Notes and *Spoiler Alert*

Roughly August 2012, I was out of hospital and mentally kicking this idea around. It got slush piled when Nick (ne71) suggested we collaborate on something.

So, I dropped this like a hot brick and we bounced Lockdown back and forth. Penguins. Heh.

These notes were written on our twelve year old, XP laptop. Being that old, it has issues. So, a bit under six months ago, my work upgraded me to a new compter.

I wrote the posted chapters on the new computer. And then, early January, the work computer was borrowed back. After three weeks, I de-mothballed this old computer, and played catch up on the daily reports etc.

During my hunting and reporting, I found these notes.

Except, these are funnier (I think).

Feel free to make any comments you like.

John.

Australia Day, 2013.

-o0o-

The Season Two iPhones

A tale of tragedy, trial and triumph. By Doc In Oz

Summary: At the start of season 2, all of the team suddenly had iPhones. This is a tale of those dark, desperate and dangerous days. There will be tears, tantrums and rude words, but if you have an iPhone, you knew that already. Rated T to be safe.

As of XXXX I don't own Chuck et al.

-0-

(Look it up) (n.) – the one about aggressive salesmanship high technology and salesmen who don't understand what they are selling.

Douglas Adams & John Lloyd – The Deeper Meaning of Liff

Published by Pan Books and Faber & Faber, 1990.

-o0o-

Phase One – Denial

"Chuck, no, I'm fine, really, and I love this new phone."

It was two weeks after Eleanor Faye received Devon's grannies engagement ring. The one covered in coffee grounds and miscellaneous human DNA. The recovery of which, she was never to know about under pain of bunkerization, or an even worse fate, Sarah looking at him, threateningly.

And seeing as how Chuck refused Casey's offer of him (Casey) inserting a GPS tracker into his (Chuck's) anatomy, the exact location was unspecified but Casey made it sound …. unpleasant for the recipient, a phone that featured GPS was seen to be a safer (read: less painful for the wimpy asset) option.

Once the option of a smart phone was introduced, the type of phone was the next item to discuss. For the professional nerd on the team, there was really only the one option.

Mainly because Chuck already had an iTunes account, and couldn't see the point of either getting a new music account or converting the files over to other formats.

It is worth noting that, of the three, only Chuck had an iTunes account.

Casey didn't need an iTunes account. He had CDs. CD from the eighties. And stashed away, somewhere extremely private, he still had records. Not 'vinyl,' but actual record, records. Back from when records were called records. And you just listened to them.

Dark Side Of The Moon, Tubular Bells, Hot August Night, Sunshine On Leith…..

Classics, all.

Sarah had….. Sarah was still discovering her musical tastes, but so far, she liked what Chuck had. Liked what he had in his music library. One day, he would discover that she had 'borrowed' the music files on his computer.

To Casey's ill-concealed amusement (openly mixed with equal parts disgust and derision), Walker wanted whatever the geek wanted.

That went for the phone too.

Honestly, Casey couldn't see what the fuss was about. His old Nokia worked fine. It was a cell phone. It did what cell phones were supposed to, you talked on it. Sometimes the text thing was useful. When radio silence was needed, for example. A condition that Bartowski needed to learn. But the rest of it? Couldn't see the point.

Part of the problem with everyone getting an iPhone, all at the same time, was this was Chuck's first iPhone too. So he was learning the 'how tos' the same as the non technical member(s) of the team. And there was no way he was letting Jeff or Lester near his new phone.

Besides, it should be pretty straight forward…

How hard can it be?

Stage Two – Anger

"Chuck! I hate this fucking phone! And I hate you for making me have one."

"Um, good morning?" he said in a doubtful tone, considering his options as he looked around, frantically, for what both Casey and Sarah had once described as 'cover from view, cover from fire.'

The new open plan, airy Fro Yo (so very SoCal) boutique lacked this newly highly desirable 'cover.' A situation Chuck never thought he would be in, in need of more cover around Sarah Walker.

The way she was gripping the phone… Chuck knew how deadly accurate her aim was from the impromptu Gummy Bear fight she'd had with him when the Orange Orange opened. Yoghurt and Fun, indeed.

Only it stopped being fun now that she wanted to hit him with something that weighed more than an ounce.

This could end painfully.

