A/N: This one is set before the birth of their twins. Sarah's not happy, Chuck is trying to help and Casey gets dragged along for the ride.

I don't go on suicide missions

Casey was an unhappy camper and it showed. The Crown Vic's V-8 engine roared as he pushed the pedal to the floor. Every now and then he would glance over at the furball huddled in his passenger seat. Okay, seeing that made him feel a little better. But only a little, it was nearly 3 am after all. He should've never answered the phone. Isn't that what caller ID is for, to ignore morons like Bartowski. Admittedly, the phone call itself had been amusing.

xxxx

"Bartowski, it's 12:30 in the am, this had better be life or death!" He'd barked into the phone.

The first thing he heard was Sarah's voice in the background, not sounding very pleased. Nope, not at all. "Who's that? Who are you calling Chuck? It's her isn't it? Right in front of me, my husband is calling his floozy."

"Floozy?" Casey thought to himself. "Maybe this call will have some value after all."

"For your information, I'm talking to Casey. Honestly Sarah, I have no idea why you keep bringing this up. I love you and only you." Chuck's voice came through louder as he addressed Casey. "John, I'm sorry it's so late, but I desperately need your help. Sarah is really having a bad night and I need a few supplies." Chuck's next words were meant for both of them. "I would go myself, but someone thinks I'm going to run away with the express-lane checkout girl at Safeway."

"Don't use that tone of voice with me Chuck Bartowski. I've seen it with my own eyes." Huffing as she gets more worked up. "Of course, she has to be a brunette. Always giving you a come hither little smile as she scans your produce. Looking all cute with her perky breasts and tight, flat tummy." Sarah moaned in anguish. "I used to have perky breasts. Now look at them, they'll never be the same. And...and, I bet she has skinny, twig-like ankles, not tree trunks like mine. Once this is over with, you're never getting near me with that thing in your pants. You hear me...Never!"

"Believe me Sarah, you're as beautiful as the day we married. Why would I ever want to look at anyone else." Talking hurriedly into the phone. "Casey, please, please help me. I haven't been able to get to the store and now Sarah is having her midnight cravings. Can you go? Say yes...please say yes..."

Taking his time to answer, enjoying letting Chuck twist in the wind, Casey could hear Sarah still rambling away in the background. "And of course, me the overachiever, I have to get pregnant with twins. God, I'm soooo huge. Remind me to burn this nightgown. It looks like a circus tent stretched over a giant watermelon. Wipe that smirk off your face right now!" Sniffling, "You did this to me, but, I'm the one suffering. My feet hurt, can you rub my feet? Well Chuck, is John gonna do it or not?"

He took pity on Chuck and agreed to the food run. Thanking him effusively, Chuck then rattled off a list of items. When Casey asked where to find some of the stuff Chuck was requesting, he was informed that it was covered. Unfortunately, that turned out to mean Morgan had been called. Chuck had gone on to assure him that no one could find food in the Burbank area better than Morgan, no matter what the time. Grunting his displeasure, Casey was thanked yet again by a very grateful Chuck. In the background, Sarah had started crying and apologizing to Chuck for her behavior. Happily, Casey hung up. "I'm so glad that's not my life."

xxxx

So, a half an hour later found Casey driving on Burbank streets he never knew existed as the furry gnome led him on their unusual scavenger hunt. He made note of the all-night Chinese restaurant when they stopped to pick up an order of dumplings, Sarah's favorite. That information could come in handy some day. It was always good to have options for an after mission snack. The list, being both extensive and esoteric, was becoming quite a challenge. Even for Morgan's bloodhound-like gastronomic acumen. Casey had to admit, it could have been worse. He kicked himself for having that thought minutes later after receiving a call from Chuck asking how things were going. And then another call, and another, an increasingly frazzled Bartowski was asking for updates every 20 minutes.

Trying to salvage what he could from the night, Casey made a game of guessing what hormone-fueled mood swing would have hold of Mrs. Moron when Chuck made his call. He was almost always wrong, but, couldn't care less with some of the words coming out of Sarah's mouth. The new material was priceless. He was going to enjoy holding all of it over Chuck's head for a long time to come. Casey quickly pulled to the curb and parked as Morgan pointed frantically.

"That's it right there, Insane Edger's Eatery, the only place in town where you'll find peanut butter marshmallow fudge and mint jelly at this time of night." Morgan was looking insufferably pleased with himself. Casey was just happy they'd found the last two item's on the distaff Bartowski's stomach-turning checklist.

