All of the things that led to us
Title: All of the things that led to us
Author: Bookaddict
Characters: Casey/Chuck
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Chuck and all related characters are the property of NBC
Word count: 1283
Warnings: Character death
Comment: I actually finished something!! *dances* Thanks to the awesome evilmaniclaugh for being my beta and who assured me my fic was good enough to post *hugs her tight*. The story is an amalgam of about 3 prompts which I’ve been trying to write forever :) 1. The first time he kissed the kid he told himself it was just to shut him up smallfandomfest. 2. Prompt #55 non-Chuck quotes for the chuck_slash icon ficathon and 3. Prompt #133: mute at writers_choice. It’s also my first ever Chuck/Casey and second person POV.
My icon prompt by skinless_potato
There’s a slight hitch to the steady beat of the monitor; you hear it even from across the hall and instantly you’re on alert. Everyone in the room tenses and the nurse half rises from the desk. But the beat resumes and you settle back into your corner to wait for the steady parade of well-wishers to disappear for the night.
You’ve been in the parade yourself, making the obligatory visits in order to maintain your cover. You stand there and hover like they all do and listen to Morgan trying to convince himself that everything is going to be alright. That pales pretty quickly though and knowing that none of them expect you to stay long, you retreat in good order and hover in the hallway instead.
You fade into the surrounds and you’re obscurely pleased that your skills haven’t deserted you yet; as thank god, not one of your fellow visitors has noticed that you haven’t left the building. You can’t leave. Not for any length of time anyway, and that’s not something any of them will ever understand.
It’s Woodcombe, Jock Doc is your private name for him, who seems to know where you’re coming from. He doesn’t say anything to you directly; just claps you on the shoulder, ignores your almost constant presence and even runs interference for you. Twice now he’s sent the General’s delivery boys off on a tangent and he’s made it known to the staff that you can visit Chuck any time.
The general, who was never comfortable with the human nature of the Intersect, is now bemoaning its loss and making plans for your next assignment. But it makes no impact on you because you’re not going. Oh, you pay lip service to her plans by finishing reports and clearing out the Castle. You’ve resigned from the Buy More and given notice at the apartment complex; packing has been started and the bonsai tree is freshly trimmed. But everything is in a holding pattern. Your world can’t turn till Chuck opens his lips and starts talking to you.
And isn’t that ironic? You’ve spent so long fantasising about how nice it would be if Chuck would just stop his incessant babbling and now you’re standing here waiting and hoping for that mobile mouth to start moving. Of course you’re not insane enough to want him to talk too much. You’d rather he was kissing you…
The first time you kiss him, you tell yourself it’s just to shut him up. You’ve tried everything else…literally. You’ve insulted him, growled at him and barcoded his mouth shut. But still Chuck babbles. The words flow from him like a brook. To someone who likes silence and calm and prefers clear, concise conversation, the geek waffling is a source of frustration. Since you can’t shoot (and sometimes you are so tempted), or intimidate him; seduction seems like a viable alternative. You wait for the moment when the babble rises to truly epic proportions and you zero in. Chuck doesn’t have a chance as you misdirect and bamboozle him, your lips descending on his in a perfectly calculated kiss.
It doesn’t work the way you intended though, because the only person Chuck stops babbling to is you.
Never stupid, no matter how much you call him a moron, he retaliates. You’re treated to many a pointless conversation over the headphones. He mutters to Morgan pointedly and chats with Jeff and Lester. He shares conversation with Ellie and Awesome and talks shop and other things with Walker. He talks at you occasionally when the mission requires it, but real conversation is at minimum and he regards you more even more warily than he did before.
Unwilling to endanger the mission any further you back off and regroup, leaving him the field for the time being. You play the aloof spy to perfection and Chuck’s coming around slowly and starting to include you in the babble again, when you go out on assignment and he gets kidnapped.
The thought of what could be happening to him puts you in a killing mood, and there’s not much left of the opposition when you reach him before the remaining bad guys do more than rumple his clothes. You rumple them instead by trapping him up against the wall and grinding against him. There’s no thought behind this kiss - its teeth clashing with teeth, tongues struggling for domination and lips mashing together violently. Your body is hard against his as you try to reinforce your orders to… Just.Stay.In.The. Car.
You ignore the fact that Chuck kissed you back, giving as good as he got and tell yourself that it was just the adrenaline talking: that your fury is because your mission was compromised and the asset was endangered…and you almost believe it.
