Chuck Versus the Green-Eyed Monster (24/?)
Title: Chuck Versus the Green-Eyed Monster
Characters: Sam, Chuck, Sarah, Casey, "Colonel Andrews"
Author's note: Yep, still evil.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23
Chuck jumped to his feet, hands out, as soon as he heard Sarah yell. "Nononono! Don't shoot!"
"Chuck, get out of the way."
Chuck shook his head. "No, Sarah, no, listen. I know it sounds completely nuts, but I don't think Sam's the bad guy here."
Sarah lowered her gun about a half an inch and gave Chuck a sympathetic -- and rather pitying, actually -- look. "Chuck, I know this is hard. Especially right after what happened to Jill. But Sam is a fugitive, and we have to bring him in."
Chuck glanced back towards Sam, who's eyes were rolled towards the sky, his hands folded almost casually behind his head. He looked almost . . . bored.
"Okay, I know you think that. And it seems logical, but it's not, okay? If you really look at all the evidence, it's not as cut and dry as the FBI want to think." Chuck racked his brain for a good example, hands shaking in the air as he continued to stand between his girlfriend -- fake girlfriend -- and his old college buddy. "Diane Ballard!"
Sarah frowned, and her gun lowered another half inch.
"Uh huh?" Chuck nodded quickly. "Ya see? You read the file as much as I did. Diane Ballard of the Baltimore PD. Swears up and down the Winchesters saved her life and helped her put her corrupt partner in jail. Would serial killers do that?"
Sarah sighed, lowering her gun the rest of the way. "If they're innocent then we'll work that out in court, Chuck. He's still got to go to jail."
Chuck heard Sam sigh heavily, and saw him slowly stand up in his peripheral vision.
That wasn't the only thing he noticed in his peripheral vision.
"Casey, no!"
Chuck leaped. Sam dropped to the ground. Sarah raised her gun again. The soft *ptew!* of a silenced shot puffed through the courtyard. Chuck wondered why the hell the rest of his neighbors didn't think he was in some sort of gang or something by now.
Or maybe they did. Mrs. Pendleton had been being strangely nice to him, of late. . . .
That wasn't the point. The point was --
"Sam? Sam! Are you okay?"
Sam raised his head a few inches off the ground and glared into the shadows where Casey was lurking. "I'm fine." Chuck spun.
"Dammit, Casey, stop shooting at people."
Casey stepped out of the shadows, gun held at ready and trained on Sam, who stayed on the ground and eyed the other man warily. "You wanna say that a little louder, Bartowski? I'm not sure Mrs. Pendleton caught all that."
"I'm not the one opening fire in the middle of the courtyard."
"I've got a silencer," Casey said, voice the perfect pillar of innocence. "Now move out of the way. I'm gonna make sure this guy can't get away from us, this time."
Time seemed to slow down as Casey centered his aim on Sam's back. Chuck stepped forward, but Sarah caught his arm with a quick shake of her head. Sam's eyes went wide, his hands raised up a few inches over his head, his body tense. Casey's finger tightened on the trigger.
The gun flew out of Casey's hand.
Oooookay.
Casey immediately snapped into movement, groping for his flying gun and spinning as though to see who had jerked his arm or whatever to disarm him. He came face to face with a tired looking man in a tan trenchcoat and blue suit and suddenly straightened, his shoulders rolling back and his arm jerking halfway up in an automatic salute.
"Colonel Andrews."
The man in the trench coat just looked blankly at him, betraying not a hint of recognition or emotion.
Sam pushed himself into a crouch, his own eyes as wide as Casey's, his expression almost identical, but with fear winning out over the admiration and surprise. "Castiel."
And the images started flashing before Chuck's eyes.
continued in part 25
Characters: Sam, Chuck, Sarah, Casey, "Colonel Andrews"
Author's note: Yep, still evil.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23
Chuck jumped to his feet, hands out, as soon as he heard Sarah yell. "Nononono! Don't shoot!"
"Chuck, get out of the way."
Chuck shook his head. "No, Sarah, no, listen. I know it sounds completely nuts, but I don't think Sam's the bad guy here."
Sarah lowered her gun about a half an inch and gave Chuck a sympathetic -- and rather pitying, actually -- look. "Chuck, I know this is hard. Especially right after what happened to Jill. But Sam is a fugitive, and we have to bring him in."
Chuck glanced back towards Sam, who's eyes were rolled towards the sky, his hands folded almost casually behind his head. He looked almost . . . bored.
"Okay, I know you think that. And it seems logical, but it's not, okay? If you really look at all the evidence, it's not as cut and dry as the FBI want to think." Chuck racked his brain for a good example, hands shaking in the air as he continued to stand between his girlfriend -- fake girlfriend -- and his old college buddy. "Diane Ballard!"
Sarah frowned, and her gun lowered another half inch.
"Uh huh?" Chuck nodded quickly. "Ya see? You read the file as much as I did. Diane Ballard of the Baltimore PD. Swears up and down the Winchesters saved her life and helped her put her corrupt partner in jail. Would serial killers do that?"
Sarah sighed, lowering her gun the rest of the way. "If they're innocent then we'll work that out in court, Chuck. He's still got to go to jail."
Chuck heard Sam sigh heavily, and saw him slowly stand up in his peripheral vision.
That wasn't the only thing he noticed in his peripheral vision.
"Casey, no!"
Chuck leaped. Sam dropped to the ground. Sarah raised her gun again. The soft *ptew!* of a silenced shot puffed through the courtyard. Chuck wondered why the hell the rest of his neighbors didn't think he was in some sort of gang or something by now.
Or maybe they did. Mrs. Pendleton had been being strangely nice to him, of late. . . .
That wasn't the point. The point was --
"Sam? Sam! Are you okay?"
Sam raised his head a few inches off the ground and glared into the shadows where Casey was lurking. "I'm fine." Chuck spun.
"Dammit, Casey, stop shooting at people."
Casey stepped out of the shadows, gun held at ready and trained on Sam, who stayed on the ground and eyed the other man warily. "You wanna say that a little louder, Bartowski? I'm not sure Mrs. Pendleton caught all that."
"I'm not the one opening fire in the middle of the courtyard."
"I've got a silencer," Casey said, voice the perfect pillar of innocence. "Now move out of the way. I'm gonna make sure this guy can't get away from us, this time."
Time seemed to slow down as Casey centered his aim on Sam's back. Chuck stepped forward, but Sarah caught his arm with a quick shake of her head. Sam's eyes went wide, his hands raised up a few inches over his head, his body tense. Casey's finger tightened on the trigger.
The gun flew out of Casey's hand.
Oooookay.
Casey immediately snapped into movement, groping for his flying gun and spinning as though to see who had jerked his arm or whatever to disarm him. He came face to face with a tired looking man in a tan trenchcoat and blue suit and suddenly straightened, his shoulders rolling back and his arm jerking halfway up in an automatic salute.
"Colonel Andrews."
The man in the trench coat just looked blankly at him, betraying not a hint of recognition or emotion.
Sam pushed himself into a crouch, his own eyes as wide as Casey's, his expression almost identical, but with fear winning out over the admiration and surprise. "Castiel."
And the images started flashing before Chuck's eyes.
continued in part 25