A/N: My apologies for the long time since posting. Another story has been taking most of my attention. But, finally there is a new chapter for Story Night. Is mostly to introduce the last of the characters before things get started. Will try and have the next one up sooner. The other story is almost done so that should help. In addition to the occasional Star Warsy lines, there is a Battletech reference and 'Of Mice and Men' may be an influence. Or Bugs Bunny. You can decide. Still don't own Chuck.

Chuck and Sarah Bartowski vs. Story Night

Chapter 3

November 18, 2021

"Dad! Mom needs help! She was showing off in class again and hurt her leg!" Yelled Linda as she hurried into the house. Still in her gi, she was eager to head to the family room and practice everything they'd learned today.

"Linda Bartowski, I was not showing off!" Sarah enters, sounding miffed at the accusation. "Sensei asked for a volunteer. I've done that kick a thousand times." Wincing as she leans against the island in her kitchen. "I wasn't loosened up enough yet."

Standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, Chuck conveys a solemn expression. "Showing off in class again? What am I going to do with you, Sarah?" His lips twisting into a smirk.

Giving him one of her best scowls as she favors her leg, "I can tell you something you won't be doing with Sarah if you don't wipe that smile off your face. It's just a muscle pull. I'll be fine in no time."

He crosses the kitchen to kneel by his wife. Gently probing up from her knee, his fingers brush a tender spot. He looks up at the hitch in her breath. "Just a pulled muscle?" His eyes full of concern.

"Yes honey, really. I've had enough of them in my life to know what it feels like. I'll be fine in a day or two, promise." She reaches down and playfully tousles his curls before extending further to grab his collar and pull. "I can't believe I've been home for over five minutes and you're still holding out on a kiss for your darling wife."

"Five whole minutes? I'd better do something quickly before you call the cops on me, and, I'm charged with neglect." Straightening at her insistent tug, he tilts in close to give her a proper welcome. After, he offers his arm. "Come on, sweetie. I think you could use a nice, hot bath. The heat will do your muscles good. Don't you worry, I'll take care of dinner tonight."

"You're taking care of dinner?", looking at him skeptically. "Just remember, no olives."

Completely shocked, Chuck says, "Is that what you think of my burgeoning culinary skills? I offer to handle dinner, and you instantly assume it means ordering pizza." Walking with his wife to the bedroom, "I'll have you know, the plan was to order chinese. So there."

Laughing, Sarah kisses his cheek. "How could I have ever doubted you Mr. Bartowski?"

Later that evening, the family Bartowski is seated around the dinner table. Chuck looks over the assortment of takeout containers until spying his objective. Seconds before he can lift out the last of the dumplings, a pair of chopsticks dive in and expertly abscond with the morsel. He pretend glares across the table to see his wife with a smug look and puffed out cheeks. "Really, Sarah? The last one? Not even wanting to share after all the work I did to create this wonderful meal?"

Lauren pipes up, "Yeah Mom, what about sharing? Aren't you supposed to set a good example?"

"I'm wounded, that means I can call dibs on whatever I want. You two can share anything else on the table." Speaking around the last of the dumpling.

Chuck glances at Linda and Lauren, mischief on his face. "You heard her girls. Mom is wounded. I think that means she'll have to get all comfortable in her bed during story night. It wouldn't be right to keep her up while we have fun."

At the mention of story night, Lauren and Linda's eyes light up. They've been waiting, not very patiently, all week to find out what happened to John and Charlie in the airplane. Linda chimes in, "Don't worry mommy, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

Lauren adds, "I'll help. It's too bad you won't be able to hear daddy tell it. He does such a good job."

All three turn innocent faces to Sarah. She adopts a hurt expression. "Chuck, I can't believe you would turn my girls against me. Not only am I injured, but, now I'm being banned from story night. What did I do to deserve such treatment?"

Chuck motions to the girls and they lean in close. The three begin to make exaggerated whispering noises and look over at Sarah every now and then. A minute later, they nod in agreement, and, Chuck clears his throat as the girls stifle giggles. "After careful deliberation, it has been decided that you may attend story night. But, there is still a punishment pending for stealing the last dumpling."

Meeting the eyes of her children, Sarah nods, "I can accept those terms. As long as I'm allowed to tuck you two in and get some good night kisses."

Linda shares a quick look with Lauren before answering her mother. "Well bargained..."

