Chuck Versus Allison's Personal Life
A fanfic containing what Allison does with her free time, as well as a little about her past, something about Omnicron, and of course, a healthy measure of Charah and Callison. Translations of Spanish remarks are at the bottom. Enjoy!
"Dude, you gotta see this." Lester was staring (creepily of course) at him across the Nerd Herd desk.
"Lester, I'm busy. I really don't want to—oh" Lester shoved a handful of photos into his hands. The top one showed Allison passionately kissing a suave, handsome man at an expensive-looking restaurant.
"Lester, I will never again be fooled by your work in Photoshop again."
"This is real, man! Casey's girlfriend is stepping out on him!"
"For one thing, stepping out? Really Lester? And another thing, you told everyone that photo of you and Jessica Alba in your bedroom was real too."
"Okay, Charles, I may have fudged that a little. But this is 100% real! And I can prove it."
"You can prove this, how?"
Lester dug into his pocket and pulled out a lipstick-smeared napkin, a crumpled receipt, and another napkin with chewing gum in it.
"And this proves, what, Lester? You dug through your neighbor's trash again?"
"No. This, Charles, is proof. Her napkin that she wiped her mouth on, her date's copy of the bill, and the napkin she spit that gum she chews all the time in. It still smells like cinnamon." He took a deep whiff.
"Lester, get some help."
"Think about this one, man. Why would I make this up?"
"I dunno. To freak people out? To blackmail Allison into doing whatever you want? To get Casey to break up with her, leaving her available?"
Lester thought for a moment. "All of those are good reasons, but that isn't the point! This is real proof, man! I'll show it to someone who'll believe me!"
"And if Casey finds out—which he will—you'll be toast for stalking his girlfriend. So I don't think that this is a good idea, Lester. Casey will find out. And then they'll find your body dead in the bay somewhere." He went back to work, as Lester hurried off in another direction.
That afternoon in the castle, Chuck arrived early and was met by Allison a few minutes later. She casually pinned him against a wall, cutting off most of his ability to breathe.
"What have you seen?"
"Seen?" Chuck spluttered. "Seen what?"
"Pictures, Chuck." She didn't appear worried about the fact that those pictures had been taken at all.
"Lester's pictures? Yeah, I saw the one of you making out with some buff dude. Photoshop!"
Allison let go of him and Chuck gasped for air. "Sorry about that. People talk easier when they're surprised. Or about to be strangled. Or both." She smiled a little and sat down, pulling out her lunch. It was some sort of salad topped with chicken and salad dressing.
"Those weren't Photoshopped pictures, were they? You're really cheating on Casey!"
Allison looked at him. "Chuck, things would be so much simpler for you if you just shut up and kept your head down."
Casey trotted down the stairs, and hearing the last bit of the conversation, chuckled. "Damn straight."
Chuck glanced at Casey, then back to Allison. He opened his mouth and closed it, as Allison stared at him, one eyebrow raised, looking fairly threatening. Chuck bit his lip and said nothing. Allison ate her salad, shot a deadly look at Chuck, and left. Chuck mumbled an excuse and dashed after her. She was trying her apron and flipped the 'out to lunch' sign over as Chuck walked in.
"What do you want, Chuck?"
"You're cheating on Casey! How can you just do that?"
"We're cover-dating Chuck," Allison replied coolly, as she switched the coffee machines back on.
"But you and Casey…"
"Casey and I what, Chuck?"
Chuck leaned across the counter to look at her. "You know."
"Do I?" She poured milk into one machine and added coffee filters into another.
"Go back to work, Chuck. And mind your own business."
For the rest of the day, he couldn't look Casey in the eye, filled with guilt and the weight of what he knew. And even worse was the sick feeling in his stomach, because Casey's heart was all a game to the hot, sharp, Omnicron agent.
Allison, contrarily, had an easy day, and went home to prepare for her date. She was just sliding the finishing touch into place, when there was a knock on her door. She opened it to reveal Chuck once more.
"Chuck, I swear, if you do not leave in ten seconds, the government will no longer have to worry about keeping you safe."
"Where are you going?"
"None of your damn business. Now get out of here."
"Allison, I know that it really isn't my place to tell you this—"
"So don't. Leave, because you're down to two seconds before I either break your neck or disembowel you."
"You can't do this to Casey! I know it might not matter to you, but I've seen the way he looks at you, and you make him less grouchy, which is the Casey equivalent of happy, and you just can't do this to him! It's…it's not fair to him."
"Time's up, Chuck." She began to shut the door when his voice interrupted her.
"If you don't tell him, I will."
Allison froze, and slowly reopened the door. "No. You won't."
"I will." His voice shook as Allison stared him down.
"You have no idea how hard I can make your life, Chuck. I can make sure the rest of your life is spent in a bunker, underground, in the middle of a desert."
Chuck hesitated, because he knew she could make it happen, easily. Was he willing to give up his whole life for a man who didn't even like him? How far did his loyalty stretch?
"I know you can. And I don't care." Please don't call my bluff, please don't call my bluff.
"Okay then, Chuck. Tell him. It's your life." She shut the door.
Chuck bit his lip, took the elevator downstairs. He walked home, thinking. He owed it to Casey to tell him the truth. The man had saved his life literally dozens of times. So didn't he owe it to Casey to tell him the truth? He walked up to Casey's door and held up his fist to knock…and he hesitated. He had a better plan. He'd confront Allison on her date, when she couldn't hurt him. Smiling a little, he borrow Ellie's car keys and muttered a story about a friend needing a ride home.
