Reveille, Reveille [1/6], [T] Casey, Chuck - Spoilers: all seasons
Title: Reveille, Reveille
Rating: T
Characters: John Casey, Chuck Bartowski
Warnings: spoilers, language
Spoilers: all seasons
Genres: Gen, Friendship, Fluff, Humor
Chapters: 1/6
Completed: No
Word count: 816
Disclaimer: I wish, but no. ;_;
Notes: Credit to Lu for demanding Chuck fic of any kind and then flailing all over it.
Summary: Five times Casey woke Chuck up and one time he let him sleep.
1 2 3 4 5 6
1.
Casey knew they worked the kid hard.
Bartowski hadn't exactly been the kind of guy who worked out regularly for three or four (or more) hours a days before this whole thing started (unless you count thumbs, and, no, Casey doesn't.) A month wouldn't make that much difference, except to exhaust him while his body tried desperately to catch up and acclimate to the new demands being put upon it.
But that was no excuse for this. Falling asleep without even taking time to check that the security protocols are engaged would get him killed and the enemy wasn't going to take into consideration that he might be tired and come back later when he was awake. You wouldn't think that would be something they'd have to explicitly drill into his head after the way he and Casey and Walker officially met on a rooftop with guns and all, but obviously it was.
Casey reached across the table and slapped the curly mop so that it jerked sharply to the side.
Bartowski came awake and to his unsteady feet in a half-assed attempt to reproduce a karate pose he had to have seen in the movies. No way he learned that ridiculously noodle-armed stance from Walker and until she had him schooled in the basics, Casey wasn't even allowed in the gym with him. Walker was afraid Bartowski would beg Casey to teach him something and Casey would end up breaking him instead.
Which was ridiculous. Bruise him, maybe, but the motto "Bruise now or bleed later," existed for a reason.
A thought struck Casey and he tested his theory by leaning forward and blowing in the kid's direction.
It surprised only Bartowski when he flailed and went backward, tripping over his own damn feet. Casey just grunted and sneered in disgust.
"Casey?" Bartowski asked as he used the table to push to his feet once more. He still sounded half asleep and Casey couldn't help rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, Bartowski, it's me. Don't you have a bed at home?"
Bartowski's mouth worked like a landed goldfish and then he looked around in dismay, eyes scanning the mess of documents and pictures that have been liberally spread over the entire surface of the table.
He seemed to find what he was looking for because he--almost literally--leapt on it with an, "AHA!" and then held it up with that stupid grin on his face.
Casey rolled his eyes and said, "I don't have x-ray vision, Bartowski. You'll have to turn it around to share with the rest of the class."
Bartowski looked at the white back of the eight-by-ten and then flipped it around with a stammered apology.
Casey's eyes immediately locked on the picture and he was only half listening to Bartowski's babbled explanation of what he was doing when he flashed.
Casey couldn't care less. He just wanted to know where and his barked demand was quickly answered.
"So..." Bartowski said, sounding so young and hopeful, "this is good, right? I mean, obviously he isn't, he's a terrorist, and if he's here in America he might be planning something very, very bad, but me spotting him, that's good, right?"
Casey looked at Bartowski and wanted to tell him to go home and get some actual sleep, but he knew that the odds of that happening now were pretty slim. If they tried to leave him behind, he'd just follow them to the scene anyway and potentially screw it all up.
Besides, Casey had been hoping for a chance at this fucker for a long time, a hope he'd abandoned when he was assigned to Operation: Babysitter. So he was feeling generous and maybe-just maybe-they could keep Bartowski out of more trouble if they kept him close.
"Call Walker. Tell her to be on the street in five minutes, we'll pick her up and brief her on the way."
Bartowski's face lit up like Santa just delivered him an Easter basket and a birthday cake along with his early Christmas presents.
Casey rolled his eyes and headed for the armory to dress out and load up on his favorite toys.