".....and done." Lauren finishes. Both grinning like cheshire cats.

"They make me so proud." Chuck says, pretending to wipe away a tear.

Sarah rolls her eyes, "Our girls are going to grow up much too well versed in nerd speak for my tastes. Maybe I can get their Uncle Casey to teach them camping and hunting."

Wiggling his eyebrows at Sarah from across the table. "And yet you know where that saying comes from just as well as I do. Who's to say where they're getting it from?"

"Fine, I've been contaminated too. Know what, I think I'll go along with Casey and the girls on the camping and hunting trip. Do ya think you could live without us for a few days?" Sarah smiles innocently at him.

"Hmm, a weekend of pizza and video games. Puh...puh...puh....puhleeeze don't throw me in that there brier patch." Chuck says with an exaggerated southern accent and puppy dog eyes. Immediately, the girls explode into giggles at their dad's crazy antics. Sarah looks on unimpressed, except for a lone twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Making a big show of looking around their clean and orderly house, Sarah shifts her attention back to Chuck. "On second thought, getting out of town might do us ALL some good. Ellie can check in on Mr. Buttons and bring in the mail for us. What do you say husband of mine? A couple of days in the great outdoors, fresh air, lots of stars at night, your three favorite ladies to keep you company? You and Casey bonding over firearms?" Grinning at the image that conjures up.

Linda perks up and chirps excitedly, "Ooh, Uncle Casey promised to teach me how to shoot and said, one day he would get me my very own gun..." Her volume and excitement dropping quickly with Sarah's gaze directed at her. "....but only when I'm much older and more responsible." Lauren snickers, then quickly shuts up as 'the look' is turned her way as well.

Jumping into the sudden conversation vacuum, Chuck speaks up. "That's a great idea Sarah. Except for that whole bonding with guns part. We haven't really broken in the new tent that you made me....erm....I mean we both thought would be a wonderful purchase for the family. I'll give Casey a call tomorrow and see how his schedule looks."

Dinner finished, Chuck and the girls hop up to clear the table. They usher Sarah from the room, telling her to get comfy on the sofa. In deference to her injured status, she is allowed to pick the movie and her choice of snack for the evening. Everything in order, the Bartowski family enjoys a quiet movie night. Curled up in Chuck's arms, Sarah informs the girls it's time to get ready for bed as the ending credits roll. Knowing what comes next, Lauren and Linda are off like a shot to get their teeth brushed and pajamas on.

Sarah pulls Chuck down for a kiss. "Thank you for tonight, baby. I promise the camping trip will be a good time." A sly smile curves her lips. "Maybe Casey can take the girls on a long, long hike so we can properly break in the new tent."

"I was already sold on the idea, but, now I can't wait to meet mother nature. Uh, there won't be too many bugs though? Right?" Chuck asks nervously. "I mean the six and eight legged kind. Then again, with Casey, we might want to look for the other kind of bugs as well. Especially before we do any breaking in of the tent."

Swatting Chuck on the arm, Sarah chuckles. "John wouldn't do that." Suddenly remembering the aftermath of a certain mission involving a Santa Monica hotel room and an audio tape. "Got it, we check for bugs." As she swings her legs off the couch to stand, Sarah winces at the pain. "Help me up, sweetie? My leg tightened up from all the laying around." She holds out her hand.

"But of course, milady. If you play your cards right, there could be some Bartowski magic fingers in your future." Chuck whispers into her ear.

Sarah shivers, "Oh my, I'm feeling better already. Sadly, duty calls and I can hear the girls are getting restless for their story. Just keep those fingers warmed up, my leg will most certainly be bothering me later."

Chuck and Sarah join their daughters, getting them settled in bed. Sarah sets a chair between the twin beds and stretches out her leg as Chuck paces in thought. An expectant hush fills the room as all eyes are turned on him. He stops his pacing and with a grand flourish. "Morgan was jolted awake by a number of pains throughout his body. His sluggish brain reminded him of the leap...or push as it were...from the speeding train."

The girls erupt in a chorus of boo's, what about the airplane daddy, charlie and johnny are in danger. To which, Chuck gets a great big smile. "Oh, you want to hear about that first? I suppose." Looking all put out by the request. "Okay, Johnny had the plane taxiing down the runway, bombs falling all around them. He had just lifted off, but they were not gaining altitude fast enough."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Screwing his eyes shut, Agent Carmichael moans, "I hate flying."

