[ 10_hurt_comfort: chuck/casey ] [ Emotion: Typically Cliché ]
[ Fandom | Chuck ]
[ Characters | Chuck / Casey ]
[ Rating | PG-13 ]
[ Word Count | 2,809 ]
[ Masterlist | Here ]
[ Summary | Chuck reflects upon life. ]
[ Disclaimer | If I were the owner of Chuck, there would have been more Casey and Chuck giving one another smouldering gazes. So nada, I just play in this sandbox. ]
I know I wear my heart on my sleeve and I can't cheat a blind person at a poker game. These kinds of things take time that I do not have, the poker skills that is. The lying gets a little easier as it is in the best interests of my friends and family that I do it. Every time Ellie or Morgan believes my lie, I break a little more on the inside. But with their safety, it is in my best interest to do so and continue to do so.
There is no way I can compare to Cole or Bryce or Casey when it comes to spy stuff. They're professionals and chose to become spies for whatever reason or circumstance. It is their bread and butter with all the intricacies and entanglements that I wonder if it would be easy for them to simply forget who they truly were. With layers upon layers and the web entanglement of lies and deceit, spies could easily lose their way. But I still try because that is all I can do to keep my family and friends safe.
Sarah and Casey have been going at it behind my back for weeks now about me about training, arguing at every given opportunity. I've heard them talk when they think I'm not listening and have spied on them through the Orange Orange console. The NSA and the General herself want me to become a proper spy, someone that can do a little more than pull the Morgan whenever his life is in danger. Sarah doesn't want me to enter this whole espionage thing, she wants to protect me. But with all the secrets in my head, it's impossible to not take that first step to preserve the life that so many people lead innocently and can continue to do so because I am able to protect these government secrets. So we're at a bit of a stalemate in our fake girlfriend boyfriend and just friends thing. I'm starting to think Sarah has become infatuated with being a normal person again and not for me.
Sarah Walker and Chuck Bartowski were at ends, simply infatuated with the life the other leads.
I float through days as a Nerd Herder but it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep my life separate. Being undercover is not easy when around every corner is someone that I used to go to school with or someone I have worked with that should never know about what lies underneath my skull. Sarah and Casey make it look effortless and I try. The missions will never stop and humans will continue to drive one another in a perpetual cycle of greed and death.
If it hadn't been for the Intersect, I wouldn't have ever met Sarah: the ideal but deadly woman that I had always envisioned myself being with. I would never have met Casey: all bad ass, hard muscles and intimidation techniques with a penchant for weapons (the longer and larger the firepower, the better). They are my shadows that I have gotten so accustomed to that I sometimes forget that they won't be with me forever. I know the new Intersect is being built but for a little while longer, I'd like to think they would be looking out for me and watching my back until we're all grey and wrinkly.
It still brings me back to square one about the whole turning into a proper spy thing. I want to prove to them that I can be Special Agent Charmichael and that I wasn't just any other asset.
Sarah questions me as soon as I suggest that something be done and I would begin training. Why she is trying so hard to convince me to stay as a civilian with her warnings I am unsure about. Casey on the other hand seems entirely pleased with my decision. I try to placate Sarah with a smile and assure that everything will be fine. Because everything will be, Casey wouldn't allow it. It doesn't help that Chumbawumba's Tubthumping song is playing in my head, no matter how fitting.
We start off lightly. I join in Casey's morning runs and Sarah walks me through some of the basic self-defence moves after work. If missions weren't on, then Casey would drag me off to the Castle's training room where he would presume to pummel me into the padded mats. I get knocked down but I get up again. Thanks Chumbawumba. One day when I manage to land a decent hit on Casey's jaw, the man only smirks and returns the hit with more force. Even as my everything throbs, I can't help feel myself swell with pride at that smirk that spoke of approval and other wondrous things.
The Buy More is thankfully quiet - with the major season of giving having gone and past. This equates to afternoon shenanigans from one best friend and the other employees crowded around the cage out the back in a do-or-die battle arena. It feels strangely like an episode of Gladiators and I can appreciate Anna's skills with a camera tripod. Casey joins me a few minutes later, his beefy shoulder propped up on the other side of the doorway. He makes a call to the NSA and contacts them about having found a potential recruit. What I'd do to have him look at me like that with approval in his blue eyes.