The dressing down for falling asleep would come after they've bagged and tagged one more terrorist cockroach.
Next
Rating: T
Characters: John Casey, Chuck Bartowski
Warnings: spoilers, language
Spoilers: all seasons
Genres: Gen, Friendship, Fluff, Humor
Chapters: 1/6
Completed: No
Word count: 816
Disclaimer: I wish, but no. ;_;
Notes: Credit to Lu for demanding Chuck fic of any kind and then flailing all over it.
Summary: Five times Casey woke Chuck up and one time he let him sleep.
1 2 3 4 5 6
1.
Casey knew they worked the kid hard.
Bartowski hadn't exactly been the kind of guy who worked out regularly for three or four (or more) hours a days before this whole thing started (unless you count thumbs, and, no, Casey doesn't.) A month wouldn't make that much difference, except to exhaust him while his body tried desperately to catch up and acclimate to the new demands being put upon it.
But that was no excuse for this. Falling asleep without even taking time to check that the security protocols are engaged would get him killed and the enemy wasn't going to take into consideration that he might be tired and come back later when he was awake. You wouldn't think that would be something they'd have to explicitly drill into his head after the way he and Casey and Walker officially met on a rooftop with guns and all, but obviously it was.
Casey reached across the table and slapped the curly mop so that it jerked sharply to the side.
Bartowski came awake and to his unsteady feet in a half-assed attempt to reproduce a karate pose he had to have seen in the movies. No way he learned that ridiculously noodle-armed stance from Walker and until she had him schooled in the basics, Casey wasn't even allowed in the gym with him. Walker was afraid Bartowski would beg Casey to teach him something and Casey would end up breaking him instead.
Which was ridiculous. Bruise him, maybe, but the motto "Bruise now or bleed later," existed for a reason.
A thought struck Casey and he tested his theory by leaning forward and blowing in the kid's direction.
It surprised only Bartowski when he flailed and went backward, tripping over his own damn feet. Casey just grunted and sneered in disgust.
"Casey?" Bartowski asked as he used the table to push to his feet once more. He still sounded half asleep and Casey couldn't help rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, Bartowski, it's me. Don't you have a bed at home?"
Bartowski's mouth worked like a landed goldfish and then he looked around in dismay, eyes scanning the mess of documents and pictures that have been liberally spread over the entire surface of the table.
He seemed to find what he was looking for because he--almost literally--leapt on it with an, "AHA!" and then held it up with that stupid grin on his face.
Casey rolled his eyes and said, "I don't have x-ray vision, Bartowski. You'll have to turn it around to share with the rest of the class."
Bartowski looked at the white back of the eight-by-ten and then flipped it around with a stammered apology.
Casey's eyes immediately locked on the picture and he was only half listening to Bartowski's babbled explanation of what he was doing when he flashed.
Casey couldn't care less. He just wanted to know where and his barked demand was quickly answered.
"So..." Bartowski said, sounding so young and hopeful, "this is good, right? I mean, obviously he isn't, he's a terrorist, and if he's here in America he might be planning something very, very bad, but me spotting him, that's good, right?"
Casey looked at Bartowski and wanted to tell him to go home and get some actual sleep, but he knew that the odds of that happening now were pretty slim. If they tried to leave him behind, he'd just follow them to the scene anyway and potentially screw it all up.
Besides, Casey had been hoping for a chance at this fucker for a long time, a hope he'd abandoned when he was assigned to Operation: Babysitter. So he was feeling generous and maybe-just maybe-they could keep Bartowski out of more trouble if they kept him close.
"Call Walker. Tell her to be on the street in five minutes, we'll pick her up and brief her on the way."
Bartowski's face lit up like Santa just delivered him an Easter basket and a birthday cake along with his early Christmas presents.
Casey rolled his eyes and headed for the armory to dress out and load up on his favorite toys.
The dressing down for falling asleep would come after they've bagged and tagged one more terrorist cockroach.
Next