a/n: Take one part Chuck, one part new Magnum PI, one part new MacGyver, and one part my wild imagination, and this is what you get. Take cannon, and set it off to the side. I'm throwing so much out the window. This may be a train wreck, but we'll have fun, at least I think we will. Life's A Beach….Did I mention a ChuckQuinn joint?
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or any TV show.
Present Day
He ran his right hand through his curls as he entered the bar, his hair still wet from his recent shower. He knew he had at least two sets of eyes on him, one male, one female. It was a warm afternoon in Hawaii, and he had enjoyed as much of his morning as he could. Too much, to be honest; he was supposed to have been here an hour ago.
"Chuck," Morgan said, his tone filled with disappointment as Chuck walked up to the bar.
"Don't start with me," Chuck replied, glancing over at the brunette. She grinned at him from her sun-kissed face. She was wearing a tank-top and shorts; Chuck and Morgan were in Hawaiian shirts and shorts, as well.
"How about sex on the beach?" she asked, grinning at him. Morgan rolled his eyes.
"There are so many things I could say," Chuck began, returning the grin.
"Don't stop on my account," she replied, enjoying the game.
"Off all the gin joints, in all the towns, of all the world," Chuck began in his best Bogie voice.
"You know I literally named this place The Gin Joint, Chuck," Morgan cut in, trying to stop the banter.
"Never mind him, I enjoy bad pickup lines," she replied. She motioned for him to continue.
"Then how about on the beach? Won't we get sand in places we don't want?"
"Chuck, if I ever had sex anywhere with you, you'd gladly take that sand, wherever it ended up!" Chuck threw back his head and laughed. "Now make me the damn drink before I lose my tips… I'm working a table."
Chuck went around the bar, and began to make the drink. "Z, never let it be said that your faithful bartender would ever let you lose tips."
"You're late, and he's pout-y," Zondra told him, both ignoring Morgan who stood right beside him.
"I'm a cook, Chuck, you know that," Morgan began. "You know I know next to nothing about how to make drinks. I cook, you make the drinks; that's how this works."
"You're also the owner of this place, and I had to close for you last night – again, might I add – so you and Anna could go do whatever you two young kids do."
"Sex," Zondra said. "See, when a man and a woman… or woman and woman, or a man and a man-"
"We get it," Morgan grumbled.
"-have intense feelings for each other-"
"Will there be pictures?" Chuck asked with a grin, handing her the completed drink.
"Not of me," she replied with a wink. Chuck winked back as she took the drink to the table. He turned to find Morgan staring at him, his hands on his hips.
"What?" Chuck asked. "I told you last night if you left me, I was gonna be late today. I told you."
"I didn't think you'd actually do it," Morgan muttered, following Chuck as he began to stock the bar for the evening shift.
"Buddy, you own this place, and I'm glad to work for you. But at the end of the day, I can't keep doing it all."
"I know, I know," Morgan replied, throwing a towel onto the bar in frustration. "But dude, she had on that tie last night, and the fishnets."
"Morgan, it's Anna… she always has that on," Chuck explained patiently. "And if she doesn't… I'm not finishing that," he muttered under his breath.
"I'm weak," Morgan said, his gaze far away. Chuck laughed, picked up the towel, and began to wipe things down. "I'm sorry."
"And I'm sorry, but I needed some me time," Chuck told him. "I love working here, I love the people. But I told you when I left Stanford, me coming to Hawaii was about me getting away. And working at this bar is not me getting away."
"Uh-huh," Morgan said, elbowing him in the side. "New girl?"
"Nope," Chuck replied. "Just me and the ocean this morning. The last thing I need right now is to get involved."
"So, something caz', I get it." Morgan looked confused for a moment. "Is that what the kids say? Am I still one of the kids?"
"Morgan, there was no one with me last night, or today," Chuck replied, shaking his head. "Aren't you getting married? Why are you so worried about my love life?"
"I'm living vicariously through you," Morgan said, sighing. "I love my Anna-Banana, I really, really do. But my God there are so many gorgeous women out here on this beach."
"I won't tell her what you just said," Chuck replied, grinning, as he began to stack the glasses where they belonged. "And while there are gorgeous women on that beach, they also will want to know about me, get involved, and I don't need that."
"Chuck, dude, what are you doing?" Chuck turned to Morgan, his brow furrowed. "You've been here two years. No girlfriend, and you haven't finished your degree." He paused, his eyes narrowed. When are you gonna finish your degree? You promised you would. Ellie is not gonna be happy with me."
