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The cloying heat of summer stuck to Chuck's skin like a damp rag that was never really wrung out. They were under the scorching sun, just behind a bush at a reasonable distance from the location they were assigned for the day's mission.
"I'll go in first as the sun sets. Could be easier for me to blend in and clear the way for you to gather the Intel." Said Sarah from their hiding spot right as dawn was setting in. She got up and quickly reached for the costume bag in their van, always filled in case of necessity.
"Why don't we make Casey get in? Get the coast clear for us." Chuck pointed out. The colonel had a habit of dressing as a barman, waiter...you name it, he got it. And he was damn good at it. He had the skills to easily blend in and get the bad guys down in seconds.
"Think I'm sultry enough to get us in, dipshit? Better to have someone actively "entertaining" them. We all know what those rich guys think about all the time, and it's two things; Money and women." Snapped Casey, no real bite behind his words. He did have a valid point. Distracting the big deals would help them best and wouldn't raise any suspicions, rather than someone possibly walking in on Casey knocking a guard out cold.
"You're right... Sarah's going."
The sun was about to set...
The Bartowski team ended up going undercover as a whole. As Sarah distracted the homeowner, who was none other than the party host and Intel holder, Chuck and Casey made their way to the mansion's upper levels.
"Stay behind me, Bartowski. Follow my steps." Muttered Casey. The floor appeared to be creaky under Chuck's feet, and yet the agent's steps, no matter the muscle mass, felt like phantom touches.
As they were walking through another empty hallway, something caught Chuck's eyes. "Wait- wait- wait- wait!" He all but shout-whispered.
"What is it? Had a flash?" Replied the colonel, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"Look over there..." Muttered Chuck as he pointed at a mahogany door with golden handles. Different from the other rather minimalistic ones.
Casey let out a grunt#11 of approval, before quickly sprinting to the locked entrance, taking a spot right behind the wall next to it, gun's safety off.
A few seconds of silence followed and the agent sprung to action, making quick work of the closed padlock.
They quietly made their way in, Casey stopping just behind the edge of the door.
"Look for a folder. Should be labeled LDH-21. Be quick."
Chuck nodded and immediately got to searching amongst the different drawers and cabinets.
The coast seemed clear, no signs of oncoming bypassers or worse, guards. Nonetheless, the newbie spy was taking too long, so Casey looked back at the intersect, doing a double take after getting a quick but sufficient look at him.
"Are you seriously not wearing gloves..?" He all but growled. Uh-Oh.
"I might've forgotten..." Chuck replied, and all he got as a reply was grunt#3. Definitely not a happy one. That was his cue to look harder and faster.
The last drawer of the desk revealed a blue folder, the label LDH-21 on the side. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he dragged his knees away from the ground.
"Found it! I actually can't believe it was this eas-" A warm hand on his chest stopped him right on his tracks. Casey's attention was fully projected onto hearing what was happening behind the hallway's corner, brows furrowed in concentration.
"Shit- They're coming." Those same eyebrows reshaped into conveying concern, eyes flickering around the room in search of a hiding spot.
"Wait! Come here, quick!" Chuck took a hold of the agent's wrist and pulled him along, getting the both of them inside what seemed to be a closet. A literal closet. It was filled with boxes at their feet and a hanger bar right above their heads with no clothes attached to it whatsoever. The space they found themselves in was extremely cramped, especially considering their statures.
Before Chuck could open his mouth and blabber something he'd regret, the door seemed to open on the other side of the shut closet.
A few voices could be heard, although the sound was muffled and the language seemed foreign.
After a brief quiet spell, Chuck decided it was a the right time to speak his mind for good.
"I think we c-" A calloused hand curled around his mouth, palm-to-lips. Casey's other hand briefly brushed against his, a spark making its way up the intersect's spine.
Right before the door was about to close again, a slim but rather big hand made its way around Casey's waist, curling right above his hip.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" The agent whisper-shouted, shifting his hand to sit on Chuck's shoulder rather than shutting him up. Although he voiced his complains, he made no move whatsoever to get out of their positioning
"Don't get too comfortable Bartowski." The colonel bared his teeth in a veiled snarl, though the lack of light made it hard for the message to come across.
"What do you mean? Oh-" Chuck's eyes widened as he squeezed what laid just under his hand. "Crap- Sorry, Casey! I didn't think- I wasn't-" Jeez. Poor guy can't even speak coherently, thought the colonel, amused by the bare nervousness displayed by the intersect. And yet he couldn't lie and say he wasn't slightly flattered by it.
"Let's get out of here." Casey slowly dragged his hand from the intersect's shoulder to the side of his face, a strong shiver from Chuck's behalf making itself known as he brushed along his neck. His face inched closer, eyes wide with expectation, before two strong pats collided on his cheek. "Eyes on the task, Bartowski." The agent flashed a grin before slowly opening one of the closet doors. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he dragged the both of them right out of that place.
They slowly but silently made their way out of the party, as to not let their escapade stand out.
Once they'd found agent Walker they finally left for good.
Chuck let out a relieved sigh right as his back hit the seat, still slightly panting from the usual adrenaline rush he got from running away. "Glad we made it- Sarah! What happened to you?" Chuck's question got Casey's attention, turning his head to the passenger seat.
The very-disheveled-Sarah's red dress was slightly ripped at the bottom, her hair was a total mess, mascara smudged at the edges and one of her nails had come off presumably during a fight, if some of the scratches on her arms and collarbone weren't a dead give away.
"While you guys did the easy part, I had to fight with all of that pig's ladyfriends! It was- what? A dozen of them? Absolutely feral, too."
"Well," Casey began, "It's not like I had it easy either. I had to share a closet with the idiot. A literal closet." An indignant Hey! coming from behind.
Sarah just rolled her eyes, unbelieving but at the same time aware that it was just a jab. Instead of arguing, she settled for resting against the car seat until they got back to Burbank.