Title: Chuck vs. the Night of Surprises
Series Unnamed series: Part 1 of 10
Rating: PG (Rating will go up as series continues)
Ship: Suggested Chuck/Casey
Word Count: 2,300
Beta: The lovely ru_salki99
Disclaimers: Not mine, NBC's
Feedback: Please. It makes me happy.
Summery: Answer to a prompt from the Chuck Slash ficaton on Live Journal. I'm planning on 9 more. All will be connected to this fic. My prompt was an icon of Jayne (also played by Adam Baldwin) from Firefly. It was Jayne playing a guitar. It can be seen on my Live Journal Page for those who wish to see it.

Chuck couldn't believe his eyes. They had been on many missions and he had seen many covers, but this one left him staring in stunned awe. He was currently in an extremely busy café, sitting at the table, sipping a latte and waiting. Their target frequented the café and they were hoping he'd flash on him and any associates, who might show up with him. Typical fare for him, but it was the other two covers that had him humming with amusement.

Sarah was currently playing barista, serving said coffee to the mob of customers that were demanding her attention. It must have been too much for her, because she looked like she had been pumped with 10 gallons of caffeine herself. She was racing about, her eyes were wide and her tied back hair a mess. She looked truly frazzled. To make matters worse, Chuck could tell she was desperately trying to keep on eye on him. No matter how long he had been doing this, she always worried over him.

And Casey? There was where the awe came in. Casey was on the stage, acoustic guitar in hand, strumming away like he had been born for it. His appearance was unkempt, like he had just rolled out of bed in the t-shirt and kakis he was wearing and headed over to this place. Plus, he hadn't shaved in days. Unlike Sarah, he looked relaxed and comfortable up there. Still, Chuck could tell he was scanning the room for trouble. His blue eyes kept rising to the crowd, as if he seemed to be appreciating that he had listeners, but there was a focus in them that Chuck was sure everyone but him was missing.

As he finished up a rendition of "I am a Rock," there was a splattering of applause around the room. Chuck, himself, had to fight the temptation to hoot, holler and whistle, even if it was inappropriate for the mission and not to mention the subject matter of the song.

Instead, he watched Casey get up to take a break. He headed right over to his table.

As Casey lumbered over him, Chuck smiled up at him. "Great talent never gets appreciated," he said.

Casey rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to be looking at the customers, not me."

"I can't help it," he admitted bashfully. "I mean, who knew?"

"I did and now you do as well. Get over it, before you mess this up."

"Don't worry, I'm looking. Just acting natural; drinking this fine coffee and admiring the tunes." There was a skip of a beat, before he added, "Ever think about joining Jeffster?"

Casey sneered with outright disgust, at the prospect, before slipping into a seat across from Chuck. Tapping his fingers on the table, he gazed around the room. Chuck could tell he was anxious for something to happen.

"So when did you learn?"

"What?"

"The guitar. When did you learn to play?"

Casey shrugged. "As a teen, like most."

Chuck leaned forward, intrigued. "I never pictured you into that sort of thing. I pictured you, err, into baseball or something. You know the typical male American pastime."

"Na," he said with the flick of a hand, though there was a spark of interest forming in his eyes. "I was a bit of a loner."

"You?!"

He grunted and jerked his head in concession.

"I was too, minus Morgan. It's wasn't until college that I bloomed."

Casey gave him a skeptical look.

"… and quickly withered," he added with a half smile.

They both went quiet. Chuck took another sip of his drink, before glancing around the room. It was packed, but as far as he could tell, their target still wasn't here.

"Would either of you boys like a refill?" They both looked up at the question. It was Sarah standing there, a strained smile on her face and her eyes screaming 'what the fuck!' She flipped her pony tail forward as to emphasize her annoyance.

Chuck sat back with a smile and lifted her beverage up towards her, "No, we're good."

She shot Casey a look, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Casey answered with a hand wave.

