A/N: Sorry to all two of my readers for the lack of updates on this story. I kind of got sidetracked and then almost four months had passed. So if anyone is still reading this, please enjoy! And I don't own Chuck or Bryce. Also, special thanks to PJ Murphy for the awesome beta work. Subtle improvements equal a lot of payoff.
Chapter 9: Yippee Skivvies!
Rolling onto his back did not relieve Bryce of the feeling of wet and grime working itself into his crevices. That's what I get for losing my clothes while hammered, he thought. He knew he had to open his eyes and face the horror of where he was, but there was a part of him that didn't really want to know.
With the gusto of tearing a band-aid off, he opened his eyes and jumped to his feet. He also found out that he still had a ways to go in shaking off his frat boy tendency to slink out of bed at two in the afternoon. He really needed to work on jumping out on full alert for the treacheries the spy world held for him.
He also needed to focus on what was happening. It was dark, smelly, slimy, and wet. Bryce kicked his brain through the hangover haze to get it started on analysis. With a sinking feeling of dread and disgust, he realized where he was.
How the hell did I end up in the sewer?
Feeling refreshed from the shower, Chuck stepped out and went to his suitcase. While waiting for Bryce, he had done both of their laundry, which he didn't mind since Bryce didn't have a lot left.
He pulled out the stuff that they had gotten from the convention the previous day. In addition to all the garments Chuck had gotten from Wonderbutt, Anne Alabama had slipped him another present: a pair of very chic and expensive silk boxers. He put those on the bed and took out one of the Wonderbutts. Checking to make sure no one was looking, he slipped it on. Looking in the mirror, he noticed that it gave him a very subtle lift. With that, he grabbed the boxers and put them on.
"Wow, it feels like I'm wearing nothing at all." Chuck wiggled his hips to get the full feeling of the undergarments he was wearing, indulging in the sweet pleasures of fine silk on his nether regions. Turning to the side, he checked himself in the mirror and smiled. "I guess they were right. A little lift goes a long way."
Suddenly, a team of commandos burst through the door and surrounded Chuck, massive guns pointed at him. With a shriek, he tried to cover himself with his limbs.
Behind them, a tall brunette Chuck vaguely recognized from a few nights ago stepped into the room. She went up to Chuck, pushed him on the bed, and got on top of him. To be exact, she nuzzled her knee right into his groin, placed a hand on his chest, and held a gun to his head.
"Alright, where is it?" she snarled.
"Where's what? Who are you? Can I put some clothes on first?" Chuck babbled.
She lightly pistol whipped him before putting the gun back in its place at his forehead. "My purse. It had some important information in it, and I need it back."
"Purse? Um, my friend accidently had a purse with him about two nights ago-"
Chuck didn't get a chance to finish before she pistol whipped him again. "Shut up." She turned to her compatriots. "Everyone, find the purse and let's get back. And take him with us."
Chuck watched the woman who abducted him rifle through her purse. There wasn't much he could do since he was handcuffed and still wearing just his boxers. However, he did notice that he and his captor were in a nice suite in a nice hotel. And her entourage was standing guard outside, not that he could really do anything about that. His captor's face lit up when she extracted a USB drive and held it out.
"Finally, I can get those plans to Commander Aurella and get him off my back. That has got to be the most annoying person on the planet."
"I'm happy for you and all," Chuck piped up with considerable annoyance. "But was it really necessary to kidnap me? I mean, I don't know anything, and I'm not going to tell anyone about this whole thing." Except for the CIA. "And I don't even know your name."
"It's Lucinda, and do you really think I'm that stupid? Fulcrum's been after you for a while, so I thought it would be prudent to take you in."
She paused and looked him up and down. Chuck was feeling very nervous and vulnerable. Lucinda walked over to him and ran her finger down his chest to the waistband of his boxers. Chuck gulped.
"You know," she started with a predatory look. "Hannah told me about you. (1) She said you were a lot of fun."
Chuck couldn't fight down the treacherous feeling of desire sweeping through him.
Bryce checked the ammunition in the gun he just acquired from the unconscious guard. He had barely caught sight of Chuck's abduction when he returned to the motel room. There was no time to get cleaned up from his repose in the sewer, so he quickly threw on some clothes and tailed Chuck and his kidnappers. The clothes happened to belong to Chuck, which explained why they were a little baggy on him. Bryce also hoped Chuck didn't want them back since they weren't exactly salvageable anymore.
Putting his ear to the door, Bryce listened in to what was happening in the room. It sounded like Chuck was in pain, so Bryce spared no more time in formulating a plan. With a heroic flourish, he kicked open the door and pointed the gun.
"Alright, nobody-HOLY CRAP! WHAT THE HELL?" He flung his arms over his eyes, and then peeked out at the sight.
"Bryce, dude, are you here to save me?" Chuck couldn't really do anything at this point since he was on his back and still handcuffed to the bed with Lucinda on top of him going the full cowgirl on Chuck.
"Who the hell are you?" Lucinda butted in. Amazingly, she didn't stop what she was doing to Chuck. She also managed to pull a gun out of nowhere and aim it at Bryce. Clearly the woman could multitask.