Allison smiled and allowed the man she was with to run his fingers through her hair, closing her eyes halfway and leaning into the caress. He toyed with the zipper on her dress, then gently pulled it down an inch. Allison looked at him over one shoulder and smiled wanly.
"Not now, darling."
"Soon, Baby, but not now. We haven't even had dinner yet." She smiled and ran a finger across his collarbone. He smiled and leaned in to her, then pulled a knife out of his belt. He gently pressed it to her stomach.
"Hmmm, Katherine… I do believe we're in a bit of a predicament."
"Louis…what are you doing?" her voice was halted and it shook a little.
"Katie, though I'm certain that it's not your name, I am extracting information."
"Louis…what are you talking about? I don't understand." She began to inch off the bed, away from him. He pressed the knife in a little harder. The dress began to cut.
"Katie, Katie, Katie. You can't fool me."
"Louis, I-I…" and her hand flew out, knocked the knife out of his hand. He snatched her wrist and she twisted and pinned him to the bed.
"Tell me where Juan Jacopo is, Hilston. You've got until the count of three, and then I cut you into tiny pieces."
"With what knife?"
One seemingly appeared in her hand. "This one." And her sweet, innocent expression turned wicked and suddenly she was all assassin. The steel blade seemed an extension of her arm as she casually flicked it at his face, cut across one of his cheeks. It began to bleed ruby red and Allison bared her teeth at him, with a grin that was more predatory than amused.
"Where is he, Hilston? Inquiring minds want to know."
Hilston spat something at her in Spanish, to which she laughed and replied,
"Eso no es lo que dijiste anoche.*"
Her knife flashed again and was embedded in his shoulder. She grinned, then pulled a tiny pair of pliers out of her bag. She seized one of his fingernails and pulled slowly until he screamed.
"Like I said, Hilston, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."
Outside the door, Chuck winced as screams slid under the door. This was awkward…maybe he'd wait until they went to dinner. Listening in on Allison and her male friend was…he shuddered a little, creepy to say the least. It was very Jeff of him and he nearly gagged at the thought of him becoming Jeff.
Allison seized another nail and yanked.
"All you have to do is tell me where he is, Hilston. Then this can all go away."
"Dios tenga misericordia.**"
"No creo que Dios escucha a los asesinos. Pero no te preocupes. En un minute, usted puede pedir a él.***"
She drew her knife across his throat. "I've always been fond of using the jugular vein, for quick death. But you, dearest, just won't tell me what I want to know. So…the stomach I think. Very painful, having your stomach cut open. And your intestines will smell terrible. But don't worry, now. I have extra perfume."
He struggled and Allison pinched his neck, "Oooh nerve cluster. That's gotta hurt."
Allison thrust the blade into his abdomen and he gasped, bent in two.
"You see, I know he has a few other men, so you're really no use to me, Hilston. Are you now?"
She began to drag the blade through his belly and blood poured out of the wound, a scarlet Niagara Falls. He hissed in pain, too shocked even to scream. But he spat out a sentence, unintelligible.
"Oh, I love you too, darling."
He spat out the sentence again; understandable this time. "Caracas, Venezuela. He's in Caracas. Please just make it stop."
"But how can I be sure you're telling me the truth?"
He looked at her, the light in his eyes slowly beginning to wane, "Caracas…but please. The pain."
"Ah. I can fix that." She pulled a shining metal bottle out of her purse, screwed on a silencer, and outside the room, a maid passing by smiled wryly at the rowdy couple with the 'do not disturb' sign on the door. Chuck watched her pass by, moving to clean the next room.
Allison went into the bathroom, tore away the shower curtain, and wrapped the body in it. She pulled out a cell phone and dialed a long number, eighteen digits.
"Caracas, Venezuela. And Hilston is dead. I need a cleanup team here to take care of the blood."
"Excellent. We'll look in to it."
"Out." She snapped the phone shut and pulled off her dress, now covered in blood.
She cleaned herself up, pulled her long coat on, buttoned it up, turned on some pounding techno music, and opened the door to the room, locking it behind her. As she stepped outside, Chuck moved towards her.
"Allison—" he paused, eyes widening. Allison looked down at her coat and noticed the bloodstain on the front.
"Damn." She proceeded to the elevator. Chuck scampered after her.
"Allison, did you kill him?"
"I told you to stay out of it, Chuck. There are things that it's better you don't know." She unbuttoned her coat and Chuck, embarrassed, covered his eyes as she turned it inside out—it was reversible. Once she was again covered, Chuck looked at her.
"You weren't really cheating on Casey."
"Chuck, the next time you butt into my business, I will kill you. Screw the rules. Got it?"
Chuck nodded, frightened, and the elevator door chimed helpfully as it opened. He rushed out and Allison strolled after him, into the parking lot, where her car was waiting.
*That's not what you said last night.
**Lord have mercy.
***I don't think God listens to murderers. But don't worry. In a minute, you can ask him.
Hey, I'm having a bit of writers block and plot bunnies forced me to write this. It should be longer and actually delve into what Allison does when she's not working either job. More fun with the gang is promised!
Reviews please, or I feel sad and unloved.