134A/N: If you think I have a clue where this is going, you're wrong. (Unbeta'd all mistakes my own)
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck
Chuck felt the bag get ripped off of his face and saw the terrified man standing there before him. In the background, he heard a scream and a gun shot. "Not going well is it?" Chuck asked.
The man held a knife in front of Chuck. "Make her stop or I will kill you!"
"No, you won't," Chuck replied. He rolled his neck, feeling it pop. "See, if you kill me, she won't kill you." The man stared at him. "Do you know she'll cut off your fingers one by one…no…she wouldn't." The man gave a sigh of relief. "She'd do it at the knuckles first." He blanched. "And then the toes." Chuck then pressed his lips together, looked at the man's groin and then back to his face. Chuck raised his eyebrows, and the man in front of him flinched and covered his private parts.
"We used to call that the Morgan," Chuck groused. "So, I know you're not Diego, but she doesn't. So, the question is, why are you going around claiming you're Diego." Another scream, this time closer, followed by two gun shots. "You better hurry, she's getting closer!"
"He offered people to be him for a week," the man replied.
"Who are you?" Chuck asked.
"Freddy," he replied. "I'm Freddy, and all I wanted was to be the big guy for a week, the women, the money-"
"The death," Chuck finished for him. "How many men do you have?"
"I have over one hundred," Freddy replied.
"Had," Chuck corrected. Freddy paled. "That's what's taking her so long," he muttered.
"Please don't let her kill me," Freddy pleaded.
"Listen, you're a good guy, right? You've committed no crimes," Chuck began. Freddy looked away. "I mean, we're talking jay walking, right?"
"I've killed a few people," Freddy admitted.
"But only bad ones, right?" Chuck asked.
Freddy swallowed. "I mean, I got paid to kill them."
"Freddy, this doesn't look good for you," Chuck admitted.
"You'll put in a good word for me?"
"Freddy, you kidnapped me, you've killed people, why would I put in a good word for you?"
"But I could kill you," Freddy insisted.
"You're not that stupid," Chuck pointed out. Freddy's eyes went wide as he thought about the implications. Suddenly he didn't think about anything as he fell forward, a hole appearing in his head.
"Drat," Sarah said, walking in. She walked up to Freddy, ripped part of his shirt off, and began to clean Chuck's face or the blood and brain that had splattered onto it. When it was clean, she took his head in her hands, and kissed the top of Chuck's forehead. "I'm sorry I took so long to get here."
"It's okay, I heard there were over one hundred men," Chuck replied.
"Doesn't matter," Sarah said, looking around and then back at her husband.
"Are you gonna untie me?" Chuck asked.
Sarah looked at him and grinned. "How securely are you tied up there?"
"Sarah," he said, his eyes going wide.
She picked up her phone. "Gonna need pickup, two hours," Sarah said. "I have some de-briefing to do," she said, waggling her eyebrows. She hung up and pulled out her knife.
"You're not cutting the ropes off, are you?" he asked. She shook her head.
}o{
The next day saw the two sitting in front of Graham. "Would you like to explain this?" he asked, dropping a thick folder on his desk.
"Not really," Chuck replied.
"Why were you naked when we found you?" Graham asked.
"My clothes were shredded during my rescue," Chuck replied.
"The rescue that took," Graham paused as he looked at his notes. "Two hours?"
"A lot of de-briefing, sir," Sarah replied with a straight face.
"And you included your clothes in the list of expenses?" Graham asked. Chuck looked at Sarah, who shrugged.
"They were destroyed while Chuck was held hostage," Sarah replied.
"Don't you mean during the rescue?" Graham asked.
"Listen, if Chuck hadn't gotten tied up, the knife wouldn't have been necessary," Sarah began.
"Oh, Lord," Graham muttered, his hand covering his face. He glanced at Chuck who was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
"I was trying to get him free," Sarah continued.
"And you kept missing the ropes?" Graham asked.
"I had just killed over one hundred bad guys, Sir, adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and I had to do something to get rid of it," Sarah replied, shrugging.
Graham looked at Chuck. "So you're something?"
Chuck nearly choked. "Sir," Sarah continued. "I believe our record continues to speak for itself."
"It does," Graham admitted. "Five people have paid to be 'Diego' and all five are now deceased."
"They are bad people," Chuck pointed out.
"They are," Graham said, shutting the folder, sighing. "Do you think you two could take a week or two off, for my sake?"
"I mean, we can try," Sarah said. "If it's an order."
"Oh, it's an order," Graham told her. "By the way, exactly how did you set a dungeon on fire."
"Sir, if you want something to happen bad enough, it can," Sarah explained patiently.
"Are you saying you don't want Diego bad enough?" Graham asked.
Sarah's eyes flashed. "Oh, shit," Chuck muttered.
"Two weeks vacation you two," Graham said, dismissing them. "Go somewhere, wherever you want, just go."
Chuck and Sarah walked outside Graham's office. They continued in silence until they got to the car.
"I'm going after Diego," she said as he shut his door.
"No, we're going after Diego, and we're going to kill him," Chuck retorted.
She gave him a grateful smile. "You say the nicest things to me."
"What say we go home and you de-brief me?" Chuck asked. Sarah grinned and pulled out her knife. "Wait until we get home." She smiled and moved toward him. "SARAH!"
A/N: I have no idea. I really don't.