"Dang it, we've got one on our tail. This could get interesting." Juking the plane side to side, they can hear the whiz of bullets passing close by. Major Carson scans the rapidly nearing barrier of trees. With only seconds to decide, he knows he gets one chance at this. Feathering the rudder, John sideslips deftly to place the biggest gap directly in front of the nose. With a quick thrust of the stick, he stands the airplane on it's left wing. Both of them flinch at the scrape of branches on canopy and belly, mercifully, that only lasts a few seconds. They explode through and John instantly rights the plane before they lose altitude. Patricia steadies out and resumes climbing as he puts them into a sweeping turn.

Whipping his head around, Charlie watches the enemy fighter attempt to duplicate their maneuver. Not nearly the skilled pilot, the wings waver with a moment's indecision before tilting to shoot the gap. The nearer tree clutches a passing wing tip to send the hapless pilot into a spin that ends in a fiery impact. Looking resolutely forward, Agent Carmichael tries to forget their most recent near death experience. With a voice much calmer than the thoughts in his head. "I would have expected you to go for a smaller space, you know, show off a bit."

From the front seat, Johnny yells back, "I was considering it. Just didn't want to deal with your starstruck adoration the whole rest of the flight. Even though, I am that good."

"Can you hold off on regaling me with your Congressional Medal of Honor acceptance speech until after the mission?" Returning to business, Chuck hands forward a sheet with the coordinates of their final destination. "We're headed here. Our intel shows a field that should be able to serve as a landing strip. That will only put us about 10 miles from Leaders castle base."

"I hope you brought a book or something, this is going to be a long flight." Casey folds the sheet and clips it to the control panel. Once at altitude, he adjusts to their final heading and relaxes. "Should be smooth sailing from here Charlie boy."

"Seems to me I've heard that before." With nothing else to do, Agent Carmichael closes his eyes for a nap.

Forest outside of Hamburg

Elsewhere, Morgan Grimsley is painfully regaining consciousness. Regretting that right away, he had been dreaming a wonderful dream. First of all, it was pain free. Second, there was a lovely woman taking care of him, stroking his hair and beard, and....wait a minute. His body ached and there were certainly going to be many colorful bruises, that meant he was awake now. So why did he still feel the caresses? Carefully opening one eye, he spied a rather wild-haired and somewhat glaze-eyed man leaning over him. Yelping in fright, Morgan scuttled away on hands and feet, only making it a few yards before running smack into another pair of legs. Looking up, he observed a somewhat oily looking, darker skinned man.

"Look Lester, the fuzzy man is awake now. See, I told you some petting would wake him up. He's not as soft as a rabbit, but it was still nice." Turning his big eyes on Morgan, he speaks with somewhat childlike tones. "My name is Jeff, this is my friend Lester. He looks out for me. One day, Lester says we're going to buy a farm and he says we can have rabbits. I will get to feed them and pet them and raise them all by myself." Smiling with pride. "Do you like rabbits, stranger?"

The other man speaks before Morgan can think of how to respond. "Jeffrey, I'm sure he loves rabbits. But right now, I think we need to get him back to camp. The poor sod looks hurt." Moving his attention to the man at his feet. "You'll have to forgive Jeff, he means well, but isn't all there upstairs. Let's get you up. Our camp isn't far away and you seem to be in need of some tending."

Finally finding his voice, "Your camp? Umm...are you gypsies?" Looking back and forth between the mismatched pair.

"My dear sir, we are nothing of the kind. Before you are two star performers of the Buymorian National Circus." Lester makes overly grand gestures with his pronouncement. "We happen to be traveling to our next engagement and are camped just over that hill. Jeffrey, help the man to his feet. I'm sure he is eager to meet our ringleader, I mean ringmaster, Big Mike and the rest of our crew. After all, who hasn't heard tales of the famous BNC."

Thinking to himself so as not to offend. 'I haven't.' Jeff grabs hold of an arm and tugs Morgan to his feet. One girly scream later, the trio are following a well worn path away from the railbed and into the cover of trees. Lester was right about their camp being just over the hill. After a short stroll through the cool, shadowed forest, they arrive in a clearing. Morgan observes a cluster of the sorriest looking wagons he has ever seen. They may have once been brightly painted and well-maintained, but that was years ago. The largest man he has ever seen waddles to the center of the clearing and is joined by a ragtag band of misfits. Oh, and one gorgeous, exotic angel in clingy leathers and a tad too much makeup.

