He shucked it off and returned her kiss with equal passion. Suddenly, the limo bounced and weaved out of control.
"Oh, Chuck!" she cried, thrilled by the sensation. "You stud muffin, you!"
The limo bounced crazily once more and then skidded to a stop, throwing them both off the seat and onto the floor board with Sarah landing hard on top of him.
"I'm gonna kill Morgan," she said in a deadly voice, snaking a hand toward her knives.
"You know what? Me, too," he grumped. With Sarah still on top of him he bellowed, "Morgan! What the hell!"
The barrier lowered and Morgan turned around to talk to his passengers. Not seeing them on the seat, he said, "Hey! Where are you guys?"
Growls were heard from the floor board below and Sarah reluctantly climbed off of Chuck and sat back on the seat. Seconds later, Chuck returned to his seat as well. "Morgan, why have we stopped?" he asked, clearly as irritated as Sarah was.
Morgan looked like he wished the original limo driver was sitting in his place. "Um, there was a pretty major earthquake just now. That's why the limo was weaving and bouncing."
Sarah's eyes narrowed to slits. "So it was a little earthquake! So what? Get us to the airport so we can fly to Maui. Chuck promised me all the sex on the beach I wanted. I need to get to the beach, Morgan," she said, her unspoken threat clearly implied.
"Um, Sarah, you know 'Sex on the Beach' is the name of a cocktail, right?" Chuck asked cautiously. "I was just..."
She shot him a withering stare. "We're having sex on the beach, Chuck. Don't care if there's alcohol involved or not."
At this point, Morgan had sweat pouring from his temples and forehead. He looked like he had just gone fifteen rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson. "I'm sorry, guys," he started, "but it was a pretty big quake. The roads are buckled and we can't move. None of the cars around us can." He gulped and said with great trepidation, "We're stuck."
Chuck paled and glanced over at Sarah, her face a mask. "How far away are we from the airport?" she asked, her mind clearly whirling with ideas.
"We're on Century Boulevard, so really close," he answered meekly, hoping he gave her an answer she would be happy with.
She grabbed Chuck's wrist and looked at his watch again. "Closing in on four hours, Chuck, and still no 'connubial relations.'"
"Well, we could just stay in LA," he ventured meekly. "There's lots of beaches that we could…'become one flesh' on."
"Tropical beach, Chuck," she answered, opening the door to the limo and climbing out onto the street to survey the damage wrought by the earthquake. All along Century Boulevard, vehicles were stopped in unusual positions. Dust rose in plumes where a brick building lay in rubbled ruins. The limo was only slightly off its normal position on the road only because of its sheer size.
Hands on hips, Sarah looked up and down the boulevard. Her hair was coming out of the upswept 'do she wore for the wedding and wisps were caught and swirled in the breeze. "Get out of the limo, Chuck. We're walking the rest of the way."
He jumped out of the back of the limo and stood next to her, glancing around. "You're right, Sarah. We're not that far. Let me get the bags and let's go."
"Leave the bags," she ordered. "They'll just slow us down."
He looked at her incredulously. "Sarah, you're still in your wedding dress."
"You don't like my dress, Chuck?"
"No," he said quickly. "Nononononono! I love it. It's just that if we don't take the bags, you'll still be wearing it when we land in Hawaii. I'm not sure it will be…comfortable for you."
"I love this dress," she advised him grabbing the top of the strapless bodice and giving it a good hard yank. "But you're right." She turned to Morgan and said, "Morgan, get the bags and let's go." With that, she marched off toward the airport.
Morgan looked to Chuck for guidance. Chuck's face said it all. Without a word, Morgan pushed the button on the key fob popping the lid of the trunk open. He grabbed Sarah's bags and hauled them out. Chuck took his bag out and started off, trotting to catch up with his wife.
They were quite a trio, striding purposefully down Century Boulevard, up and over the buckles in the sidewalk and around the piles of debris and broken glass making their way toward the airport: Sarah, with her hair now free of its confines blowing in the breeze and the skirt of her wedding dress billowing behind her, Chuck, in suit pants and white dress shirt with no tie pulling his suitcase behind him and Morgan, still wearing his limo driver suit and hat, pulling Sarah's two bags behind him. It would be fair to say that all eyes were on them as they passed the cars still sitting askew in the middle of the road.