"Ah," Chuck said holding up a finger. "I never said I'd finish… I said I'd think about it." He surveyed the glasses and nodded, happy with how they were laid out in front of him. "And, I'm still thinking."
"Chuck," Morgan began. "It's been two years. Why are you still running from whatever happened at Stanford?"
"Morgan, I don't want to talk about it. And if you push me, the answer will be no, I won't go back," Chuck said, turning to his friend. He grabbed Morgan's shoulders, turning him, and marching him toward the kitchen. "It's time for you to make the magic happen." And with that, Chuck was alone behind the bar. Stanford… Chuck shook his head. He had spent the day on the waves to get his head cleared, and with one damn conversation, it returned.
"Can I get a beer?" came a voice at the bar. Chuck lifted his chin in acknowledgment and smiled. Time to pay the bills.
}o{
6 months earlier
"Walker," came a voice. Sarah opened her eyes and looked around. Her head hurt, and it smelled. Oh… she was in the drunk tank… again. "WALKER!"
"You donna haf'ta yell," she slurred. Shit, she was still drunk. Not as drunk as she had been, though. She looked down at her fist. It was bruised. She looked at the other one. Yep, bruised as well. She stood up. "Quit movin' the damn'd bars," she muttered.
"You're swayin'," came the gruff voice.
"Wha' can I say? I whipped all their asses, Casey," she said, the first thing she'd had to be proud of in months.
"Yeah, you did, kid, you sure did," Casey said. He glanced at Carina, who was standing beside him.
"Why wer't you wif me, 'Rina?" Sarah slurred. "I had to fight 'em all."
}o{
"Damn it, you overgrown ox, I'm gonna whip your ass!" she screamed, and then she was plunged back into the water again. The hand roughly pulled her out, and she struck out with her right hand. It caught him in the ribs, knocking the air out of him. "Damn it Casey! Carina!" She stood there, panting, the cold water having driven away the drunkenness.
"You done?" Casey asked, a grin on his face despite being on his ass, looking up at her.
"I've been done since that bitch took out my knee," Sarah spat.
"No, you quit," Carina replied. Sarah glared at her. "Nice, now do something about it, quitter."
Sarah sprang up, and hobbled at her, swinging. Carina easily sidestepping the punch. Sarah lost her balance and fell. Carina stood over her, holding her hand out. "We have someone that wants to work with you, to rehab you. Let us help you, Sarah."
"Kid, if anyone knows what you're going through, it's me," Casey said, also offering her his hand. She looked at them both, and sighed. She reached out to both of their hands, and they pulled her up.
}o{
Now
"So, John Casey?" the reporter asked, a grin on her face.
"John had served together with the son of the original owner. Casey saved the owner's son, and in gratitude, the house wound up going to Casey. I'm not allowed to divulge any more information than that," Sarah explained.
"But you are living in the guest house?" the reporter continued. "Are you Magnum PI?"
"Me? God no," Sarah snorted. "I am a private investigator, but John is the head of the group. It's John, Carina, and me. Each of us had other options for a career. But doing this work, where we get to help people and make a difference… it's hard to explain, but it's what we want to do."
"A sense of purpose?" the reporter offered.
"That's it!" Sarah replied, snapping her fingers and pointing at the reporter. "We all previously had jobs that Casey and I literally can't return to, because of injuries suffered in the performance of the job, and Carina doesn't want to do without me or another friend, so…"
"Well, I think it's wonderful that not only is there a detective living on the fictional Robin Masters estate, but that there are three of you," the reporter said with a smile. "Plus your Physical Therapist!"
"That's right, Gertrude Verbanski," Sarah replied, nodding. "Casey met her after his accident and they…" She grinned and shook her head. "Seeing John Casey in love is an interesting sight… or terrifying… or maybe a bit of both."
The reporter laughed, and faced the camera. "Sarah Walker, folks. If you need a private eye, she's your woman."
"That's a wrap," the producer said. The reporter shook Sarah's hand.
"Thank you so much for doing this," she said.
"No problem," Sarah replied, smiling. She watched the camera crew leave, and looked over the property. It was pretty wild that she was living on the set of Magnum PI. Twenty weeks out of the year, she had to live in the main house, keep away from the film crew, and try not to lose her cool when her life was disrupted. On the upside, she had also become one of the go-to private eyes on the island.