"Dang it Lester, Jeff. Another stray? We can't be taking in every person you two find." The large man then chomps down the remains of a pastry in two bites, surveying Morgan.

"Yes, I know Big Mike. But, the poor man is obviously addled in some way. Apparent from his injuries, he leaped from a train. I was thinking he might make a good Green Shirt." Lester pleads. "You know we need another one after what happened with Fernando during the Stuttgart incident...er....performance."

"Jumped from a train?" Using a more appraising eye, Big Mike gives Morgan a good up and down look. "He might qualify for a Green Shirt, that is pretty stupid."

Distracted by the multicolored eye makeup over deliciously slanted orbs, Morgan finally tumbles to the conversation going on about him. "What....what's a green shirt?"

Looking offended, they all stare at him. Big Mike points to a small group of men and women, all dressed in green shirts. "The Green Shirts are only Europe's most well known and talented clown troupe. A Buymorian National Circus treasure for over one-hundred years. Normally, it would require extensive training and an interview with our director to even consider such a thing. But, not just anyone has the brass to jump from a moving train. So, tell me son, do you want the job?"

Morgan's hand brushes against the pouch containing the secret plans. They were entrusted to him by the princess and she was counting on him. Before pushing him from a freaking train. Still though, family duty and all. Grimsleys have been serving the Windsor family for generations. He needed to get these plans to the rebel encampment. It might be easier to travel in the company of these people though, throw off the suspicions of any soldiers he would meet walking on his own. "Well, I was really hoping to make my way to Bremen. I....know....some friends. Yeah, friends that live just outside Bremen. They're expecting me."

"Just outside Bremen? They wouldn't live near the rebel encampment would they? We have a performance there coming up soon. Those rebels really know how to party, too." Big Mike smiles at the tables of food that dance in his mind.

"Really, you guys have heard of the rebellion? I would love to meet up with them. I'll be a Green Shirt if that means I can come with you." Morgan can't believe his luck.

"Then it's decided. Umm, what's your name? So I can have your shirt stenciled." Big Mike snaps his fingers and Lester whips out a pencil and paper.

"My name is Morgan. Morgan Grimsley." His attention slipping back to the lovely young woman that has been staring at him rather intently during the whole conversation.

"Morgan it is. Your shirt will be ready well before we reach Dresden." Big Mike turns to leave.

"Wait! Dresden! But, I thought we were going to Bremen?" Morgan's head snaps back in the direction of Big Mike.

"We are, right after a command performance in Dresden for some guy named Leader." Signaling the discussion is at an end, Big Mike disappears into his wagon.

Morgan smacks his forehead, "Doh!" He ponders the whole situation for a while before realizing the three performers are still standing there. Smiling tentatively, "So, circus performers. What do you do?"

Jeff is the first to speak up. "I'm really strong. So, Lester told me I could be the strong man. He says every circus needs a strong man. Every one says I'm really good at it too. I can lift over 800 pounds."

Eyes going wide, Morgan stammers in disbelief. "800 pounds. That's amazing."

"It's not that hard. I have beer muscles." Jeff smiles happily at the compliment while flexing his arms.

"Oooh, daddy. What are beer muscles?" Lauren asks with awe in her voice.

Linda adds quickly, "They sound really cool. I bet I could totally show up all the boys at school if I could do that trick in gym class. Or better, kung-fu class. The Sensei would make me his favorite student for sure."

"Yes, Chuck. Why don't you tell our eight year old daughters all about beer muscles." Frost coating Sarah's every word.

Looking at Sarah apologetically, Chuck replies. "I'm sorry girls, but, that's a circus performer secret and I really don't know it either. Maybe in another 10 years or so we can talk about it again."

"Awww...that's like forever." The twins whine at their Dad.

"Yes, pretty close to forever, just like when you can start dating." Chuck quips.

"Chuck, I think you should get back to your story now."

"Yes dear."

Morgan is suitably impressed by Jeff's skills. Next he asks Lester. "So, what is it you do in the circus."

"I, my dear friend, am a feline behavioral modification artiste." Lester intones gravely.