"All I want to do is call my boyfriend," Chuck noted that the clenched teeth and white knuckles that held the phone poised to clonk someone, someone, Chuck suspected, named 'Chuck' on the noggin from a distance estimated to be twelve feet, somewhat belied her use of the word 'boyfriend.'

"But naouuu," she dragged the syllables of a word not normally known for its multitude of syllables (or, while we're on the subject, vowels) out sarcastically, "this stupid thing doesn't work like that."

Chuck decided that he would stay and help his cover pretend girlfriend.

Mainly because Casey was still standing at the doors to the Buy More.

And he had that look.

It was a wonder there weren't laser holes burned into the glass of the Buy More.

It was only because there were civilians around he wasn't cradling a machine gun. Probably.

But he had offered to insert his shiny new phone into somewhere not shiny on Bartowski's body. So Chuck had decided to take his break early. Only Sarah was making him re-evaluate his decision making process.

"Oh! And another thing! The goddamn battery! What idiot designed a battery that runs out five times a day?"

She had a pretty valid point with that one.

Option Three – Bargaining

"Please, I'll do anything, I'll say anything you want, just give me back my old phone."

"Casey, you have to be strong."

"Walker, you don't know what its like."

Later:

"Bartowski!"

"And a good morning to you, John Casey."

"The video, I can turn it off, if you help me."

"…What?"

"Your bedroom, the whole place, if you want, I can turn off the video for the night. But you gotta help me."

"Um, let me speak to Sarah, first."

"Good idea, you, the skirt and no video."

Seven point eight three seconds later:

"Um….Sarah?"

'Chuck? What is it? Did you flash?'

"No, it's Casey. He's freaking me out…."

'Yeah, he misses his old Nokia, I think.'

"Um, okay….. well he just offered to turn the video off for the night."

'Bastard fights dirty,' she muttered.

"What?"

'Nothing. Do you want me to come over?'

"Um…."

'Never mind, I'll be there in fifteen minutes.'

"Wait…. Sarah? Sarah? She hung up."

"And Then, Depression Set In"

"I'm worried about him. He's grumpy. Really grumpy. And that is a lot more grumpier than normal. And for anyone to describe Casey as grumpier than normal, that's pretty grumpy."

"Meh, he's a big man. He'll get over it."

"Not before he hurts someone."

"He's a spy, that's kind of his job."

"I'm talking customers and staff at the Buy More."

Finally, Acceptance

"Sarah?"

"Mmm?"

"Did you just…."

She looked at him in that challenging way of hers, open, sexy and 'I dare you' all rolled into one. "Did I just what?" she asked, angelically innocent to all outward signs. Chuck knew her well enough to know better.

"…." His mouth opened, but nothing audible was able to make it past his voice box.

"Chuck?"

"Did you just sign off your message to me with a 'Tra la la?" he blurted, still shocked and more than a little horrified.

She smirked, "Mmmm-hmmmm," she said, as she moved closer to him.

He said nothing, and looked down. After a moment he smirked a little, himself.

"What?" she wanted to know.

He looked up, and said with a sideways twitch of his lips, "I just wouldn't have picked you as the 'tra la la' sort, that all."

"What sort am I, Chuck?" she intimated into his ear, having kept moving closer.

The word, assuming that it was a word, sounded awfully like, "Hot," as it squeaked out while he shuddered.

After the goose bumps subsided, and he no longer looked like the worlds biggest pussy cat that'd just gone Foomp! he asked her, "Just promise me one thing."

She remained silent, and Spocked a single eyebrow. Chuck felt that another foomped cat moment was rapidly approaching, but he manfully continued on anyway, "Just promise me you'll never use a 'I heart my job' along with the 'tra la la' we've discussed."

She leaned in, and said in a breathy whisper into his ear, "But Chu-uuu-uck…. You know how much I…. 'heart'….. my job," she managed to include a wheedle into a sensual whisper.

Naturally, owing to her proximity and breathy whisper, Chuck shuddered and went Foomp! all over again.

She grinned to herself, god she loved it when he did that. Oh look! There were little hairs, standing up on his skin, just begging to be blown on…..

-o0o-

Casey disconnected his phone with a happy grumble. Neil Diamond now had his own playlist, and that playlist was in his phone!

No more having to listen to Bartowski's idiotic, touchy feely music. Show the moron what real music was.

Ohhh, The Clash….. It's been a while, maybe just the one song…..

-o0o-