She flexed her leg, feeling little to no tightness in her knee. Nodding to herself, she knew she needed to get in some swimming to help loosen it. But, she had a full-day's work ahead of her, in dodging Carina and her antics.
They had finally caught Amy, after what she had done to the CAT Squad. But by the time they had, the accusations both herself and Zondra had thrown at each other had led to a rift that she did not think could ever be healed.
Carina was trying to mend the fence. Why, Sarah didn't know, but Carina was trying. Sarah was just glad that Carina had known John, and had found them a safe place to stay, after the explosion had taken her career with the CIA.
"Blondie!" she heard Carina call out. Sarah didn't roll her eyes, but it took all she had not to. Apparently, Zondra had agreed to meet with her at her job, as a waitress at a restaurant called The Gin Joint. Why Zondra was waitressing, Sarah had no idea. Zondra didn't really like people.
"Yes, Carina," Sarah answered, turning to her redheaded friend. "I'm guessing this is about Zondra?"
"Sarah, please," Carina asked, no pouting, no games. Sarah realized it was just Carina wanting to see the two people she trusted most in this world, back together. Sarah sighed. "Please," Carina asked.
"Fine," Sarah replied. "I'll go to the bar, but if she takes a swing at me…" Sarah trailed off, and shook her head.
"She won't," Carina promised, hooking her arm through Sarah's, and leading her to the car. "This is gonna be great!"
}o{
"Hey, can you do me a favor, curls?" Zondra asked, leaning across the bar, smiling at Chuck.
"Is sand involved?" Chuck asked, grinning. She snorted laughter.
"A couple of people I used to work with are here, and want to talk to me. Can you wait on anyone that comes in?" Chuck looked around at the empty restaurant/bar. "I'll split my tips with you."
"I don't want your tips," Chuck replied, nodding his head toward the table where the two women were sitting. "Go, I got you."
"You're the best," Zondra said. "At least, I'm sure you would be."
"You sweet-talker, you," Chuck replied. He watched the table out of the corner of his eye, seeing Zondra and the blonde woman talking, at times animated, and at times, almost sorrowful. He was more than surprised to see the two hug, but what surprised him the most was when the red-haired woman stood up, snapping her fingers.
"Yo, barstud, we need drinks!" she yelled. Chuck raised an eyebrow, and saw a sheepish smile on Zondra's face. Chuck shook his head, and headed over to the table.
"Ladies," he said, grinning at Zondra, who took a swat at him.
"You two a thing?" the redhead asked, pointing from Chuck to Zondra.
"She wishes."
"He wishes."
Their responses came at the same time, and they looked at each other and laughed.
"Chuck is the bartender, and just a good guy," Zondra explained. "Yeah we carry on, but he's like my brother."
"And I'm not into incest, so we're good," Chuck finished for her.
"You know you want to," Zondra muttered.
"Again, you're projecting your fantasies," Chuck replied. "So, champagne?"
"Uh, not me," the blonde said, a sheepish look on her face.
Chuck studied her a second. "Water, soda?"
"Water please," she replied.
"What color?" he asked.
She studied him, confusion on her face, and it dawned on her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Pink chip. "Dark blue next week."
"Good for you," Chuck replied. He held out his hand. "Chuck Bartowski, and any time you're in here, soft drinks, food, whatever… it's on me." Zondra turned to him, shock on her face. "What?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders. "If your friend is in here, at a bar, where we serve alcohol, then I'll be damned if I'm going to be the reason she doesn't get her next one. She's worked too hard to get where she is, and you know how I celebrate hard work."
"Sarah Walker," Sarah replied, shock on her face. "Thank you."
"My pleasure," Chuck replied with a smile.
"I'm Carina," Carina purred, extending her hand. Chuck shook it quickly, and let go.
He glanced at Sarah. "Anything else you want from the kitchen?" he asked. She shook her head, a small smile on her face. He nodded and headed toward the back.
"Damn, that boy does have game," Zondra said, watching Chuck leave, and then quickly turning to Sarah. "I didn't know he was interested in women." Sarah's eyes went wide. "I'm serious, he never tries to pick anyone up."
"He wasn't trying to pick me up, he's just a nice guy," Sarah replied. "You said he was nice."
"He is," Zondra agreed, enjoying watching Sarah struggle with what had just happened. "I'm sure he's very nice." Sarah gave her a flat look, making both Zondra and Sarah laugh.
a/n: I hope you enjoyed it. More soon.