They walked for about fifteen minutes and then came to the terminal where they were to catch their flight. The three of them approached the check-in counter, kicking aside the papers, tags, ceiling panels and other rubble that had fallen to the floor during the earthquake. Sarah's nostrils flared like an angry bull's who was about to charge when she saw the brunette behind the counter give them the once over. Skank's eyes stayed on Chuck a little too long.
Chuck, seeing his new bride stiffen, placed a hand on her back and whispered in her ear, "Sarah, my love, please leave her alone."
She turned and glared at him. "Chuck, she was staring at you. No skank stares at my husband," she growled. "Besides, with me being stuck in the hospital in a coma last week, I'm way below my limit."
Trying to distract her he whispered, "You leave her alone, and I'll…" he put his lips next to her ear and whispered, gesticulating wildly as he described his plans for her.
Her scowl softened as he whispered, regaling her with very specific details of what was in store for her if she left this brunette woman alone. Her face began to glow with anticipation and a huge smile broke out. "You naughty boy," she whispered approvingly when he finished his discourse. Grabbing his face in her hands, she gave him a passionate kiss and said, "Deal. I'll let this one go."
He heaved a sigh of relief and kissed her back. Unfortunately, that seemed to get her even more riled up and ready for action. "How long has it been now, Chuck, and still no 'cleaving?'" she moaned.
Glancing at his watch, he replied, "Four hours and twenty-five minutes."
With the images Chuck had just put in her head, she was really starting to lose it. She slapped their tickets and driver's licenses on the desk and growled at the brunette ticket counter woman, "My husband and I are going on our honeymoon. We'd like to check in please."
The woman behind the desk snorted and said sarcastically, "Really? I would have never guessed."
Sarah's eyes flashed and her hands started to lift the skirt to get a knife.
Chuck stepped forward and whispered in her ear again. He nipped her earlobe, causing her to shiver. Her hand pulled away from the knife and started toward Chuck instead. He intercepted her hand just as it was heading for dangerous territory and held it in both of his own.
To the woman behind the counter, Chuck said, "If you could just check us in, please."
The brunette looked at him and winked. "Sorry, handsome, but because of the earthquake the airport is closed until all the runways can be inspected for damage." She smiled when she saw Sarah's face twist in anger. "Come back later."
Behind them, Morgan released a groan of utter despair. Chuck gulped and nervous perspiration erupted on his brow. "Come on, Sarah. Let's find a place to sit down and wait."
They found some seats not too far away from the counter and sat down. Sarah's eyes never left the brunette skank who had called her husband "handsome." Yes, he was handsome. Devastatingly so. But no brunette skank was going to flirt with her man and get away with it. I'll just make sure Chuck doesn't know so he can do those naughty things to me. She would wait for as long as it took. Happily, she didn't have to wait too long as she watched as the woman head for the ladies room.
She gave Chuck a quick kiss on the cheek and said, "Chuck, honey, I'm going to go to the ladies room and freshen up. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Okay, sweetie," he answered absently as he was in the middle of texting Casey: "Red Alert! The Tasmanian Devil has been poked with a stick and is whirling. Brunette Bugs Bunny doesn't stand a chance. Airport is closed. Pineapple!"
It was only a minute when Casey texted back, "Will hitch a ride with military chopper assessing damage. Be there in 30."
"Hurry," was Chuck's texted reply.
Sarah exited the ladies room still wiping her hands on the paper towel. Her hair was still windblown and she ran a hand over it to smooth the wild wisps. She was a picture of calm as she strode over to Chuck. Glancing over her shoulder to see an older grey haired woman enter the ladies room, she said, "Let's move to another seating area. I don't like it here."
Chuck and Morgan nodded, gathered up their things and were just leaving the area when the woman ran out of the ladies room screaming for the police.
Sarah kept her eyes judiciously in front of her as they walked away. Morgan looked silently at Chuck who simply shrugged and shook his head. "Don't look back," Chuck advised him quietly. Morgan swallowed nervously and nodded.
They walked for a couple of minutes when Sarah suddenly stopped and stared out one of the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over one of the runways. Her blue eyes gleamed, a plan forming in her mind for how she and her beloved Chuck to get to Hawaii despite the airport being closed.