A few months pass by and Morgan has seen the change in my physique. Lean muscle now covers my lank thanks to Casey’s hard working regime. Somehow I doubt I would ever have guns as thick as trees or be as ripped as the Colonel, but it's an improvement. Ellie certainly had noticed my metamorphosis and Awesome, having caught me sneaking out the Morgan Door not once but thrice, seems to approve of my choice in jogging partner. Casey didn’t seem too fussed that Awesome knew and hustles me out to start our daily run.
My relationship with Casey has changed drastically over this time and subsequently so has my relationship with Sarah. There is more than meets the eye when it comes to the NSA agent. How Casey manages to be so cold and emotionless I don’t think I will ever master. Three wars and twenty years in the service can do that to a guy; Casey had commented nonchalantly during one of our evening spars and says nothing else as we continued to box it out. It wasn't healthy. It's difficult to bottle up emotion. Newton’s Third Law applies here. Everything has an equal and opposite reaction and basket cases in the psychiatric wards around the country are testaments to that.
I hadn't noticed how much time I spent with Casey until Ellie comments upon it one day, wondering why Sarah hadn't been coming around as often for family dinner. I couldn't tell her about how Casey had been training me down at the firing range. Or the way he had pressed so close to my back when adjusting my grip on his gun that had made me hyper aware of the other man's scent. Or the time I may have accidentally pretended to tie my shoe outside his window so I could watch him pull his shirt off through his blinds.
So I did my best and spun up a little white lie about how Sarah had been busy with work - which probably wasn't too far off the mark. It definitely wouldn’t do if Ellie found out I was stalking Casey. What surprises me next is when my sister reaches over the table and pats the back of my hand.
"I understand. It's ok Chuck. I know everything."
I glance at her quizzically. There is a burst of heat and the beginnings of some feeling in my stomach that could only be apprehension. She knows. Ellie knows about my life as a secret agent and whilst I am so extremely glad to know that she knew, her reactions are the ones I worry about. After all, now that Ellie knows, she would become a target and all the evil agencies tend to fancy having some sort of leverage when they couldn't get their way. I couldn’t risk my sister like that.
"John is a lovely neighbour. Although I do not approve of his public displays and drinking habits, you should invite him to dinner some time."
And she had completely overshot that mark, despite hitting the target to something else I hadn't even realised could have become one.
"I think you are mistaken Ellie. Casey and I are just friends. I'm dating Sarah!"
My sister just scoffs as she stands over the sink and washes the dishes. "Please Chuck. I’m your sister. Anyway, how often have you seen Sarah lately? Devon sees you coming and going with John all the time. Don’t tell me. Charles Bartowski, are you secretly cheating on Sarah?" She wields a blade with what must have been a flash of anger.
"Wh-What? No! I love her!" Or at least I think I still do. Lately it’s been very difficult to tell and even more difficult to keep up with Sarah when she attracts superspies and males around her like it is second nature. As easily as Morgan repels women around him would be an appropriate simile to use, though no offense to my buddy there.
Somehow, those words manage to appease Ellie and she changes the topic into realms of conversation that are safer. Infinitely safer and won’t blow my cover as a pseudo-about-to-be-there-spy because John Casey our neighbour just happens to be training me up and I may or may not have developed feelings for him which will undoubtedly be thrust in my face because if I know Casey like I know how dextrous the thumb muscles in my hand are, he scoffs at the idea of showing anything remotely akin to emotions outside of passion for gunfire and explosions.
I watch as Ellie shuffles off to bed and wave with yet another fake smile. It appears that I have a natural talent for lying through my teeth. “… Haha… Casey’s just a friend. And I am dating Sarah even though I’m not seeing much of her lately.” Nope definitely don’t have any sort of reaction, bodily or otherwise, when I think about Casey. Nothing a game of Mass Effect can’t fix as I mull over the sudden change in my interests.
When did my apparent attraction for Casey begin? And for that matter, since when did Sarah stop being someone I pine over. Sure Jill and Lou hadn’t exactly simplified that equation but everyone knows how well both of those relationships went. One stabbed me in the back numerously and the other had definitely not been my finest moment. Sarah and I have this hot and cold relationship and it was now a cold part as we have another break up yet again. My string of luck with women hasn’t exactly been any of my crowning moments and if the Intersect stays in my head, I don’t think it ever will improve. So what if I may have a new found appreciation for Casey's biceps as they flex and ripple when my favourite NSA Handler does some heavy lifting around the Buy More. More importantly, I'm just glad that Jeff and Lester hadn't figured it out or I would never hear the end of it.
