"Rescue Me", 1/1, Casey/Ellie, PG
Title: Rescue Me
Author: blood_on_thorns
Fandom: Chuck
Characters/Pairings: Casey/Ellie
Classification: Friendship, hints of romance
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Seriously? If this were my show, Casey would be naked (or at least shirtless) in every episode. He's not, so obviously it's not. my. show.
Summary: Third in the "Moments" series. Ellie needs Casey's help, and to his surprise, he doesn't want to give it. He does, of course. It's Ellie.
A/N: I have to quit apologizing for these little "fic-lites", but I'm going to anyway. I'm sorry that they continue to be so insubstantial, but apparently all my baby-fried brain is capable of doing is fluff and randomness. The fact that I was actually able to write this at all is still amazing to me, as I have been incapable of writing anything lately. *sigh*
A/N 2: I give up. I have been fighting with the fucking LJ-cut formatting for nearly half an hour. First it wanted to highlight all the text in light blue. Then it jacked with the sizing and made the text gigantic and accompanied by little bits of formatting code babble. Then it showed the LJ-cut link, the text I created for the link, and then followed that by the entire text of the fic, outside of the cut. I am so effing irritated right now I could scream, but I've had this fic done for weeks and never gotten around to posting it so I am posting it now, damn it, come hell or high water. I'm sorry if it's long on your flist page. I'll try dicking with the formatting again later, but right now, I'm cussing and hissing and spitting and I just want to be done with it.
/end rant
"Rescue Me"
“I need your help.”
Casey flinched at the sound of the words-more accurately, at the desperation behind them. “This can’t be good.”
“Chuck’s birthday is in one week and I have no idea what to get him!” Ellie wailed in frustration.
Casey grimaced and put his hand on her back to guide her away from the crowded Buy More floor. He saw one of the theater rooms was dark and empty and he led her in to the secluded space. The last thing he needed was a very vocal Ellie Bartowski losing her cool in the middle of a crowd of customers. “So what do you need my help for?” It didn’t seem odd to him that she would request his help in general. They’d seen each other frequently in the weeks since their post-ski-shopping-lunch date, and much to his surprise, had actually built on the friendship they’d tentatively begun the day he showed her his gun. It just baffled him why she would ask for his help in relation to Chuck. Surely she’d noticed that he spent more time with her than with the less attractive Bartowski.
Ellie rolled her eyes impatiently. “You’re one of Chuck’s best friends. Well, besides Morgan and Sarah, but Morgan would be no help and I can’t be alone with him to ask him, anyway.”
Casey curled his lip. “And you can’t ask Sarah, why?” He skirted the issue of being labeled ‘one of Chuck’s best friends’. He couldn’t very well growl that Bartowski annoyed the crap out of him, not to said annoyance’s beautiful older sister.
Ellie sighed. “Sarah would give me girl advice. I want boy advice. I need one of Chuck’s manly friends to tell me what he wants. And, well, you’re the only manly friend he has.”
Casey refused to allow himself to be pleased at her assessment of his manliness. “What about Devon ?” he countered.
Ellie blinked, thrown for a moment. She hadn’t even considered Devon .
Casey saw her hesitation and smirked. Instead of making one of his customary acerbic put-downs toward Devon , he steered the conversation back to-well, equally dangerous territory. “El, Chuck and I aren’t exactly bestests. I work with him, I see him outside work on occasion, I can carry on a conversation over a beer.” God kill me if that ever happens. Better yet, kill Bartowski. “That doesn’t mean I know him well enough to give you the best gift idea ever.”
Ellie exhaled sharply. “You’re no help, John Casey.”
His bright blue eyes twinkled. “Not with picking out presents for your brother,” he agreed, his voice hinting that there were a number of other things he was good at helping with.
Ellie’s cheeks pinkened and Casey bit back a fierce grin. It was nice to know he was at least capable of eliciting a blush from her. It meant she wasn’t completely unaffected by him.
“We’re sticking with presents for the moment,” she said firmly. “So are you really not going to help me?” she asked pitifully.
Casey heaved a sigh. “I guess I can’t say no when you’re giving me the Bambi eyes,” he grumbled, not relishing the idea of being on present duty for his irritating charge, but not altogether unhappy about being able to help out a distraught Ellie. After all, hadn’t he been trained to rescue the damsel in distress?
“You’re the best, John Casey!” Ellie squealed, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her in a much different way than she was hugging him. “You know, you could just make it easy on all of us and buy him a gun.” Because knowing that moron, he’d find a way to shoot himself with it.
Ellie stuck her tongue out at him. “Again with the no help.”
He shrugged as she stepped out of the home theater room and he followed. “Told you. It’s your own damn fault you wouldn’t listen.”
“You act like such a tough guy, but underneath I bet you’re a marshmallow,” Ellie teased, turning back around to face him. He smirked.
“Yeah, those ones that have been in the back of the cabinet for about five years and are hard as rock,” he retorted. She rolled her eyes and hugged him again.
“Thanks in advance, and be sure to call me as soon as you have an idea,” she said, waving at him and leaving the store.
Casey closed his eyes, cursing himself for being unable to say no to her ridiculous request. He’d just signed himself up for another headache, brought on yet again by Chuck Bartowski.
Turning, he swore again when he caught sight of a very wide-eyed Jeff and Lester at the Nerd Herd Desk. They opened their mouths simultaneously before he cut them off with a steely glare. “Either one of you says one word, and they’ll be finding pieces of you as far as the Hollywood Hills,” he growled. They wisely shut their mouths and scrambled to look busy.
Stalking back to his current post in Appliances, Casey glanced around to make sure he was alone before pulling out his cell phone and dialing an emergency number. For this one, he was going to need the big guns.
As soon as he heard the voice come on the line, he was in Major mode. “This is Casey,” he said brusquely. “I need your help.”