Chuck Versus the Green-Eyed Monster (6/?)
I just keep posting this earlier every day, don't I.
Title: Chuck Versus the Green-Eyed Monster
Characters: Chuck, Dean, Anna, Casey
Author's note: *evil grin*
All other header information can be found in part one.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Chuck had managed to manufacture a pinwheel out of a piece of yellow paper marked "TOP SECRET", a paper clip, and a broken number 3 pencil. He spun it with one finger while watching Sarah and Sam talk.
He was totally gonna have to learn to read lips.
* * *
Casey stepped up behind Anna and set his hand on her shoulder, in a move that would have made Lester, Jeff, or Morgan piss themselves. He kept his eyes locked on Winchester, who seemed about as completely unimpressed by Casey's imposing presence as Anna herself was.
"I'll take this one, Anna."
Anna snorted. "Good. This isn't my job." She shrugged off his hand and sauntered off. Casey noted that Winchester's eyes followed her every. Step. Of the way.
"Hey. Dirtbag." He snapped his fingers in front of Winchester's face. "Eyes up here."
Winchester looked up, looking bored. "Way to spoil a man's view, dude. You gonna give me my refund?"
"No." Casey smirked. "The camcorder I sold you, Mr. . . . Emerson, did not look like this."
Winchester grinned. "Well, I admit it doesn't match the pictures on the box, but then again, the box doesn't mention the special lojack function, either, so I gotta figure you sold me the wrong product."
Casey grit his teeth, wishing there were a few less other customers around so he could break his cover and beat this smug psycho son of a bitch to a pulp. "If you'll step into our demonstration room, I'll be happy to take care of this for you."
Winchester snorted, opening his mouth to probably make some sort of snide remark about Casey wanting to get him alone with him -- serial killers were all complete smart asses -- and instead frowned and nodded over Casey's shoulder.
"What's up with your computers?"
Casey snorted. "Nice try," he said, stepping out from behind the counter so he could herd Winchester towards a more private area. Winchester ignored him completely, turning in a slow circle, his expression growing more and more concerned. Casey tensed. If the guy was going to pull some sort of psycho bullshit outta his ass, he was going to have to be --
He noticed a low hum start up around the store. Concerned customers. Worried people. He finally tore his eyes off Winchester and looked around.
Every single display monitor in the store, from the laptops to the televisions to the little tiny screens on the cameras and phones, was broadcasting flickering static.
"That's great," Winchester was saying. The lights started flickering. "Just great. Can't I ever have a day off?!"
"Nope," said another voice.
And that's when things got weird.
continued in part seven
Title: Chuck Versus the Green-Eyed Monster
Characters: Chuck, Dean, Anna, Casey
Author's note: *evil grin*
All other header information can be found in part one.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Chuck had managed to manufacture a pinwheel out of a piece of yellow paper marked "TOP SECRET", a paper clip, and a broken number 3 pencil. He spun it with one finger while watching Sarah and Sam talk.
He was totally gonna have to learn to read lips.
* * *
Casey stepped up behind Anna and set his hand on her shoulder, in a move that would have made Lester, Jeff, or Morgan piss themselves. He kept his eyes locked on Winchester, who seemed about as completely unimpressed by Casey's imposing presence as Anna herself was.
"I'll take this one, Anna."
Anna snorted. "Good. This isn't my job." She shrugged off his hand and sauntered off. Casey noted that Winchester's eyes followed her every. Step. Of the way.
"Hey. Dirtbag." He snapped his fingers in front of Winchester's face. "Eyes up here."
Winchester looked up, looking bored. "Way to spoil a man's view, dude. You gonna give me my refund?"
"No." Casey smirked. "The camcorder I sold you, Mr. . . . Emerson, did not look like this."
Winchester grinned. "Well, I admit it doesn't match the pictures on the box, but then again, the box doesn't mention the special lojack function, either, so I gotta figure you sold me the wrong product."
Casey grit his teeth, wishing there were a few less other customers around so he could break his cover and beat this smug psycho son of a bitch to a pulp. "If you'll step into our demonstration room, I'll be happy to take care of this for you."
Winchester snorted, opening his mouth to probably make some sort of snide remark about Casey wanting to get him alone with him -- serial killers were all complete smart asses -- and instead frowned and nodded over Casey's shoulder.
"What's up with your computers?"
Casey snorted. "Nice try," he said, stepping out from behind the counter so he could herd Winchester towards a more private area. Winchester ignored him completely, turning in a slow circle, his expression growing more and more concerned. Casey tensed. If the guy was going to pull some sort of psycho bullshit outta his ass, he was going to have to be --
He noticed a low hum start up around the store. Concerned customers. Worried people. He finally tore his eyes off Winchester and looked around.
Every single display monitor in the store, from the laptops to the televisions to the little tiny screens on the cameras and phones, was broadcasting flickering static.
"That's great," Winchester was saying. The lights started flickering. "Just great. Can't I ever have a day off?!"
"Nope," said another voice.
And that's when things got weird.
continued in part seven