"Alright," she said slowly, "But if you need anything, let me know."

As she disappeared back behind the counter, Chuck turned back to Casey, "The staff here are so friendly," he said with faked glee.

"She's right. That is exactly what I was coming over here to scream at you over."

"He's not here yet. Besides, I have a hard time picturing a bad guy in a place like this."

Casey leaned in and whispered. "Don't let it fool you. I had a hard time picturing the 'bad guys' at that southern belle's coming out party, last year, but it ended up being a assembly of them."

Chuck cringed at the memory. He had had a headache for a full week with all the flashing he did. He even had the misfortune to flash on the debutante, herself. A 'symbol of beauty and purity' his ass.

"I love music," Chuck rambled on, wanting to change the subject. "Never gets old. I can listen to it for hours on end. When I was a teenager, I even went through my crazy crush on musicians phase." He smiled fondly at the memory. "It didn't matter what they played or what they looked like. If they had that guitar in hand, it got my attention. Still, kind of does."

At seeing Casey quirked eyebrow, he realized the implication. "I mean! Um, I didn't mean, yeah, you know. Just saying." Chuck covered his eyes, in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"What do I care?"

Chuck chests tightened at Casey's indifference. Biting his lip, he turned his head away just in time to see the owner of the café headed their way.

He was a blond, average man in his forties. As he stopped at their table he glared at Casey. "I'm not paying you to chat up the customers."

"I'm on my break."

"Your break is over."

"But this one's so pretty." Casey ran his eyes over Chuck in a manner that made him feel like a lamb chop in front of a wolf. He stared back a moment, before, in distress, his eyes darted away to the owner, who was staring at him with immense amusement.

He turned back to Casey. "Fine," he said with a finger point, "but only because this one is so 'pretty'. Five more minutes."

Casey winked at Chuck, making his blush deepen.

The corner of the owner's mouth twitched as he tried to stay serious. "But remember, I wouldn't even had hired you if my normal guy hadn't backed out." He shook his head and then glazed over towards the counter, "First my musician and then my baristas. Bad week." He sighed and walked away.

When he was out of earshot, Casey smirked, "I knew that would work."

"Why?"

"Because he's gay."

Chuck looked over to the owner in question. "How can you tell?"

Casey shrugged. "Just following my gut."

Chuck swallowed and wondered what Casey thought of him then. "Okay, but what does that have to do with what just happened?"

Casey frowned deeply. "It shocks me sometimes how naïve you are. And here I thought that all that trembling and doe eyes… was…." His eyes went wide a second, before his face went blank again.

"Was?

He shook his head. "…nothing…" Casey got up and squeezed his shoulder. "Behave."

He headed back over to the stage. After a set of the likes of The Animals, Elton John and much to Chuck's horror, The Bee Gees, the night wrapped up. The target never came. The mission had been a bust, but he had, at least had fun. He really couldn't say that about every mission. As Sarah escorted the last of the patrons out, Casey let him know what was next. "We'll be back here tomorrow night. Same set up."

"And if he doesn't come?"

"Then the next night, as well." Casey crouched down and picked the money out of his tip jar, shoving it in his pocket.

Chuck gave him a questioning look.

"What? It's a perk."

"Is that why you're always wanting to be the bar tender?"

"No, but it doesn't hurt."

"Well, next time," Sarah broke in, "You're serving the coffee. I'll get up there on stage with a cow bell if I have to."

"It couldn't have been that bad. I do that shit all the time."

"Trust me. People will wait longer for their alcohol, than they will for their next caffeine fix".

Chuck sat back and watched as Sarah cleaned up after the mess. After a moment, she turned to them. "You guys can help, you know!"

With a shrug Chuck got up and started wiping down tables.

Casey, on the other hand, just sat there, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Is Miss Sarah having a bad day?"

Sarah didn't bother with a reply, but they could both tell she was annoyed.

