A/N: Just a nice (I hope) Chuck shake with bits of some of my favorite movies thrown in for extra flavor. Enjoy!

Rated T to T+ for language and violence. Might go up to M on occasion.

Do I really have to repeat the disclaimers and stuff? It's like the Miranda rights. We all know them.

Chuck vs The Time Warp

Cast of characters:

The Good

Zachary Levi as Chuck Bartowski

Yvonne Strahovski as Sarah Walker

Adam Baldwin as John Casey

Joshua Gomez as Morgan Grimes

Ryan McPartlin as Devon Woodcomb

Sarah Lancaster as Ellie Bartowski

Mini Anden as Carina Miller

Scott Krinsky as Jeff Barnes

Vik Sahay as Lester Patel

Julia Ling as Anna Wu

Mark Christopher Lawrence as Michael 'Big Mike' Tucker

John Larroquette as Roan Montgomery

Bonita Fredericy as Diane Beckman

Tony Todd as Langston Graham

Jonathan Cake as Cole Barker

Matthew Bomer as Bryce Larkin

Jordana Brewster as Jill Roberts

Ivana Milicevic as Ilsa Trinchina

Tricia Helfer as Alex Forrest

Clare Carey as Kathleen McHugh-Casey

Mekenna Melvin as Alex Casey

Gary Cole as Jack Burton

Scott Bakula as Stephen Bartowski (aka Orion)

The Bad

Brandon Routh as Daniel Shaw

Michael Rooker as Erich Mauser

Arnold Vosloo as Vincent Schmitt (aka Vincent Smith)

Chevy Chase as Teo Von Roark

Vinnie Jones as Karl Stromberg

Johnny Messner as Rafe Gruber

Robert Patrick as Keller

'Stone Cold' Steve Austin as Hugo (aka Der Panzer)

And the Ugly

(Special Guest Stars)

Sean Connery as General Roy Urquhart

Clint Eastwood as Gunnery Sergeant Tom Highway

January 4th 1944, somewhere over the Pacific

Major John Alexander Casey, USMC, stretched his aching limbs and for the tenth time tried to find a more comfortable position, so that he could go back to sleep. Once again, his hand went to a pocket of his rumpled uniform and pulled out his wallet. From it he extracted a creased, cracked and faded photo. It was one of the things that had kept him alive through the Guadalcanal campaign and helped him survive the hell of Bloody Tarawa. He looked lovingly at the smiling faces of his wife Kathleen and their daughter Alex. At that moment it almost felt like he was back home holding them in his arms, instead of being in a cold, noisy, lumbering Consolidated PB2Y-3R Coronado transport flying boat. Yet, every stroke of the four faithful Pratt & Whitney R-1830 Twin Wasp radial engines, every turn of each of the four propellers, brought him that much closer to home. Slowly but surely. This happy thought was the last thing that crossed his mind before he dozed off again.

A maneuver of the plane woke him up. It had banked more steeply than usual and almost threw him from his seat. Looking out the small circular window he saw the familiar sight of the US West Coast. About damn time he thought. The trip seemed to have taken forever. Not that he hadn't tried to relieve the boredom; he had paced the length of the plane's passenger/cargo compartment several times, had played cards with the relief crew and the other passengers. A smile played across his face as he recalled that he had made an easy buck when he beat the others at poker. It was not much, they had played with dimes and quarters mostly, but it would be enough to buy a nice present for his wife and one for his daughter at the first PX he could find. No better way to spend my poker earnings, he chuckled to himself. Looking out again, he saw that the Coronado was on final approach to NAS San Diego. In fact a green flare had just been fired from the guard launch, indicating that there was nothing in the water that could tear the hull of the big flying boat open. The landing was smooth enough and soon the big aircraft was being fitted with its beaching gear by sailors in waders. The onerous task completed, the flying boat taxied up a seaplane ramp to dry land and then to its assigned parking spot. Casey gathered his belongings, said his goodbyes to the crew and the other passengers and stepped out on the tarmac. A pimply faced Marine approached him and saluted; Casey returned the salute. The young man then spoke. "Sir, excuse me, are you Major Casey, sir?"

"Yes, I am."

"Private First Class William Cartwright, sir!" the man said, "I will be your driver, sir, all the way to Camp Pendleton, sir. Let me take your baggage sir."

"Thank you, Private Cartwright. Lead the way."

"Yes, sir! Right this way, sir."

The young PFC stowed Casey's bags in the trunk of a Chevrolet sedan and then held a rear door open for the officer to enter.

"If you don't mind, Private, I'd like to ride up front."

"Suit yourself, sir," Cartwright said, moving swiftly to open the passenger side door for Casey. Soon they were on their way.

"Major, sir, would you mind me askin' you a question?" asked Cartwright while driving.

"No, not at all. Shoot."

"You are with the 8th Marines, right sir?"

"Yep."

"Do you happen to know a Sergeant Price, sir?

