Chapter Text
Chuck broke off a whispered conversation with Casey at the sound of the Nerf Herd bell. Of course Jeff and Lester had abandoned their post and wandered off to who knows where. With a sigh, Chuck plastered on his best customer-service smile and headed for the desk before he noticed who was actually standing there. “Holy crap, it’s Sam Winchester!”
“Who is he? Fulcrum?” Casey asked as he not so subtly reached for the gun tucked in the small of his back.
“What? No!” Chuck grabbed Casey’s arm before he could pull his piece and scare the crap out of all the customers. “He’s just a guy I went to college with. He lived down the hall my senior year.” Sam had been just a skinny beanpole of a freshman back then but he had really filled out.
Casey continued to study Sam with narrow, suspicious eyes. “And how many of your old college pals have turned out to be spies and international terrorists?”
“That is a good, if disturbing, point.” Chuck did sometimes wonder if Stanford had secretly offered a major in spy-jinks. He kind of wished he could go back in time to take some of the classes. “Tell you what, I’ll go over there to see if I flash on anything and you wait before you start shooting. Good deal?”
“Sam, hey!” Chuck called with a genuine smile. Sam didn’t smile back though. In fact, he looked kind of alarmed. “It’s Chuck. Chuck Bartowski? From Stanford?”
Recognition dawned. “Yeah, Chuck. You lived down the hall before you got…” He trailed off awkwardly. Chuck’s expulsion from Stanford tended to be a real conversation killer. “And now you work here?”
Man, it was at times like these that Chuck wished that he could just tell people that he was an international superspy with a crazy hot girlfriend and not just some loser stuck in a dead-end job. “Yeah…so, what have you been up to since college?”
“Family business.”
Chuck could feel the flash building like a sneeze. Fire. Cover of Supernatural. Police reports. Crime scene photos. Dean Winchester’s interview with the Baltimore PD. Fire. And, just like that, it was over leaving Chuck breathless and shaking. Monsters were real. Monsters were real and Sam Winchester was a monster-hunting badass with a series of books based on his adventures. Seriously, how was this his life?
“Are you all right?” Sam asked looking a bit like he was going for a concealed gun. “Your eyes just got all weird.”
Oh, great. Sam probably thought Chuck was possessed or something. “I’m fine. It’s drugs, I mean, medication.” And now he thought Chuck was a junkie. He supposed that was marginally better than getting shot or tied to a chair and exorcized, but still, way to make an impression. “Medication I’m supposed to take. I’m not…I don’t…” This conversation was not going the way he had planned. Chuck took a deep breath and started over. “Hi, I’m Chuck. Welcome to Buy More. How can I help you today?”
Sam regarded him wearily before holding out an ancient laptop covered in classic rock decals. “I think it has a virus.”
Chuck nodded and filled out the necessary paperwork like he wasn’t talking to a bonafide monster hunter. “Okay, well, this will probably take a few hours, so we’ll call you when it’s done.” Casey materialized ninja-like at Chuck’s side the second Sam was out of sight. “Gah!” He yelped, jumping half-a-foot in the air. “Don’t do that!”
“Is he going to be a problem?”
“No.” Chuck fought down a bubble of hysterical laughter. “He’s definitely on the side of the angels.”