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Ficathon - Chuck/Casey



Prompt by neversince

“So tell me, John, how does that make you feel?” The older man appeared to be focusing entirely on Casey, who responded with the harshest glare he could muster, aimed simultaneously at the calm psychiatrist and a grinning Chuck.

“I feel,” he enunciated harshly, “like Bartowski doesn’t have enough respect to take care around my stuff.”

A quiet thump from overhead made three heads raise, and Chuck saw Casey’s hand sneak around the back of his waist for the tranquilisers he knew were hidden there. First sign Sarah might be discovered, he had declared, he was tranqing Dr. Shepherd, no matter what Chuck had said about guns on his missions. Casey was just sour because his shoulders were too wide for the air vents, so he and Chuck got to play distraction.

“See what he does? He won’t even call me by name in public! He’s ashamed just to be seen with me.”

“Damn straight.” Casey muttered, and the doctor’s attention was immediately drawn back to them.

“I accidentally put a tiny little scratch in his car, and suddenly, ‘This is why we can’t have nice things’ he says. ‘This is why you don’t get to use the remote’.”

“A tiny little scratch?” Casey stood up, forgetting his persona for a moment. “You destroyed my dream car!”

“The problem I see here is that you, John, have no trust in Chuck. You feel that Chuck isn’t careful enough with your belongings, and fear that that will extend to your feelings.” Chuck was fighting back sniggers at the pathetic attempt Casey was making to hide his disgust at Dr. Shepherd’s prognosis. “And you, Chuck, are hurt by the way John is pushing you away. Instead of sharing this with him, you are just trying to get closer, which is an admirable goal, but is merely increasing his fears.”

Chuck’s urge to laugh abruptly disappeared, as Casey started to smirk in his direction.

“Do either of you have any ideas of how to remedy this situation?”

Silence spread throughout the room, and Chuck barely managed to fight the urge to check his watch. Sarah had said she’d finish in twenty minutes or so, watching the hands torturously make their way around minute by minute wouldn’t help.

“John? Anything?”

Casey grunted dismissively.

“How about you, Chuck?”

“Cas… John could try being a little less fussy with his toys.” Chuck leaned back in his chair, trying to see the clock that rested on the doctor’s desk.

“I was thinking something a little more interactive. What if you tried showing how much you care about each other, just in the privacy of this room? Each of you could tell the other all the positive feelings you have for the other.” The beam across the man’s plump face suggested that he thought this idea was a great one.

Chuck and Casey stared at each other, both silently determined not to go first. Casey’s eyes narrowed, and Chuck could see him mouthing four words. I. Have. A. Gun.

“Me first! I like John because-”

The doctor’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t you tell me you had been married three years? Don‘t you ever say you love one another?”

“Yes. Yes, I did, and of course we do.” Chuck laughed nervously. “All about the love. Love the love, you know, as far as love goes. Like I was saying, I love John because he’s… tall.”

“Because he’s tall?” The psychiatrist sounded disbelieving.

“Because I’m tall?” Casey just sounded annoyed.

“And, uh, protective. He cares about people, and he looks after the things he cares about. Plus, he doesn’t litter, which is always a plus in my book, and I really think that it’s your turn. Now.”

“I love Chuck because he’s tall too.” Casey rolled his eyes at that, earning a polite chuckle from Dr. Shepherd. “He may hate the idea of violence, but he’ll fight for his family and his friends, he always knows how to comfort people, and he’s smart.”

“Got a lot locked up there, huh Chuck?”

Chuck and Casey grinned at each other, momentarily forgetting their annoyance with the situation in favour of taking pleasure in a shared secret, an in-joke.

“Oh,” Casey raised his eyebrows meaningfully, “You have no idea.”

Casey’s phone beeped, and they were favoured with a look of disapproval as he pulled it out. Sarah had the intel, they could leave. “So sorry, we have to go.”

“Our dog, Pookums, is having puppies. Our vet, Sarah, promised to text when the time was near. We really have to run.” Chuck’s contribution earned him a dirty look from Casey.

They stood, grabbed their coats and rushed out, the doctor calling after them to remember to book another appointment.

“So.” Chuck started slyly, once they were in the nerd herder. “You love me. Can‘t take it back now, I know, you said it.”

“Shut it, Bartowski.”

“You fear that I won’t be careful enough with your feelings, but you still love me.”

“Bartowski…”

“You even care about our imaginary dog, that’s how much you love me.”

“Doesn’t have to be imaginary.”

“Huh?” Chuck turned to stare at Casey.

“The reasons you loved me seemed pretty easily found too.” Casey was staring straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Can we name our dog Pookums?”

“No. Not only no, but hell no.”

“Fine. How about Morgan Jr.?”

“You know what? You aren’t allowed to name anything ever.”

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