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[personal profile] frea_o
Testing the cross-posting of the possibilities by posting a random scenelet found in my extras file.

Title: Outpost GKW Deleted Scene
Rating: G
Fandom: Chuck
Pairings: Chuck/Sarah, Bryce/Sarah
Summary: The inhabitants of Outpost GKW adjust to having two secret agents convalescing in their private little corner of paradise. Some handle it better than others.

“You know, Carmichael, I wish I had your problems.”

Chuck ignored his roommate’s comment as he sat down at the small table wedged into the outpost’s kitchen out of long habit. While Chuck liked to hear himself talk just to fill the silence, sometimes Jensen liked to hear himself talk just to hear himself be clever.

And Chuck’s reticence didn’t deter him one bit. “I mean, being forced to concentrate on your fancy computer systems with an almost-naked woman in the room with you must be rough.”

“You forgot the ‘deathly ill and dehydrated’ part,” Chuck said, picking up the cards Jensen had just dealt him. He swallowed hard, but it did nothing for his dry throat. Usually at the nightly card games, he’d have a tumbler of water next to his hand; the table there was noticeably empty.

“Semantics,” Jensen said.

“Two,” Donaldson said, sliding two cards over to Jensen.

“Just wondering, since I know how you nerds can be so weirdly proper, but did you get a good look at her—”

“How’s Bryce doing?” Chuck said before Jensen could start rhapsodizing about Agent Sarah Walker in a way that might require Sarah’s partner to punch him. “You check on him?”

“Dozing,” Donaldson said.

It was a kick in the pants, Chuck couldn’t help but think, to know that his best buddy from school was not only a part of the Central Intelligence Agency, but that he was a field agent to boot If Chuck had accepted the CIA’s offer back in college, they might have even gone through training together, which would have been surreal and cool at the same time. Even so, it hardly mattered: here they were, reunited after two years apart, out in the middle of the Kalahari. Both CIA agents.

“His fever’s gone,” Jensen said, rearranging his cards in his hand. It was a tell that he was holding at least one ace, but nothing higher than a pair. That didn’t help Chuck, who was only holding a pair of tens. “Seems to be a quick healer.”

“Keeps asking after the blonde.”

“Don’t blame him,” Jensen said, nodding at Donaldson. He eyed Chuck, speculatively. “They together, you think?”

“If she’ll have me.” Bryce’s cracked voice, almost rusty, drifted from the bunk room. A second later, the man himself followed. He was wearing clothes borrowed from Jensen, though Chuck’s spare bandanna hung around his neck. “Problem is, she’s stubborn.”

“That’s okay. So are you.” Chuck evacuated his chair so that Bryce could sit down. “How are you doing?”

“Couldn’t be better.” Bryce limped over to the seat with a grateful nod. The skin around his eyes was beginning to peel some, and the rest—which he’d covered up with a suit jacket, still seemed oddly gray. But he looked much better than he had the day before, when he’d outright resembled a corpse. A bit more hydration, Chuck figured, and he’d be on the full road to recovery. And that thought made him wince: there wasn’t much water left.

The occupants of the outpost had mutually decided to go on half-rations until more water or fuel for the Rover could be air-dropped, to better the convalescents’ chances of survival and healing. As a result, the normally clean-shaven Chuck had the start of an impressive beard, and they’d cut the number of rounds they made daily from three to one. During the hottest part of the day, they’d decided that Chuck, Donaldson, and Jensen took turns staying in the computer room with Sarah. And it still wasn’t enough: having two extra mouths to feed and hydrate was straining the outpost’s resources far more than Donaldson liked.

Indeed, the old man scowled when Chuck retrieved a bottle of water from the cooling unit and set it in front of Bryce.

The other man nodded his thanks. “How’s Sarah?”

“Resting. She’s waking up some, seems pretty lucid.”

“She woke up?” Bryce immediately straightened and looked toward the computer room.

“For a bit. She’s...kicking the morphine faster than I’d like.”
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