"Russ Price? He's a good man."

"That's the one, sir. So, it was you sir."

"Me what, Private?"

"When he got back from 'Canal, he told me of a mean sonuvabitch Major that saved his ass outta there. So, I was meaning to thank that Major, if I ever had a chance to meet him, sir. You saved my brother in law. Thank you sir."

"You are welcome. Just so you know, Sergeant Price did a great job there. That's why I put him in for a Silver Star."

"Mighty nice of you, sir."

"It's the least I could do for him. I'm sure he told you the whole story."

"Every sordid detail, sir."

"Now, I have a question for you. Why are we going to Pendleton?"

"Orders, sir."

"I see. It's just… I was ordered stateside with no clarification on where and who I'd be reporting to. I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

When they got to Camp Pendleton, PFC Cartwright dropped him off at the officers' quarters. A Corporal there explained to him that he had some time to take a shower, change, grab some breakfast at the officers' mess and get some rest before he would be taken to see the General. Casey made the most of the time available to him and he was feeling very refreshed when the Corporal came for him. The jeep ride to the headquarters building was short and sweet. Casey was shown to an office and told that the General was waiting for him. He knocked on the door and let himself in when he heard a brusque 'come in'.

He closed the door behind him and stood rigidly at attention.

"Major John Casey, reporting as ordered, sir!" he said snappily.

"At ease, Major," said the man behind the desk. He was wearing the rank of a Brigadier General. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Thank you, General, sir. That 'd be fine."

"Help yourself, Major, and take a seat. We have a lot to talk about." The general waited until Casey was seated and continued. "I see from your file that at one point you were assessed for potentially being assigned to special operations. You were apparently deemed suitable and that's why you are here today. Major, how would you like to be attached to an OSS unit?"

"The Office of Strategic Services, sir? Me, a spy?"

"Not exactly, Major. At least not in the traditional sense. From what I'm able to tell you, it appears that you will be given missions behind enemy lines. Like the British Commandos and our own Marine Raiders and Army Rangers. Only it will be with small detachments, squad sized, and the objectives will be determined by the OSS. So, are you in, Major?"

"If it will help shorten the war, yes, I'm in, General"

"I don't know how much it will shorten the war, but you can definitely help save Allied lives. A lot of them."

"I'm in, General."

"Good. Take a week off. Go see your family. You will receive your new orders on the twelfth. That will be all, Major. Dismissed. And… Congratulations, Major."

"Thank you General, Sir!" Casey saluted and left. He looked at his watch. It was 0945 hours. If he could catch a flight to Los Angeles, we would make a surprise appearance to his family in time for dinner. And he was really looking forward to that. He went to make the necessary arrangements. There was a hack flight to Los Angeles at 1400 hours. So, he still had a few hours to kill.

He wandered over parts of the sprawling camp, and he chanced upon one of the obstacle courses. He paused when he saw an instructor overseeing a platoon of recruits throw his field cap on the ground and stomp the dirt in an overt display of frustration. The man was quite familiar to Casey. As he came closer, he heard the instructor lash out at his trainees.

"You Morons have to be hands down bar none the worst batch of rookie pussies that ever set foot on those grounds," rasped the instructor in a menacing gravelly voice, "WHAT'S YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION NUMBNUTS? I'll have you know that I've killed more people, pissed more beer and fucked more pussy than the lot of you limp dicks and your daddies combined I wanna turn you into name takers and heart breakers but you ain't making it easy for me. And in turn I'm gonna be your worst nightmare. You'll come to fear me more than an entire Jap division. I-"

"After all those years, you're still using the same ol' lines, Gunny? Can't say I'm impressed," interrupted Casey. The grizzled old NCO turned and looked at the new arrival, "Platoon, officer on deck!" he bellowed and the recruits snapped to attention as he saluted Casey. The man's wrinkled face was etched in a permanent scowl, but could not hide a smile as he recognized the officer before him.

"As you were, men," Casey told the platoon and turned to the Sergeant. "Gunny Highway," he said returning the salute with a smile and extending his hand, "it's been a long time."

"Almost two years to the day, Major, sir," replied Highway returning a firm handshake.

"Y' know, Tom, you don't have to be all formal around me. You remember that you were already a veteran when I was still a wet behind the ears 2LT at Belleau Wood. So, they finally put you out to pasture, huh?"

"Could be worse. They could have retired me, if not for this fuckin' war. I ain't gettin' any younger, Major. So, what brings you here?"

"Don't know yet myself, but I got an idea at a meeting with General Dawson."

"Let me guess, sir, you're going to do special missions."

"How d' you know, Gunny?"

"I had to train some folks the General sent me."

"I see. Tom, I'd love to go down memory lane with you, but I've got to be on a flight to LA by 1400 hours. I'll just make it if I go now. Give my regards to your wife."
"You too, sir. Give Alex a kiss from me."

"Will do. See you around."