Until the next time, when he comes to comfort you.
You can’t even remember now what hit you so hard that your belly cramped and the bile rose in your throat. All that sticks in your brain is that Chuck turned up at your door, sizzling shrimp and scotch bottle in hand. He talks to you of course, the man couldn’t be silent for any length of time, but you know he’s trying to help. He sits down beside you and that long skinny arm is flung around your shoulders, just like you’ve seen him do with Ellie, Morgan and god forbid even Jeff, and the prattle this time is soothing. You hardly take in the words, but for once in your life you relax. You find yourself resting your head on his shoulder and feel his lips on your hair.
That gives you pause and you sit up and look into his eyes…and you know you’re lost. Not just compromised, but lost. Any pretence of ‘he’s my asset’ has gone out the window and you don’t care.
Chuck seizes your lips, or you seize his, you’re not sure which and when he opens his mouth you take every advantage and suck on his tongue as if your life depends on it. Moaning, he tries to pull you impossibly closer and you can’t do anything but take him to your bed.
Even now he babbles. But the litany of words are all about need and want and as he calls your name you smother his lips with yours and swallow the feeling of home.
Neither of you discuss it later, and although you have no idea why Chuck isn’t talking the subject to death (he talks about everything else, just not this whatever this is) - you know why you aren’t. You don’t because this is not somewhere you’ve been before. The closest you got to this feeling was with Ilsa, and look how that turned out. There’s no way you’ll jeopardise Chuck’s life and emotions; the two are one and the same with him, for everything.
So you go along with him when he keeps coming back to you. You make room for him in your bed and ensure, over and over, that he’s satisfied. You’re binding him to you and yourself to him, ‘though you never realised until it was too late that that could devastate you. All your concentration is on keeping him with you until one or both of you can say what you need. But you never get the chance, and instead spend all your time at Chuck’s bedside willing him to come back.
But Chuck is still mute and as you sit and trace his lips with your thumb you know, from Devon’s silence and the unshed tears in Ellie’s eyes that he’s not going to wake up again…and you think that you probably won’t either.
Continued after a fashion in As the sparks fly upward.
Author: Bookaddict
Characters: Casey/Chuck
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Chuck and all related characters are the property of NBC
Word count: 1283
Warnings: Character death
Comment: I actually finished something!! *dances* Thanks to the awesome evilmaniclaugh for being my beta and who assured me my fic was good enough to post *hugs her tight*. The story is an amalgam of about 3 prompts which I’ve been trying to write forever :) 1. The first time he kissed the kid he told himself it was just to shut him up smallfandomfest. 2. Prompt #55 non-Chuck quotes for the chuck_slash icon ficathon and 3. Prompt #133: mute at writers_choice. It’s also my first ever Chuck/Casey and second person POV.
My icon prompt by skinless_potato
There’s a slight hitch to the steady beat of the monitor; you hear it even from across the hall and instantly you’re on alert. Everyone in the room tenses and the nurse half rises from the desk. But the beat resumes and you settle back into your corner to wait for the steady parade of well-wishers to disappear for the night.
You’ve been in the parade yourself, making the obligatory visits in order to maintain your cover. You stand there and hover like they all do and listen to Morgan trying to convince himself that everything is going to be alright. That pales pretty quickly though and knowing that none of them expect you to stay long, you retreat in good order and hover in the hallway instead.
You fade into the surrounds and you’re obscurely pleased that your skills haven’t deserted you yet; as thank god, not one of your fellow visitors has noticed that you haven’t left the building. You can’t leave. Not for any length of time anyway, and that’s not something any of them will ever understand.
It’s Woodcombe, Jock Doc is your private name for him, who seems to know where you’re coming from. He doesn’t say anything to you directly; just claps you on the shoulder, ignores your almost constant presence and even runs interference for you. Twice now he’s sent the General’s delivery boys off on a tangent and he’s made it known to the staff that you can visit Chuck any time.
The general, who was never comfortable with the human nature of the Intersect, is now bemoaning its loss and making plans for your next assignment. But it makes no impact on you because you’re not going. Oh, you pay lip service to her plans by finishing reports and clearing out the Castle. You’ve resigned from the Buy More and given notice at the apartment complex; packing has been started and the bonsai tree is freshly trimmed. But everything is in a holding pattern. Your world can’t turn till Chuck opens his lips and starts talking to you.