Chuck followed her eyes and choked when his eyes fell on the airplane she was looking at. It was parked in the middle of a runway, off by itself. "No, Sarah. We can't. It will cause a national security incident and we'll all end up in prison. No!" he hissed.
She sighed and rolled her eyes, moving her lips to his ear and quoting back to him what he had whispered into her ear earlier. His resolve quickly faded and said sheepishly, "Lay on, Macduff."
She grinned and quirked an eyebrow at him. They went toward one of the security doors and looked down at the electronic lock. Sarah glanced around. Security was busy dealing with the aftermath of the earthquake, so no one paid any attention to them, despite the fact that Sarah was still in her wedding dress. She reached a hand down into the front of her dress and pulled out a lanyard with a several card keys attached to it. "Don't ask," she warned them in a low tone.
Swiping one of the cards in front of the reader caused the lock to click and she twisted the handle and opened the door. The three of them quickly descended the metal exterior stairs and strode across the tarmac toward the plane. Morgan stopped dead in his tracks when he realized where they were going. "No way, guys. No way."
Chuck, understanding Morgan's reticence to go any further, went over to Morgan and said, "I'm gonna miss you, buddy. Stay safe, okay?" He leaned over and gave Morgan a bear hug. The little man buried his face into Chuck's shoulder and started mumbling about "hetero life partners" and "epic bromances". Finally, the two parted.
Sarah's blood boiled. She always thought the deep-seated brunette obsession of Chuck's came from his time with Jill. Now she understood that it came from Morgan.
"Morgan, let me give you a hug good-bye," she said, pulling him close. Chuck smiled as he watched his new wife and oldest friend embrace.
Into his ear, Sarah whispered, "When Chuck and I get back from our honeymoon, you will be blond, beard and all. Understand?"
He didn't understand, but knew not to ask any questions. He nodded vigorously, then turned, ran up the stairs and back into the terminal, leaving Sarah's bags behind.
"Wuss," she grumbled, grabbing the handle of one of her bags and rolling it toward the airplane. Chuck pulled her other bag behind him. His stomach clenched when he looked up at the huge plane they approached. It was a 747 with light blue along the bottom of the fuselage and a darker blue strip that started above the cockpit and then down the length of the plane. On the white part of the airplane above the windows in huge lettering were the words "United States of America." They were heading for Air Force One.
"Apparently, the President's in town," she said as they approached the two Secret Service agents standing stoically at the bottom of the rolling stairs that led up to the door of the plane. Well, as stoically as they could be with a blonde woman wearing a wedding dress coming straight at them. She stopped, pulled up her skirt once again, whipped out a pistol from the holster strapped to her thigh and fired at the two agents before they had time to react. Both crumpled into heaps on the tarmac.
"Sarah! You just shot two federal agents! That is so not cool!"
She shot him a sour look. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Chuck. I just tranq'ed them." She brightened and kissed him on the cheek and said, "I'm trying to reform for you, sweetie!" Her mood swung wildly again, her face grimacing as she asked loudly as they climbed the stairs, "How long has it been now and still no 'uniting in the bonds of holy matrimony,' Chuck?"
He stopped his climb up the stairs behind his wife and took a quick glance at his watch. He replied up to her, "Five hours and three minutes, my love!" he called back.
They had almost reached the top of the stairs when a helicopter landed not too far from the plane. Casey jumped out of the chopper, still wearing his tuxedo from their wedding and stalked toward them. "You cannot go on Air Force One, morons!" he bellowed at them.
"Just watch us, Casey!" Sarah yelled back. "The President's not using it right now and I know they have more than one of these things! They won't even miss it!" She scowled and shouted, "And it's been five hours and six minutes without Chuck and me 'sharing our nuptial bed.' That's gonna change soon, Casey. I want sex on the beach."
Casey groaned. "You do know that's a drink, right!" he shouted up at her.
"Don't mess with me, Casey. I'm in no mood!" she spat. "Get your butt moving and haul it up here," she ordered him.
Talking in a low voice so that he could only be heard by Chuck above him as he climbed the stairs, Casey said, "Maybe we can grab the gun and tranq her and get her off this plane before we all get arrested."
Chuck shook his head nervously. "No. I can't do that," he replied. "I'd like to keep all of my external appendages, thank you very much!"