"Goodbye Major."

Casey managed to hitch a ride back to NAS San Diego in time for his flight. The Beechcraft JRB-4 covered the distance in less than an hour. Once in LA he was given a lift from the airfield to the city on an Army bus. At last he was home. He took a look at the house, his mind going back to the time he had last been there before he shipped out to join the fighting. He had promised Kathleen that he'd be back and he had kept that promise. The door was unlocked, so he went in and heard someone whistling a tune in the kitchen. Sure enough, Kathleen was there restocking the cupboards and the refrigerator. He snuck up to her, put his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She gave a surprised yelp but when she realized that her husband was back hugged him and planted a long loving kiss on his lips.

"Welcome home, honey," she said.

"I missed you Kat."

"We missed you too, John," she said and kissed him again.

"Where's Alex?"

"She's with a friend of hers studying. She'll be back shortly. But I think we have just enough time for me to show you just how much I've missed you, Sugar Bear," she said with a saucy grin. He said nothing; instead he scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to their bedroom, kissing her all the way up.

An hour and a half later, they were both back downstairs in the living room, when the door opened and Alex entered. She almost dropped her books in surprise.

"Daddy?" was all that she managed to say.

"Come here, kid," he said.

"Yes, sir!" she ran to him and gave him a big hug and was in turn lost in her father's loving embrace. He then gave them the presents he had bought for them, which they loved, and told them that he had a week off before he had to go to DC for his new assignment. They all agreed that this week would be devoted to family quality time.

Washington, DC

"Morning, angel," said the middle aged man as he entered his daughter's room carrying a small tray, "rise and shine."

"Hrrrmmmph," was the only reply from under the covers. He smiled. That girl was definitely not a morning person. He tugged at the covers and kissed her cheek.

"Daddy, let me sleep, please," she begged.

"No way. You'll be late for work missy. Besides, I've made your favorite breakfast. French toast, whipped cream, strawberries and orange juice." The girl resigned herself to her fate and sat up in bed. Her father had taken to waking her up every morning in the last two weeks, ever since she had killed her alarm clock with a well aimed throw of the hunting knife that her grandfather had left her. Blinking and rubbing the cobwebs away, she reached for the glass her father held out to her and took a long sip of the orange juice. I need coffee too, I'm not twelve anymore daddy, she thought, but said nothing

"So, what's in store for you today, Sam?" he asked her.

"A new mission, I guess. Can't say more. But don't you go all G-man on me, Special Agent Jack Burton. Dad, I mean," she said with a smile, "you'll be busy enough looking for Nazi spies in every nook and cranny as it is."

"I kinda miss the days when all I had to contend with was the mob…"

"You mean the days you had everyone, myself included, fooled into thinking that you were just a con man?"

"Your mom knew the truth. But you wanted to stick with me. At least she had your sister. I don't know… I guess she was better off with her and you with me." His eyes had a faraway look as he remembered his late wife. He loved her and their children with all his heart and it pained him that his work for the FBI caused him to miss so much of their lives.

"Daddy, there is just one thing I need to tell you, and please do not be upset."

"What is it, doll face?" he asked and she took a deep breath before answering.

"Dad, as of today Samantha Burton is no more. From now on I'll be Sarah Walker. That's a job requirement."

"Sarah Walker, huh? You chose that name?"

"Yes, I did."

"I like it. Your mother's name and my middle name. I can get used to it. Makes you feel…"

"Yes, it makes me feel that I'm still the same person."

"What about your new middle name?"

"Oh, that. I kept my own. So, Mr. Burton, meet Sarah Lisa Walker. Me!" She let out a giggle.

"Nice to meet you, miss Walker," he said. "Now, eat your breakfast, get dressed and go to work. I have to be going myself. Bye darling."

"Bye Daddy!"

Burbank, CA

"Ellie, have you seen my notes anywhere?" asked the tall gangling man with unruly brown hair.

"I think they are on the coffee table, Chuck. Look, I've got to hurry, or I'll be late for my shift at the hospital. I'll be back for dinner, little brother," replied the tall brunette.

"Great. See you then Ellie. I still have a few days till I have to go back to DC, and I want to get a chance to see Captain Awe- Devon, I mean. My job and all keeps me away for so long that I've missed you both."

After his sister left, Chuck sat on the couch and picked up a magazine. It was easy for him to relax, even though Burbank was anything but quiet these days. The brand new aircraft being test flown all the time from the sprawling Lockheed plant alone made sure of that. His thoughts turned to wondering what his new assignment would be. Having a degree in electrical engineering from Stanford University was what led him into working for the government on the development of radar equipment and electronic countermeasures. It was something that he was really good at. At times he wished that he was in uniform fighting in the Pacific or in Europe, but he reasoned that his work was just as good a contribution to the Allied cause. Sighing, he decided that for a few days he would stop thinking about work, and instead enjoy his free time with his family and friends.