And isn’t that ironic? You’ve spent so long fantasising about how nice it would be if Chuck would just stop his incessant babbling and now you’re standing here waiting and hoping for that mobile mouth to start moving. Of course you’re not insane enough to want him to talk too much. You’d rather he was kissing you…
The first time you kiss him, you tell yourself it’s just to shut him up. You’ve tried everything else…literally. You’ve insulted him, growled at him and barcoded his mouth shut. But still Chuck babbles. The words flow from him like a brook. To someone who likes silence and calm and prefers clear, concise conversation, the geek waffling is a source of frustration. Since you can’t shoot (and sometimes you are so tempted), or intimidate him; seduction seems like a viable alternative. You wait for the moment when the babble rises to truly epic proportions and you zero in. Chuck doesn’t have a chance as you misdirect and bamboozle him, your lips descending on his in a perfectly calculated kiss.
It doesn’t work the way you intended though, because the only person Chuck stops babbling to is you.
Never stupid, no matter how much you call him a moron, he retaliates. You’re treated to many a pointless conversation over the headphones. He mutters to Morgan pointedly and chats with Jeff and Lester. He shares conversation with Ellie and Awesome and talks shop and other things with Walker. He talks at you occasionally when the mission requires it, but real conversation is at minimum and he regards you more even more warily than he did before.
Unwilling to endanger the mission any further you back off and regroup, leaving him the field for the time being. You play the aloof spy to perfection and Chuck’s coming around slowly and starting to include you in the babble again, when you go out on assignment and he gets kidnapped.
The thought of what could be happening to him puts you in a killing mood, and there’s not much left of the opposition when you reach him before the remaining bad guys do more than rumple his clothes. You rumple them instead by trapping him up against the wall and grinding against him. There’s no thought behind this kiss - its teeth clashing with teeth, tongues struggling for domination and lips mashing together violently. Your body is hard against his as you try to reinforce your orders to… Just.Stay.In.The. Car.
You ignore the fact that Chuck kissed you back, giving as good as he got and tell yourself that it was just the adrenaline talking: that your fury is because your mission was compromised and the asset was endangered…and you almost believe it.
Until the next time, when he comes to comfort you.
You can’t even remember now what hit you so hard that your belly cramped and the bile rose in your throat. All that sticks in your brain is that Chuck turned up at your door, sizzling shrimp and scotch bottle in hand. He talks to you of course, the man couldn’t be silent for any length of time, but you know he’s trying to help. He sits down beside you and that long skinny arm is flung around your shoulders, just like you’ve seen him do with Ellie, Morgan and god forbid even Jeff, and the prattle this time is soothing. You hardly take in the words, but for once in your life you relax. You find yourself resting your head on his shoulder and feel his lips on your hair.
That gives you pause and you sit up and look into his eyes…and you know you’re lost. Not just compromised, but lost. Any pretence of ‘he’s my asset’ has gone out the window and you don’t care.
Chuck seizes your lips, or you seize his, you’re not sure which and when he opens his mouth you take every advantage and suck on his tongue as if your life depends on it. Moaning, he tries to pull you impossibly closer and you can’t do anything but take him to your bed.
Even now he babbles. But the litany of words are all about need and want and as he calls your name you smother his lips with yours and swallow the feeling of home.
Neither of you discuss it later, and although you have no idea why Chuck isn’t talking the subject to death (he talks about everything else, just not this whatever this is) - you know why you aren’t. You don’t because this is not somewhere you’ve been before. The closest you got to this feeling was with Ilsa, and look how that turned out. There’s no way you’ll jeopardise Chuck’s life and emotions; the two are one and the same with him, for everything.
So you go along with him when he keeps coming back to you. You make room for him in your bed and ensure, over and over, that he’s satisfied. You’re binding him to you and yourself to him, ‘though you never realised until it was too late that that could devastate you. All your concentration is on keeping him with you until one or both of you can say what you need. But you never get the chance, and instead spend all your time at Chuck’s bedside willing him to come back.
But Chuck is still mute and as you sit and trace his lips with your thumb you know, from Devon’s silence and the unshed tears in Ellie’s eyes that he’s not going to wake up again…and you think that you probably won’t either.
Continued after a fashion in As the sparks fly upward.