I press start on my Xbox controller and flop backwards onto my mattress and into the softness of my pillow. It is embarrassing just thinking about it. Him. John Casey. God I’m acting like a teenager who just found the meaning of what raging testosterone could do. There was that one time when Anna had joined me. She seems to have developed the powers of precognition because back then training was in its early days. She’s scarily observant. As I sat behind the counter and she perched daintily upon it and we watched Casey move some boxes, talk (scratch that, intimidate) customers into buying merchandise; the way he smirks to himself after every done deal and how once he had caught me staring. His blue eyes were shielded but still twinkled with mischief. You like him, Chuckles.
The next time Casey and I spar is the one time Sarah joins us in months and I am entirely and completely distracted by my thoughts. I make all the amateur mistakes that Casey had supposedly punched out of me. Within five minutes, Casey announces a break and disappears with Sarah in tow. I stare at my reflection and scowl at my inability to focus. Never in a thousand years would I have thought to ache for a man. Casey’s small pleased lip quirk from yesterday’s firing practice when I had managed to fire the entire magazine on the target where he wanted me to still plays on my mind. In fact it may have been on repeat just how amazing a pleased Casey could be. What I’d give to see that man smile in a typically cliché heart soaring moment that will most likely leave my stomach with butterflies.
He returns minutes later with Sarah and growls at me to focus. And I do. Mostly on the way his black shirt clings so snugly over his muscles that ripples when he throws a punch that not even Sarah’s curves can tear my mind away from them.
This must be what going mad feels like, and if so, I rather like it.
It is all so confusing and Doctor Morgan is my only hope. He’s surprisingly understanding about the entire situation (I wonder if Anna had said anything to him). The home theatre room becomes his office, because my room is bugged to high hell and the object of my affection is straight on the other side of those bugs. We dive head first into the cause and effect of mine having become Casey-sexual. I try to omit all the nitty gritty details about missions and why on earth I spend an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening (mission time allowing) of mostly every day with him.
It’s difficult to gauge reactions when it comes to a professional superspy especially when feelings and relationships are involved. Ilsa had been an interesting side to Casey. I still have issues trying to bury the images of Casey in a suit and emerging from the pool dripping wet, kind of like Daniel Craig in Casino Royale only hotter and more real. Morgan tells me to plunge straight in and grab the proverbial bull by the horns. Then promptly fails to cleverly compare bulls and Casey much to my amusement. Tell him straight out how I feel.
Given how much time I do spend talking to Casey about my emotions, that may not be such the boldest move but I thank Doctor Morgan for his services and we spend the night playing Call of Duty 4 at the Buy More.
I find the opportunity to invite Casey and Sarah over to a family dinner complete with Morgan. No one can ever resist Ellie’s cooking. Ellie sneakily makes Casey and I sit together. The dinner goes off without a hitch with easy conversation and smiles that are more genuine. Once dinner ends, Sarah leaves with Morgan and Casey isn’t that far behind. Ellie smiles and ushers me out the door and winks as she and Awesome wash the dishes.
“Hey Casey. Wait up, big guy.”
I say the first thing that pops up into my mind once we are shoulder to shoulder. “Gosh. You’re tall.” Morgan appears out of nowhere and is about to speak when Casey turns to him and smirks.
“Quiet shrimp, tall people talking. Get out.” If Morgan wasn’t afraid and had an inferiority complex he may have stayed. I watch my friend scamper away into the darkness and flicker my eyes back up to look at Casey’s. The mischievous twinkle was back in his eye. His eyebrow is raised and from time to time his gaze flickers from my eyes to elsewhere (my lips?) before staring back again.
Just say it. Justsayit. You never had this problem before when it isn’t talking about how you want to take Casey out (oh god, where does one take John Casey out on a date in the first place?). Casey's lip twitches some as I try to fill in the silence with more words, anything and everything but asking the man out.
“Bartowski. What is it you wanted to say that doesn’t involve a recollection of your family history?”
“Willyougooutwithme? Oh God. I said it. Please don’t shoot me.”
“Chuck. I’m not going to shoot you.”
“Then is it okay if I kiss you?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Author's Comment Seventh one for 10_hurt_comfort. Had a fun time with this one, probably should have put some more polish on this one, but this'll do for now.