Casey chuckled and began to mess around with his guitar. As time dragged on, he could see Casey getting lost in his own world. There was a love there, in his eyes. There was a man, who deep down really loved playing. Chuck ached to sit down next to him and just watch. He had learned bits and pieces about Casey over the years, but somehow, in this moment, it was like seeing into Casey's soul; seeing him for who he really was. Even with knowing that Casey had been in a choir growing up, he'd never really thought of him as musical.

The moment didn't last for Chuck though. Sarah passed closely by, her eyebrow arched up at him as she shoved some dirty towels into the basket of linens that he had his arms wrapped around. Chuck got the point and headed off to complete his task.

As he walked towards the back, Chuck gazed about him. He liked this place. Like anything well loved, it was worn, but it had character. The employee area was basically a ragged old couch and the owner's messy desk, and- with his eyes rolling back, Chuck went stiff. His basket of linens fell to the floor.

When he came through, he shook his head and ran back to the main area. "Casey! Sarah! I just flashed." Used to this, they immediately both dropped what they were doing and followed Chuck. As they reached the employee area, he pointed to the picture of two men on the owners desk. "Look! That's him." It was a picture of the target. Sitting next to him was the owner of the café.

Casey growled. "And I had joked around with the scum."

Chuck could tell he took this as an insult.

Sarah on the other hand seemed to care less. "That explains why the target is rumored to spend so much time here. He knows the owner."

"Or maybe he knows the owner because he spends so much time here," Chuck added.

"We can't be sure."

"Are you kidding?" Casey broke in. "I don't care if the target buys 1000 gallons of coffee a week. The owner wouldn't have a photo of them on his desk unless there was some sort of relationship."

Chuck paused. "Do you think it's safe to talk here?"

"We can't be sure." Sarah took out a mini camera and snapped a photo of the picture.

"I swept the place for bugs the other night. There were none."

"When did you do that?"

"When I set up the week of gigs. I told them I had to check out the sound of the place. The owner thought I was a prick, but let me do it."

Chuck gave him a knowing look. That was likely why Casey also figured out the owner was gay. The picture. He'd probably known what the target looked like for a week and didn't know it.

A half an hour later, Sarah was closing up the store. As they walked out, Chuck realized the night was gorgeous. It was cool, with a slight breeze. Casey was walking a little ahead of them, the guitar slung over his shoulder. Something was bothering Casey, but Chuck wasn't sure what. Was it just the picture? Wanting to know, Chuck jogged a little to catch up to him. Casey looked over to him a moment, before they continued on, walking next to one another as they went to the car, a block away.

"All that and no Led Zeppelin?" He smiled, trying to incite conversation.

Casey rolled his eyes and huffed, "Yes, Whole Lotta Love just begs for a café rendition."

"Have you boys cracked?" Sarah muttered, shaking her head.

Chuck just ignored her. "So what's with the greatest hits of the 60s and 70s? Allergic to anything current?"

"There hasn't been a decent song written since 1979," Casey said in all seriousness, before cracking a grin.

"I see. Well, I'll have you know that the 80s were an oasis for the pop tune."

"The 80's were awful," he grimaced.

"Come on!! You can't tell me you don't think "Love Song" is the best?!"

"What?"

Chuck smirked. "Above your head, huh?"

Casey opened the car door, placing his case in the back, before getting into the drivers seat.

Chuck babbled on., "You should let me do your set list for tomorrow night. It would be awesome."

"That's not why we're doing this, Chuck." Sarah said trying her best to fight a smile.

"Besides, there was nothing wrong with what I played tonight," Casey added.

Chuck shrugged. "Just trying to help."

The next night they were right back at the café. Sarah behind the counter, Chuck at his table and Casey on the stage. Chuck noted that Casey not only played "Whole Lotta Love," but "Love Song". And when he did, he threw Chuck a wink.

Note: "I am a Rock" is written by Simon and Grafunkel and "Love Song" is written by The Cure.