For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

An additional note: I apologize for my absence(s). Been a crazy two months, hoping to get things back on track. For anyone also waiting on the Jellie Epic, hope to get back on posting-schedule this week. Many thanks for your patience. ~K

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey and Ellie spend a quiet New Year's Eve at home, sleeping their way into 2011.

Stupid Cupid

She'd started the morning with hope. Much like Christmas, he'd told her he'd try to make it home in time. She knew how he loved her, how he would hate to disappoint her. So, she imagined something would happen. He'd have taken care of it. He'd have planned some kind of contingency, if he couldn't make it in person.

The flurry of delivery activity in the Westside Medical Center was insane. Balloons. Flowers. Stuffed animals. Chocolates. Some of the nurses had even bought the elementary school boxes of valentine cards and were spreading them around. Her lab coat pocket was overflowing with cartoon characters and super heroes.

But for each corny, cheesy message she received, the more she wanted something meaningful from him. Him who wasn't there. Him who was off saving the world. Him who was probably being shot at right at that very moment. She closed her eyes tightly at that idea.

She numbly wandered into the doctor's lounge, mumbling a mantra to herself. "No what-if's, no what-ifs, no what-ifs." It wasn't a what if, though, really. It was the plot to some crazy Michael Bay movie. Explosions. Gunfire. Screaming. Smoke. Flames. Pain.

"Get a grip, Eleanor," she chided as she sat down. "It's not really like that."

Casey wasn't exactly sure what day it was. The whole mission had been a disaster from wheel's up. Engine trouble had forced them to land at an airport that hadn't gotten the international security memo. The three of them wound up having to wait on Beckman and the nearby embassy to get them squared away and back on target. After all, their luggage was... explosive.

By the time they reached their destination, they had to play catch up, fast and loose with the mission prep. It had been down and dirty and shoddy-not the kind of thing any of them wanted to write to Beckman about.

Because of that, he'd wound up separated from Chuck and Sarah. Separated and taken. The Volkoff associate, a rude, despicable relic from the Cold War, delighted in torturing the Marine.

By the time Chuck's Intersect brain had finally figured out where Casey was being held, the big guy was in bad shape.

Sarah had struggled under Casey's nearly dead weight as Chuck kung-fu'ed their way to safety.

A drive across town ended at a nondescript house, in a bland-looking neighborhood. The CIA often had doctors and various specialty medical personnel in locations across the globe. And Casey was in desperate need of medical attention.

After pounding on the door, Sarah's blue eyes grew large when she recognized the person who had answered her knock. "Awesome?" she squeaked.

Devon was just as shocked. "Hey, Sarah!" He looked past her, expecting to see the other two musketeers. His grin disappeared when he saw how badly beaten and bloody Casey was, and how Chuck was having a hard time keeping the older man upright. "Bring him in," he said, turning into the serious Dr. Woodcomb.

Chuck and Sarah helped get Casey inside, laying him down on a cot in a room just off the entry.

"What happened?" Devon asked, scrubbing up.

"Not really sure," Chuck admitted.

Devon looked at Sarah. "Can you assist?"

The blonde bobbed her head.

"Chuck, bro... You have the hardest job," Devon said quietly.

"What's that?" Chuck asked, still in mild shock from everything.

"Call your sister."

Ellie had learned that, when her cell phone showed the call was from restricted, it usually meant they were coming from secured CIA/NSA satellite phones. Casey had called her once or twice before from them. She was practically giddy as she answered. He'd remembered! He'd thought of her on Valentine's Day after all! "John?" she answered excitedly.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Actually, sis, it's just me."

She tried, desperately, not to sound disappointed. "Hey, Chuck! Are you okay? You guys on your way home yet?"

"Not... Not exactly. To either question."

She numbly sat down. "What's wrong, Chuck?"

"He's being looked at right now. He's... y'know, he's a big guy, been through a hell of a lot before and been just fine."

She swallowed hard. "How bad is it?"

"Well, he has some power, y'know. Walking with assistance. The... the blood loss seems a little... a little extensive. I'm sure it looks a lot worse than it is, right? Head wounds tend to bleed a lot... right?"

She closed her eyes, that evil movie replaying in her head again. Only now, instead of dodging those bullets, he was hit with them. "How bad?" she asked again quietly.

"As soon as I know more, sis, I'll call you back. But he's... He is in good hands."

"A..." She paused. "One of your doctors? Not some local voodoo guy or... or some kind of homeopathic whatever?"

Chuck's smile was evident in his voice as he spoke. "Casey wouldn't let us live that down, if we took him to some kind of hippie doctor. No, this guy... This guy who's looking at him is awesome..."

"Chuck, I know... I know you can't tell me where you are or... or anything, but please keep me informed. On everything."

"I will," he promised. "I'm so sorry I didn't have better news, that I had to call at all."

"I know," she said quietly.

Hours later, Devon and Sarah emerged from Casey's room. Chuck, who had been pacing, stilled.

"Casey's going to be fine," Devon began. "He's dehydrated, lost some blood, broke and cracked some bones... It's nothing too serious, nothing some rest won't help cure. But, it hurts like hell, that's for sure."

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Devon. I can't imagine that was easy for you..."

"I took an oath. I'm doing my job. Besides, there's... There's no ill will, Chuck, really. There never was."

Chuck nodded.

"How..." Devon cleared his throat. "How is Ellie?"

"She's good. Y'know. Good spirits, in good health... I think she's pretty freaked out at the moment, but she'll be fine."

"Listen, he's a little loopy at the moment, but he could probably make a phone call, a short one," said Devon. "Today is a pretty special day after all."

"Today? What is today?" Chuck asked, confused. Time had become something of an anomaly on that mission.

Sarah checked her watch then inhaled slowly. "Chuck?"

He looked at her.

"It's Valentine's Day."

Ellie wound up working late. She'd rather stay busy to distract herself than sit at home. With Downy, who could only offer so much assistance. And worry. She slowed only for a moment when she heard her phone ring.

It was that restricted number again.

She quickly rushed into a quiet room. "Chuck?" she asked, hopeful for news on Casey.

There was an amused, if weak, grunt. "Not quite."

"John!"

"I'm sorry if Chuck scared you. I'd rather he didn't."

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" she asked, the questions tumbling out of her mouth so quickly.

"Like I got run over by an Abrams tank. Twice. I'm fine, though, Ellie. I'm..." He paused. "I'm going to be laid up here for a few more days. But when I get home, we'll have Valentine's Day. It'll just be a little late."

"As long as you're okay, John, that's all that matters to me now."

"It matters to me. Missing holidays and events with you. So..." He cleared his throat. "So, you should be getting a delivery soon."

"What?"

"Alex is bringing you dinner for me. Nothing spectacular. But, something for now, to hold you over until I get home."

"Your voice is all I need, John. I can wait."

"I love you, Ellie."

"I love you, too," she whispered.

Stay tuned...