[ Characters | Chuck / Casey ]
[ Rating | PG-13 ]
[ Word Count | 2,809 ]
[ Masterlist | Here ]
[ Summary | Chuck reflects upon life. ]
[ Disclaimer | If I were the owner of Chuck, there would have been more Casey and Chuck giving one another smouldering gazes. So nada, I just play in this sandbox. ]
I know I wear my heart on my sleeve and I can't cheat a blind person at a poker game. These kinds of things take time that I do not have, the poker skills that is. The lying gets a little easier as it is in the best interests of my friends and family that I do it. Every time Ellie or Morgan believes my lie, I break a little more on the inside. But with their safety, it is in my best interest to do so and continue to do so.
There is no way I can compare to Cole or Bryce or Casey when it comes to spy stuff. They're professionals and chose to become spies for whatever reason or circumstance. It is their bread and butter with all the intricacies and entanglements that I wonder if it would be easy for them to simply forget who they truly were. With layers upon layers and the web entanglement of lies and deceit, spies could easily lose their way. But I still try because that is all I can do to keep my family and friends safe.
Sarah and Casey have been going at it behind my back for weeks now about me about training, arguing at every given opportunity. I've heard them talk when they think I'm not listening and have spied on them through the Orange Orange console. The NSA and the General herself want me to become a proper spy, someone that can do a little more than pull the Morgan whenever his life is in danger. Sarah doesn't want me to enter this whole espionage thing, she wants to protect me. But with all the secrets in my head, it's impossible to not take that first step to preserve the life that so many people lead innocently and can continue to do so because I am able to protect these government secrets. So we're at a bit of a stalemate in our fake girlfriend boyfriend and just friends thing. I'm starting to think Sarah has become infatuated with being a normal person again and not for me.
Sarah Walker and Chuck Bartowski were at ends, simply infatuated with the life the other leads.
I float through days as a Nerd Herder but it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep my life separate. Being undercover is not easy when around every corner is someone that I used to go to school with or someone I have worked with that should never know about what lies underneath my skull. Sarah and Casey make it look effortless and I try. The missions will never stop and humans will continue to drive one another in a perpetual cycle of greed and death.
If it hadn't been for the Intersect, I wouldn't have ever met Sarah: the ideal but deadly woman that I had always envisioned myself being with. I would never have met Casey: all bad ass, hard muscles and intimidation techniques with a penchant for weapons (the longer and larger the firepower, the better). They are my shadows that I have gotten so accustomed to that I sometimes forget that they won't be with me forever. I know the new Intersect is being built but for a little while longer, I'd like to think they would be looking out for me and watching my back until we're all grey and wrinkly.
It still brings me back to square one about the whole turning into a proper spy thing. I want to prove to them that I can be Special Agent Charmichael and that I wasn't just any other asset.
Sarah questions me as soon as I suggest that something be done and I would begin training. Why she is trying so hard to convince me to stay as a civilian with her warnings I am unsure about. Casey on the other hand seems entirely pleased with my decision. I try to placate Sarah with a smile and assure that everything will be fine. Because everything will be, Casey wouldn't allow it. It doesn't help that Chumbawumba's Tubthumping song is playing in my head, no matter how fitting.
We start off lightly. I join in Casey's morning runs and Sarah walks me through some of the basic self-defence moves after work. If missions weren't on, then Casey would drag me off to the Castle's training room where he would presume to pummel me into the padded mats. I get knocked down but I get up again. Thanks Chumbawumba. One day when I manage to land a decent hit on Casey's jaw, the man only smirks and returns the hit with more force. Even as my everything throbs, I can't help feel myself swell with pride at that smirk that spoke of approval and other wondrous things.
The Buy More is thankfully quiet - with the major season of giving having gone and past. This equates to afternoon shenanigans from one best friend and the other employees crowded around the cage out the back in a do-or-die battle arena. It feels strangely like an episode of Gladiators and I can appreciate Anna's skills with a camera tripod. Casey joins me a few minutes later, his beefy shoulder propped up on the other side of the doorway. He makes a call to the NSA and contacts them about having found a potential recruit. What I'd do to have him look at me like that with approval in his blue eyes.