"He trains cats." The lovely young lady says with a sneer.

"Anna, Anna. Any buffoon can train a cat. I take it to a level that is pure magic." Says Lester with more of his grandiose hand gestures.

"No, you train cats. They're cats, you train 'em." Anna switches to a bored tone. Morgan looks on, coveting this new piece of knowledge. Her name is Anna.

"But you are forgetting the most important aspect. The one thing that sets me apart from the common cat trainers of the world." His voice taking on a hint of danger and mystery. "I only work with feral cats. Yes, my friend, you heard correctly. Feral cats, the most dangerous of small, furry creatures that were formerly domesticated."

Mumbling mostly to himself, Jeff comments. "They bite. Not like my rabbits. My rabbits will be soft and cuddly and I will hug them and squeeze them and feed them and pet them and give them names like George and Marvin."

"Yes Jeff, we know all about the rabbits." Lester snaps. Seeing the sadness spring to being in Jeff's eyes, he walks over to his friend. "I'm sorry Jeff. Let's go practice your act for the next few hours. Doesn't that sound nice?" Jeff nods as he's led away.

Morgan is now left standing with the mysterious Anna. He swallows nervously before he asks his question. "Miss Anna, your outfit does not speak to any particular circus act I have seen. What exactly do you do?"

Stepping in close, she lets her gaze travel up and down. "I am multi-talented. Let's see; acrobat, knife thrower, high wire walker, juggler, trapeze work and occasionally camp doctor. Come with me Morgan, you look like you could use a doctor." Taking his hand, she leads him to the wagon with the medical supplies.

Leader's Castle, overlooking Dresden

"I promise you sir, the princess will tell me where the plans are long before her precious rebels can do anything to stop us. It is a minor setback at most." Leader proclaims confidently. "And once this weapon is fully operational, no one will be able to stand in our way. We will control the ultimate power on the planet."

Static-filled, the response blares from a large set of speakers. "You'd better be right, Leader. This project has been a serious drain on the resources of the fatherland. Success is an imperative. I expect to hear that the plans have been recovered by your next progress report. Is that understood?"

Leader bows, even though his master cannot see it. "Yes sir, understood. I will have those plans in my possession soon. Even now, my men are scouring the countryside looking for her traveling companion. He won't be able to hide from us forever."

"Just get it done Leader. Or I will find someone who can." The static hum disappears as the transmission is abruptly cut off.

Sarah hears the dull, grating sound of her cell door opening. Leader steps in with an evil smirk. "Good evening Princess Windsor. I would like to discuss the location of the rebel base and the stolen plans." Two men enter behind him. They are carrying a small cabinet, two chairs and a folding table.

"I've got a bad feeling about this." She says under her breath.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"And that is all for tonight girls. Bed time for my ladies." Standing up, Chuck goes to Lauren and Linda, giving each a kiss. "Good night my angels."

The twins try their patented pouting routine to get more story, but Chuck is able to stand firm. He simply smiles and watches as Sarah quiets them down while tucking them in. She gets her good night kisses as well before limping her way to the door. Chuck offers his arm for support as they turn off the bedroom light with a last good night to the girls.

As they walk to their bedroom, Chuck can feel Sarah's attention is focused on him. "Yes dear?"

"I was just wondering. After the whole beer muscles faux pas, you aren't really going to have Leader torture the princess for information. I know our girls are mature for their age, but, they are only eight. I don't want you getting too carried away. Remember the first time you tried reading them Lord of the Rings? Those nightmares lasted for weeks after the Weathertop chapter."

"Don't you worry about that, Sarah. It won't be torture in the conventional sense you can be sure. The girls will be fine. I promise. Speaking of being fine, how are you and your leg doing?"

Sarah throws a little whine into her voice, "It's so painful right now Chuck. I don't think I'll be able to sleep like this. I really need your magic fingers tonight, honey. They always make everything all better." She puts on her best innocent lamb expression.

Not falling for the act, Chuck is compelled to ask. "Let me guess. You might need attention paid to more than just your leg?"

Sarah responds with a drawn out, "Maybe." Batting her lashes at him for added effect.

Chuck shuts the door to their bedroom and turns to find his wife slipping free of her nightgown. "I'm not going to get much sleep tonight, am I?"

Beckoning to him, Sarah answers with a shake of her head.