Vengeful

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She had whimpered, high and sweet, almost a keen. That was what had brought Casey to his senses, enough to pull back from Ellie. The sound echoed in his head as he stood and walked away and left her there alone. It resounded through his sleep that night. It was still there in his mind the next morning, which was the cause of his particularly rotten mood that entire day. He was so surly at the Buy More that Chuck took to heading people off if they looked inclined to approach Casey for anything at all.

So he had made zero sales due to Chuck steering everyone clear of him. But he also didn't damage anyone, which in retrospect was a good thing. After 'work', Casey was out in the yard trying to expend his pent-up frustration. He was attacking weeds growing against the side of the house (with rather more vehemence than weeds generally called for) when Woodcomb arrived home. Striding up the walk in his scrubs, the doctor waved with a friendly smile. Casey tipped his chin in response, politely if silently. But as Ellie's fiancé disappeared into the house he shared with the two Bartowskis, Casey was pondering what size bullet would make the nicest hole in the other man's head.

Ellie, on the other hand, spent the day trying to avoid Magritte at the hospital. That worked for most of her shift, but her friend caught her before she left the parking lot and demanded that they go somewhere and talk. Ellie resigned herself to having coffee and facing the music. Magritte had a number of potent words to unload, and she did so. It took her awhile to finally wind down to:

"Ellie Bartowski, that was absolutely the worst set-up I've ever had. And believe me, that's saying something."

Ellie really didn't have much with which she could respond, except to say that John wasn't normally like that, something must have been wrong with him yesterday, and she was so, so sorry. Magritte wasn't one to hold grudges, so at least they were able to part with their friendship intact. Though as they were walking out of the coffee shop, Magritte got the last word in.

"You owe me, Ellie. You owe me big."

Ellie could only nod resignedly, because she did.

That night, Devon appeared for supper, and even hung around afterward, surprising Ellie by helping to clean up. That was something he'd done frequently in the past, but not at all in the more-recent past.

"Ellie," he said, laying the kitchen towel that he held down on a counter and coming up behind her to bracket her with his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head. Shocked, Ellie froze where she was.

"I want you to know that I'm good now," he told her softly. He ran his hands down her bare arms and tangled their fingers together. Not knowing what to think, Ellie let him tug her around. He smiled down at her. "I kind of had a problem there for awhile, but it's resolved. No more problems now. So you have nothing to worry about, Ellie." He leaned forward and caught her lips in a kiss. Ellie couldn't think how long it had been since he'd kissed her; she couldn't think at all, really. She just stood there and blinked as Devon pulled away and smiled gently down at her. "We're all good," he affirmed again, and stroked her cheek. "I have to go meet some friends right now, but I'm going to be around a lot more. We can kick the wedding preparation back into high gear."

Ellie didn't move as she watched him disappear into the bedroom. Once the door closed, she managed to shake her head. She was supposed to be able to shift gears that fast? Go from months of silence and distance to sweet smiles and soft words? "Slow down a bit, fella," she muttered, finishing up the last bits in the kitchen. Devon came out, pushed his feet into shoes, and with a jaunty wave went out the door and was off with his friends. Ellie shook her head bemusedly, and somewhat sadly, finding she was just glad to have him out of the house.

But tonight, she had other concerns. Moving with purpose, she went and plopped down on the couch beside her brother, who had the TV turned to an old Dr. Who episode. She swung her tired, sock-clad feet up onto the cushion and watched her toes rock back and forth.

"Chuck," she said in a commanding tone. He flicked her a glance but kept his real focus on the TV screen. She nudged his leg with her foot, not very gently.

"Last night at dinner you seemed ... like you were expecting something from John. Something, maybe, just like what he did." She narrowed her eyes at him.

Chuck tipped her another glance, and then with obvious reluctance picked up the remote and muted Dr. Who. He tilted his torso in her direction, too. Progress, although he was still sneaking sideways peeks at the screen.

"Not ... exactly," he responded. "But I knew he was going to resist being set up, Ellie. I told you that going in."

And so he had. Ellie nodded, ceding him that point. What she really wanted to get at was another, much more burning question, anyway.

"Well, from what I knew of him before last night, I wasn't expecting anything of the sort. Just what kind of man is That ... guy?"

"Casey?" Chuck cocked his head at what he obviously found to be an odd question. He was looking fully at her, now; she'd managed to usurp all his attention from Dr. Who. "Just to double-check, Ellie; you're waiting to ask this until after you've tried – disastrously, I might add – to set him up with a friend of yours?"

Ellie smiled ruefully. "Yes, Chuck, that's what I'm doing."

"Well." Chuck rubbed his chin. He seemed to have nothing to say.

"Come on, Chuck. He's your friend. I hope you know something about him."

"I do, I do, I'm just ... undecided as to what to tell you."

Ellie wrinkled her forehead at him. He was talking crazy.

"Ok. Ok." He straightened his shoulders industriously. "Casey. I think ... I think I can safely say that Casey would give his life for me."

Ellie's feet stopped rocking. Her eyebrows climbed her forehead.

"That was ... really not what I was expecting you to say."

"Yeah. I'm probably safe in saying that he'd shoot me, too, give the, uh, provocation. Or orders."

"What?" Ellie stared.

Chuck shook his head and reached for the remote again.

"Nevermind, Ellie."

Dr. Who sounded forth on the subject of Daleks. Ellie let it go, though she was left with her questions unanswered. She really didn't know where her brother's brain was. But she had other things to contemplate, too, things her brother couldn't help her with.

Things like revenge.