Reveille, Reveille [2/6], [T] Casey, Chuck - Spoilers: all seasons
Title: Reveille, Reveille
Rating: T
Characters: John Casey, Chuck Bartowski
Warnings: Spoilers
Spoilers: all seasons
Genres: Gen, Friendship, Fluff, Humor
Chapters: 2/6
Completed: No
Word count: 810
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
2.
Casey still couldn't believe they forgot the telescopic camera lens, but he was grateful all the same for the chance it gave him to get out of the van long enough to repress the urge to snap Bartowski's neck just to get some damn peace and quiet for five fucking seconds.
Maybe Walker did it on purpose because she knew he'd want an excuse. She wasn't all that eager to leave and go get it, after all, despite it being an integral part of their surveillance of Louis Montparte's operation.
Although that didn't explain why when he got back Walker was nowhere to be seen and the asset they were responsible for was curled up in the back of the van fast asleep on a nest of flak vests and windbreakers with various official acronyms on the back.
"Hey!" Casey barked and slapped the foot nearest to him.
Mount Bartowski exploded with a shout of surprise and a hail of weather-resistant nylon.
Casey pulled the jacket that landed on his head off and threw it back at the blinking Bartowski who reflexively caught it and clutched it to his chest.
Well at least their work with catching potential explosives was taking hold, it seemed.
Casey climbed into the van and shut the doors, then stalked past Bartowski on the way to his chair.
"Where's Walker?"
"Um..." Bartowski gaped stupidly for a few seconds. "Bathroom?" he finally offered.
Casey rolled his eyes, replaced his headset, and keyed the mic. "Walker, what's your position?"
There was no response and Casey's eyes narrowed as he searched the monitors. Behind him, Bartowski had regained his feet and was now moving into his personal space to loom unmenacingly over his shoulder.
"I swear, she just left five minutes ago," he said, sounding increasingly worried.
He reached past Casey, ignoring the glare and snarl he got, and keyed the mic. "Sarah? Sarah, where are you? Come in please, uh, over?"
Casey slapped his hand and stared him down until he retreated to the other chair.
"I swear, Casey, we haven't seen anything at all from Louis' men. She should have been perfectly safe."
"Yeah, well, if you hadn't been taking a cat-nap in the gear, there, you would have remained in contact and been sure she was safe. Now I have to go in there and-"
"Chuck? Casey?"
Bartowski's sigh of relief and exhaled prayer of gratitude were the first response to the hail.
Casey just turned back to the radio and keyed up again. "You alright? Bartowski was too busy getting beauty sleep to keep an eye on you," he said with one more glare for the kid who shrank back and looked like a puppy who'd left a mess on the rug and knew it was wrong, but wanted forgiveness anyway.
Casey rolled his eyes and cursed the day he was given the assignment to eliminate one Charles Bartowski-or, more specifically, the day that order was rescinded and replaced with one to keep him alive at all costs.
"Well we've been doing late surveillance all week," Walker said, defending the kid. Of course. "And then he's had early shifts at the Buy More. Give him a break, Casey. Not all of us are ex-Marines."
"None of us are ex-Marines," Casey replied. "There's no such thing as an 'ex-Marine' once you've been in, and you and Bartowski never were in."
"Whatever, Casey. The point is, cut him some slack. I was just in the bathroom-like I told Chuck-and I wasn't alone. I wasn't going to be caught talking to myself in a bathroom stall."
“Pretend you're on the phone.”
“Or I can just wait until I'm out of the bathroom and answer you then.”
The back doors of the van opened and she climbed inside and arched an eyebrow at Casey who curled a lip. "Fine. You don't mind him sleeping when he's supposed to be watching your six, that's your problem. But if I ever catch him sleeping while he's supposed to be watching mine..." He left the threat open and just glared at Bartowski.
Who audibly gulped and babbled that he would never do that and he valued his life too much, thanks.
"Great," Walker said with a falsely bright smile. "Now can we get back to the surveillance?"
Casey grunted and turned back to his radio while Bartowski vacated the seat for Walker and continued to talk and talk and talk about how sorry he was and how he really didn't think and next time he would stay awake it was just that he'd had a long day...
Walker patted his head and held his paw and told him he was a good puppy and she wasn't mad about the rug, it was ugly anyway.
Casey plugged in and put on the sound-canceling headphones with a sneer.