A few months pass by and Morgan has seen the change in my physique. Lean muscle now covers my lank thanks to Casey’s hard working regime. Somehow I doubt I would ever have guns as thick as trees or be as ripped as the Colonel, but it's an improvement. Ellie certainly had noticed my metamorphosis and Awesome, having caught me sneaking out the Morgan Door not once but thrice, seems to approve of my choice in jogging partner. Casey didn’t seem too fussed that Awesome knew and hustles me out to start our daily run.
My relationship with Casey has changed drastically over this time and subsequently so has my relationship with Sarah. There is more than meets the eye when it comes to the NSA agent. How Casey manages to be so cold and emotionless I don’t think I will ever master. Three wars and twenty years in the service can do that to a guy; Casey had commented nonchalantly during one of our evening spars and says nothing else as we continued to box it out. It wasn't healthy. It's difficult to bottle up emotion. Newton’s Third Law applies here. Everything has an equal and opposite reaction and basket cases in the psychiatric wards around the country are testaments to that.
I hadn't noticed how much time I spent with Casey until Ellie comments upon it one day, wondering why Sarah hadn't been coming around as often for family dinner. I couldn't tell her about how Casey had been training me down at the firing range. Or the way he had pressed so close to my back when adjusting my grip on his gun that had made me hyper aware of the other man's scent. Or the time I may have accidentally pretended to tie my shoe outside his window so I could watch him pull his shirt off through his blinds.
So I did my best and spun up a little white lie about how Sarah had been busy with work - which probably wasn't too far off the mark. It definitely wouldn’t do if Ellie found out I was stalking Casey. What surprises me next is when my sister reaches over the table and pats the back of my hand.
"I understand. It's ok Chuck. I know everything."
I glance at her quizzically. There is a burst of heat and the beginnings of some feeling in my stomach that could only be apprehension. She knows. Ellie knows about my life as a secret agent and whilst I am so extremely glad to know that she knew, her reactions are the ones I worry about. After all, now that Ellie knows, she would become a target and all the evil agencies tend to fancy having some sort of leverage when they couldn't get their way. I couldn’t risk my sister like that.
"John is a lovely neighbour. Although I do not approve of his public displays and drinking habits, you should invite him to dinner some time."
And she had completely overshot that mark, despite hitting the target to something else I hadn't even realised could have become one.
"I think you are mistaken Ellie. Casey and I are just friends. I'm dating Sarah!"
My sister just scoffs as she stands over the sink and washes the dishes. "Please Chuck. I’m your sister. Anyway, how often have you seen Sarah lately? Devon sees you coming and going with John all the time. Don’t tell me. Charles Bartowski, are you secretly cheating on Sarah?" She wields a blade with what must have been a flash of anger.
"Wh-What? No! I love her!" Or at least I think I still do. Lately it’s been very difficult to tell and even more difficult to keep up with Sarah when she attracts superspies and males around her like it is second nature. As easily as Morgan repels women around him would be an appropriate simile to use, though no offense to my buddy there.
Somehow, those words manage to appease Ellie and she changes the topic into realms of conversation that are safer. Infinitely safer and won’t blow my cover as a pseudo-about-to-be-there-spy because John Casey our neighbour just happens to be training me up and I may or may not have developed feelings for him which will undoubtedly be thrust in my face because if I know Casey like I know how dextrous the thumb muscles in my hand are, he scoffs at the idea of showing anything remotely akin to emotions outside of passion for gunfire and explosions.
I watch as Ellie shuffles off to bed and wave with yet another fake smile. It appears that I have a natural talent for lying through my teeth. “… Haha… Casey’s just a friend. And I am dating Sarah even though I’m not seeing much of her lately.” Nope definitely don’t have any sort of reaction, bodily or otherwise, when I think about Casey. Nothing a game of Mass Effect can’t fix as I mull over the sudden change in my interests.
When did my apparent attraction for Casey begin? And for that matter, since when did Sarah stop being someone I pine over. Sure Jill and Lou hadn’t exactly simplified that equation but everyone knows how well both of those relationships went. One stabbed me in the back numerously and the other had definitely not been my finest moment. Sarah and I have this hot and cold relationship and it was now a cold part as we have another break up yet again. My string of luck with women hasn’t exactly been any of my crowning moments and if the Intersect stays in my head, I don’t think it ever will improve. So what if I may have a new found appreciation for Casey's biceps as they flex and ripple when my favourite NSA Handler does some heavy lifting around the Buy More. More importantly, I'm just glad that Jeff and Lester hadn't figured it out or I would never hear the end of it.