Sarah, having already entered the plane, dropped her bag and went through the aisles tranquing everyone on board. She pumped two darts into each brunette skank just to be extra careful. The only good brunette was a dead brunette, but like she told her new husband, she was trying to reform. Besides, all these brunette skanks would put her way over the limit and she wasn't sure Chuck would give her a waiver, even for their honeymoon.
"Chuck, Casey, haul these people to the back of the plane and shoot them out the baggage conveyer belt and onto the tarmac," she ordered as she headed for the cockpit.
They looked at each other and shrugged. "At least they're not dead," Casey grumbled.
"Yeah and on the bright side, we're about to steal Air Force One," Chuck said, swaying a little at the words.
"Holy crap, Bartowski," Casey whispered loudly as he took an unconscious body, whom he believed to be the President's chief of staff, by the ankles and pulled him toward the back of the plane, "what are we gonna do?"
"My suggestion is we take the plane and fly to Hawaii."
"The minute this thing leaves the ground, they're gonna scramble jets!" Casey hissed.
Chuck glanced over his shoulder and said, "I know, but they won't shoot it down as long as nothing crazy happens." He looked at Casey's dubious face after he realized what he said. "Okay, nothing overtly dangerous."
"So we'll have an escort all the way to Hawaii," Casey stated.
"Too much gabbing back there, boys! This isn't a hen party!" Sarah shouted from the cockpit. She was currently ensconced in the pilot's seat, wedding dress hiked up around her waist so she would be able to work the controls more easily. She put the headset on and listened to the chatter. It was all about the earthquake and trying to get the runways open. Ground control had mentioned that one had already been inspected and was found undamaged, so that one had become designated as the emergency runway. Well, I haven't 'known Chuck in the Biblical sense' since he became my husband over five hours ago and if that's not an emergency, then I don't know what is!
She fired up the engines and jumped out of the seat to see if all the extraneous passengers had been offloaded by Chuck and Casey. The last unconscious body, who looked a little like one of those network anchorman dweebs, was just falling off the conveyer belt onto the top of the pile of bodies at the end of it.
"Okay, Sarah, everyone is now off the plane. It's just the three of us," Chuck said meekly.
Casey stared at her. "You're nuts, Walker…Bartowski," he corrected himself when she reached for her knives. "I'm outta here. I'm not ending up in jail with you." Turning, he headed for the door.
He heard a quiet "swoosh" and felt a faint rush of air as a knife flew past his ear and embedded itself into the wall just in front of him with a "thoink".
"You're not going anywhere, Casey," she said, her voice like death. "I need you to help fly the plane."
"You do it, Wa-, Sarah," he retorted.
She stared him down. "You and I have a rider to my agreement. There's a pretty little brunette who gets to stay alive and live in Chuck's world as long as her daddy helps me out from time-to-time."
Casey snarled, "You promised to leave Alex alone."
"You live up to your end of the agreement and I'll live up to mine. Or else…" she threatened him.
"Fine. But what do you want me for?"
"I need you on the flightdeck."
"And why is that?" he asked warily.
"Because, Casey, it's been," she stopped and snapped her fingers repeatedly at Chuck who immediately looked at his watch and supplied, "five hours and thirty-six minutes," she blew him a kiss, "since we got married and still no 'consummation of our nuptials.' That's gonna change on this plane. The President's got a bed back there and that's going to be our 'marriage bed.'"
Chuck paled and grabbed onto a wall to steady himself. "Sarah, we…we can't do that."
"The President is totally okay with it, Chuck," she answered with conviction.
"How…how do you know that?"
She pointed to a sign attached to one of the interior walls of the cabin. "The sign says it right there in big red letters, 'YES WE CAN!'"
Chuck choked. "Sarah, my love, I don't think that's what he meant."
"I don't care what you think it means, husband. We are going to have 'conjugal relations' right now. I'm not waiting another friggin' minute!" she growled as she grabbed him by the shirt and smashed her lips to his. Then she took him by the hand and dragged him toward the bedroom. "I don't care about earthquakes or brunette skanks or Air Force One. We are going to 'become one flesh' right here, right now!" She threw Chuck on the bed, and just as the door slammed behind them, launched herself at Chuck spread eagle.
Casey stalked to the cockpit, sat down in the seat, put the headset on and turned up the volume up to eleven, drowning out any and all potential sounds. "I wonder what federal prison is like," he mumbled to himself.