If Monteparte didn't make a move tonight, he was calling up his old unit and going in there tomorrow, warrant or no warrant.
Next
Rating: T
Characters: John Casey, Chuck Bartowski
Warnings: Spoilers
Spoilers: all seasons
Genres: Gen, Friendship, Fluff, Humor
Chapters: 2/6
Completed: No
Word count: 810
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
2.
Casey still couldn't believe they forgot the telescopic camera lens, but he was grateful all the same for the chance it gave him to get out of the van long enough to repress the urge to snap Bartowski's neck just to get some damn peace and quiet for five fucking seconds.
Maybe Walker did it on purpose because she knew he'd want an excuse. She wasn't all that eager to leave and go get it, after all, despite it being an integral part of their surveillance of Louis Montparte's operation.
Although that didn't explain why when he got back Walker was nowhere to be seen and the asset they were responsible for was curled up in the back of the van fast asleep on a nest of flak vests and windbreakers with various official acronyms on the back.
"Hey!" Casey barked and slapped the foot nearest to him.
Mount Bartowski exploded with a shout of surprise and a hail of weather-resistant nylon.
Casey pulled the jacket that landed on his head off and threw it back at the blinking Bartowski who reflexively caught it and clutched it to his chest.
Well at least their work with catching potential explosives was taking hold, it seemed.
Casey climbed into the van and shut the doors, then stalked past Bartowski on the way to his chair.
"Where's Walker?"
"Um..." Bartowski gaped stupidly for a few seconds. "Bathroom?" he finally offered.
Casey rolled his eyes, replaced his headset, and keyed the mic. "Walker, what's your position?"
There was no response and Casey's eyes narrowed as he searched the monitors. Behind him, Bartowski had regained his feet and was now moving into his personal space to loom unmenacingly over his shoulder.
"I swear, she just left five minutes ago," he said, sounding increasingly worried.
He reached past Casey, ignoring the glare and snarl he got, and keyed the mic. "Sarah? Sarah, where are you? Come in please, uh, over?"
Casey slapped his hand and stared him down until he retreated to the other chair.
"I swear, Casey, we haven't seen anything at all from Louis' men. She should have been perfectly safe."
"Yeah, well, if you hadn't been taking a cat-nap in the gear, there, you would have remained in contact and been sure she was safe. Now I have to go in there and-"
"Chuck? Casey?"
Bartowski's sigh of relief and exhaled prayer of gratitude were the first response to the hail.
Casey just turned back to the radio and keyed up again. "You alright? Bartowski was too busy getting beauty sleep to keep an eye on you," he said with one more glare for the kid who shrank back and looked like a puppy who'd left a mess on the rug and knew it was wrong, but wanted forgiveness anyway.
Casey rolled his eyes and cursed the day he was given the assignment to eliminate one Charles Bartowski-or, more specifically, the day that order was rescinded and replaced with one to keep him alive at all costs.
"Well we've been doing late surveillance all week," Walker said, defending the kid. Of course. "And then he's had early shifts at the Buy More. Give him a break, Casey. Not all of us are ex-Marines."
"None of us are ex-Marines," Casey replied. "There's no such thing as an 'ex-Marine' once you've been in, and you and Bartowski never were in."
"Whatever, Casey. The point is, cut him some slack. I was just in the bathroom-like I told Chuck-and I wasn't alone. I wasn't going to be caught talking to myself in a bathroom stall."
“Pretend you're on the phone.”
“Or I can just wait until I'm out of the bathroom and answer you then.”
The back doors of the van opened and she climbed inside and arched an eyebrow at Casey who curled a lip. "Fine. You don't mind him sleeping when he's supposed to be watching your six, that's your problem. But if I ever catch him sleeping while he's supposed to be watching mine..." He left the threat open and just glared at Bartowski.
Who audibly gulped and babbled that he would never do that and he valued his life too much, thanks.
"Great," Walker said with a falsely bright smile. "Now can we get back to the surveillance?"
Casey grunted and turned back to his radio while Bartowski vacated the seat for Walker and continued to talk and talk and talk about how sorry he was and how he really didn't think and next time he would stay awake it was just that he'd had a long day...
Walker patted his head and held his paw and told him he was a good puppy and she wasn't mad about the rug, it was ugly anyway.
Casey plugged in and put on the sound-canceling headphones with a sneer.
If Monteparte didn't make a move tonight, he was calling up his old unit and going in there tomorrow, warrant or no warrant.
Next