"Well, I came to save you Chuck. I woke up-"
Chuck eyed Bryce's attire with growing agitation. "Bryce, are those my clothes?"
"Uh, yeah. I was in a hurry and they were already out-" Bryce meandered off as the more lascivious parts of his mind took in the sight of the voluptuous brunette giving Chuck the full Cinemax after midnight treatment.
"What happened to you?" Chuck asked, seeing and smelling the state Bryce was in. "Did you sleep in a sewer or something?"
"You're mom," Bryce huffed.
"As much as I'd hate to interrupt this witty banter," Lucinda cut in. "We're kind of busy. So how about you turn around and let my guards take care of you."
"I already took care of your guards," Bryce sneered. "And stop screwing my friend. Chuck, what the hell were you thinking? You shouldn't be sleeping with the enemy." He took a moment to think about it. "Unless you're supposed to. Should you be sleeping with her?"
"I don't know, I'm feeling conflicted. And I think the guards woke up."
Bryce didn't have time to react before getting knocked out.
"Ugh, why do I keep waking up to a headache?" Bryce moaned. He tried to rub his head but couldn't due to the fact he was handcuffed.
"Shut up," Lucinda snarled and jabbed Bryce in the ribs with her gun. "Do anything to attract attention, and you're both dead.
Clearing the cobwebs from his head, Bryce noticed they were in a semi-crowded area. There were people lining up by some ticket booths to a county fair a ways off. Bryce, Chuck, and their captors were standing off to the side in the parking lot. They were just far enough away from the lines to the fair that nobody was paying them much mind. Except for a couple of odd and quickly averted stares from people noticing that Chuck was still just in his boxers.
"Um, how much longer do I have to stand here in my underwear?" Chuck timidly asked Lucinda.
"Can you please stop asking that and just stay quiet? I'd duct tape your mouth, but that might attract too much attention."
"More attention than me standing here nearly naked?" One of the other thugs jabbed a gun into Chuck's ribs.
Suddenly, Bryce was inspired into action. He knew enough of human behavior to realize when there was the possibility that somebody might be naked, a person's first reaction, regardless of socialization, is to look and confirm there is nudity. After that initial reaction, it is up to the person to look away, cover innocent eyes and berate the nude for not thinking of the children, or just stare and snicker at the hapless victim.
Utilizing that astute insight into human nature, Bryce instigated his plan to draw attention to their plight, take out the bad guys, and save both himself and friend. He pantsed Chuck. More accurately, he underpantsed him. (2) He accomplished this by falling to the ground and grabbing a hold of Chuck's boxers on the way down. His shout of "NAKED GUY!" certainly didn't hurt his plan, either.
"What the hell? BRYCE!" Chuck shouted as he tried to cover himself when he had his hands cuffed behind his back and his boxers down around his ankles.
The bad guys were distracted by Bryce's sudden move, Chuck's sudden full-frontal nudity, and the sudden complete attention of the crowd near the entrance to the carnival. Lucinda and her henchman couldn't do much in the way of a violent response with so many onlookers. Some people were giggling, others were looking away, and parents were covering the eyes of their kids while shooting nasty glances at Chuck. Bryce used that distraction and uncertainty to sweep the legs of Lucinda's heavies. They went down hard while Bryce got to his feet and aimed a kick at Lucinda.
As Bryce and Lucinda exchanged punches and roundhouse kicks, Chuck tried to shuffle behind a car. Bryce grabbed him and threw Chuck back into full view of the crowd. He fell to the ground and curled up on the ground in a vain attempt to disappear.
"You suck, Bryce!" Chuck yelled in justified consternation. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Sorry man, but I needed a distraction. And your distraction will hopefully attract the cops for backup! Great plan, right?" Bryce dodged an uppercut from Lucinda and retaliated with a fan kick.
"NO, THAT PLAN SUCKS! I HATE YOU!"
"Love you too, man!" Bryce gleefully shouted as Lucinda and he continued to fight. He whooped when one of the other bad guys got up and joined in.
"Come on, I really want to go to the carnival. We're already here, we might as well go," Bryce begged his fuming best friend.
"No. I just suffered one of the most humiliating moments of my life right here in front of the stupid place. I am not too keen on facing all those people again." Chuck still refused to look at Bryce.
"It's not that bad. You look great naked."
The more-than-slightly awkward moment finally got Chuck to stare at Bryce. However, the about-to-go-nuclear expression on Chuck's face was not exactly the desired effect Bryce sought.
"Look," Bryce said as he pointed at a building. "There's a magical place over there that dispenses a miracle drink that helps you forget bad moments and makes you have fun!"
"That's a bar, Bryce," Chuck deadpanned.
"And we're going to it right away! What better way to forget the day! Heh, I rhymed." With that, Bryce bodily hauled Chuck over for some liquid courage and instant memory modification.
(1) I started this fic and introduced random Fulcrum Agent Hannah in an earlier chapter. So no, this is not canon Hannah. It's a different one.
(2) Sorry, I know that was bad.