Morgan's constant yammering had severely damaged his calm. Mission accomplished, Casey wasted no time in getting to the Bartowski residence. He took a perverse pleasure in watching Morgan hold on for dear life as he slid through turns that nearly brought the Vic up on two wheels. The lack of traffic in the early morning hours allowed him to really let go for a nice change of pace. Morgan's pleas for mercy had dwindled away to nothing as the little man barely avoided hyperventilating during Casey's wild ride. With the screech of rubber on asphalt still echoing off the neighboring houses, Morgan threw open his door and fell out, eager to escape the devil car.

Gathering up the bags, Casey barely noted Morgan's erratic, stumbling departure. He wasn't half-way up the walk before Chuck had the door open and was rushing down to meet him. "Oh thank God you're here. Casey, you are a life saver." Chuck swooped in and snagged all of the parcels, rushing them back into the house. Casey followed at a more sedate pace. It wasn't his balls currently in a vice. When he caught up, the kitchen table was already strewn with empty bags as Chuck placed each food item into it's proper spot.

He leaned against the wall and watched Bartowski go through his arcane ritual. Chuck had tried to explain it all one day, the odd combinations and specific order that Sarah had dictated as necessity. After trying unsuccessfully to shut him up, Casey had resorted to the oldest trick in the book, nodding and tossing in the occasional "Uh huh." There were moments when he almost felt bad for the guy. Having a very pregnant, CIA trained assassin was something he would wish on no man.

"Oh crap...oh crap...oh crap...oh crap...Casey, Casey, Casey...the..the...there's no tarter sauce! No tarter sauce for the dumplings. Sarah's gonna freak." Chuck looked like he was about to blow a gasket. Speaking to himself, "Get a grip Chuck, breathe...think of your happy spot." The young man closed his eyes.

Casey stood and looked on silently. He wondered what video game or other nerdish pursuit Chuck was currently visualizing. For a moment, he considered pulling out the tarter sauce that was carefully hidden at the small of his back. Only for a moment though. Call me in the middle of the night, expect a little karmic bite in the ass. Chuck had returned from his place of nerdvana, once again stacking the tv tray for his wife.

"Maybe she won't notice." Chuck said very unconvincingly. He fixed Casey with his best puppy dog stare. "Can you come with me? She might take it better if both of us bring this to her."

Finding it hard to suppress a grin, "Sorry Chuck, I don't go on suicide missions."

Chuck's face fell and his shoulders drooped. But, with his trademark sincerity, he replied. "Thanks for everything Casey, this was really above and beyond." He disappeared down the hallway to their bedroom.

If you think Casey was going anywhere, then you haven't been paying attention. He was definitely gonna stay for the fireworks. Stepping silently closer, he listened in on the young couple.

"There's my lovely Sarah. Oh honey, you are practically glowing." Chuck cheerfully entered the room.

"For the record, it's called sweating. Cut the crap and hand it over." Sarah groused.

"Then you...uh...sweat beautifully, my love."

The ensuing silence was unfortunately all too brief. "Chuck! Where is the tarter sauce? You know I need tarter sauce for my dumplings."

"Yes, I know Sarah. It's all my fault. But, don't worry, I'll run right out and get some. Why not have something else while you wait for me to get back." Chuck was backing towards the bedroom door.

Almost whining, Sarah complained. "You know the dumplings and tarter sauce come first. I can't just skip right to the bbq pork rinds dipped in mint jelly. It won't sit well." She wallows in disappointment for only a few seconds. "Wait a minute, this was all part of your plan to get out of the house and see her. That not fat, not pregnant, grocery store bimbo."

"Now you're being silly, Sarah. There is no way Nadine is going to be working at 3 o'clock in the morning." Chuck snapped.

"Ah ha, you even know her name! Oh, I was so right about you. If I wasn't as agile as a tug boat right now, you'd be in so much trouble."

Retreating another few steps to the doorway, Chuck sighs in exasperation. "Of course I know her name. You've pointed her out to me every time we've gone shopping for the last month and a half. On my own, I would never have even noticed her. I already have the most beautiful wife in the world."

Casey was satisfied with the level of payback as he surreptitiously pressed the bottle of tarter sauce into Chuck's hand. "Semper fi." He whispered before departing the Bartowski household. Sure, he might have some fun at the moron's expense. But, he would always have his back, eventually.

A/N: Big thanks go out to MSB for invaluable advice.