I press start on my Xbox controller and flop backwards onto my mattress and into the softness of my pillow. It is embarrassing just thinking about it. Him. John Casey. God I’m acting like a teenager who just found the meaning of what raging testosterone could do. There was that one time when Anna had joined me. She seems to have developed the powers of precognition because back then training was in its early days. She’s scarily observant. As I sat behind the counter and she perched daintily upon it and we watched Casey move some boxes, talk (scratch that, intimidate) customers into buying merchandise; the way he smirks to himself after every done deal and how once he had caught me staring. His blue eyes were shielded but still twinkled with mischief. You like him, Chuckles.
The next time Casey and I spar is the one time Sarah joins us in months and I am entirely and completely distracted by my thoughts. I make all the amateur mistakes that Casey had supposedly punched out of me. Within five minutes, Casey announces a break and disappears with Sarah in tow. I stare at my reflection and scowl at my inability to focus. Never in a thousand years would I have thought to ache for a man. Casey’s small pleased lip quirk from yesterday’s firing practice when I had managed to fire the entire magazine on the target where he wanted me to still plays on my mind. In fact it may have been on repeat just how amazing a pleased Casey could be. What I’d give to see that man smile in a typically cliché heart soaring moment that will most likely leave my stomach with butterflies.
He returns minutes later with Sarah and growls at me to focus. And I do. Mostly on the way his black shirt clings so snugly over his muscles that ripples when he throws a punch that not even Sarah’s curves can tear my mind away from them.
This must be what going mad feels like, and if so, I rather like it.
It is all so confusing and Doctor Morgan is my only hope. He’s surprisingly understanding about the entire situation (I wonder if Anna had said anything to him). The home theatre room becomes his office, because my room is bugged to high hell and the object of my affection is straight on the other side of those bugs. We dive head first into the cause and effect of mine having become Casey-sexual. I try to omit all the nitty gritty details about missions and why on earth I spend an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening (mission time allowing) of mostly every day with him.
It’s difficult to gauge reactions when it comes to a professional superspy especially when feelings and relationships are involved. Ilsa had been an interesting side to Casey. I still have issues trying to bury the images of Casey in a suit and emerging from the pool dripping wet, kind of like Daniel Craig in Casino Royale only hotter and more real. Morgan tells me to plunge straight in and grab the proverbial bull by the horns. Then promptly fails to cleverly compare bulls and Casey much to my amusement. Tell him straight out how I feel.
Given how much time I do spend talking to Casey about my emotions, that may not be such the boldest move but I thank Doctor Morgan for his services and we spend the night playing Call of Duty 4 at the Buy More.
I find the opportunity to invite Casey and Sarah over to a family dinner complete with Morgan. No one can ever resist Ellie’s cooking. Ellie sneakily makes Casey and I sit together. The dinner goes off without a hitch with easy conversation and smiles that are more genuine. Once dinner ends, Sarah leaves with Morgan and Casey isn’t that far behind. Ellie smiles and ushers me out the door and winks as she and Awesome wash the dishes.
“Hey Casey. Wait up, big guy.”
I say the first thing that pops up into my mind once we are shoulder to shoulder. “Gosh. You’re tall.” Morgan appears out of nowhere and is about to speak when Casey turns to him and smirks.
“Quiet shrimp, tall people talking. Get out.” If Morgan wasn’t afraid and had an inferiority complex he may have stayed. I watch my friend scamper away into the darkness and flicker my eyes back up to look at Casey’s. The mischievous twinkle was back in his eye. His eyebrow is raised and from time to time his gaze flickers from my eyes to elsewhere (my lips?) before staring back again.
Just say it. Justsayit. You never had this problem before when it isn’t talking about how you want to take Casey out (oh god, where does one take John Casey out on a date in the first place?). Casey's lip twitches some as I try to fill in the silence with more words, anything and everything but asking the man out.
“Bartowski. What is it you wanted to say that doesn’t involve a recollection of your family history?”
“Willyougooutwithme? Oh God. I said it. Please don’t shoot me.”
“Chuck. I’m not going to shoot you.”
“Then is it okay if I kiss you?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Author's Comment Seventh one for 10_hurt_comfort. Had a fun time with this one, probably should have put some more polish on this one, but this'll do for now.