Fandoms: Chuck/Sherlock (BBC)
Characters/Pairings: Chuck Bartowski, Sarah Walker, John Casey, General Beckman, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes
Spoilers: S1 for Sherlock, Vague S3 for Chuck
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
A/N: Written for tvnetwork2_las for the prompt “crack fiction.”
Summary: Chuck’s latest Intersect download has a little something extra…
“How are you feeling, Chuck?”
Chuck blinked slowly as Sarah’s voice penetrated his post-flash daze.
“A little like I went ten rounds with Mike Tyson,” Chuck groaned, clutching his head. “That was a serious download. Guess that’s why the Ring wanted it so badly.”
“You gonna puke, Bartowski?” Casey demanded, as Chuck turned slightly green.
“Not yet.” Chuck swallowed dryly as his stomach protested the lingering ache in his head. “But I reserve the right to later.”
“What?” Chuck asked.
“Chuck, I didn’t say anything,” Sarah said, looking concerned.
All of this potential and drive and you still waste so much time playing video games.
“Hey! That’s uncalled for. I’ve totally been doing my part!” Chuck protested.
“Chuck?” Casey was getting that vaguely constipated look he got when he tried to invoke an expression other than anger, annoyance, or neutral sternness. Chuck thought he might have been trying for “worried.” And if Casey was worried, then something serious was going on.
“Um…” That was all Chuck could get out after a second’s thought.
What passes for thoughts. Dear Lord, the secrets of several nations in your head and you’ve barely scraped the surface of activating it. Hmm, you do have interesting neural pathways though.
Chuck suppressed panic when he realized the sardonic voice was not coming from anywhere inside the Castle. He looked at his handlers and friends with wide eyes. “Uh guys, there’s an English dude in my head.”
Thirty minutes and some explaining later, Castle was linked to General Beckman, who was sharing her screen with a somewhat careworn, sandy-haired man with a resigned and worried expression.
“Agents, Colonel, this is Dr. John Watson, speaking on the behalf of some officials in the British government. He has the details of the unusual nature of the Intersect update you retrieved.”
“And already downloaded!” Chuck added testily, not happy that he’d crammed something into his skull that apparently had a Trojan Horse or malware or something attached to it.
Dr. Watson looked a bit pained as he started. “This is going to sound a bit mad-.”
“I’ve had a secret government computer in my head for three years. Mad is kind of a daily thing,” Chuck pointed out.
Is it now? the cultured voice said. Ah, John has arrived. Hopefully he’ll have figured out my little mishap.
“Mishap?” Chuck muttered quietly.
“Right,” Dr. Watson said on-screen. “Short version is my flatmate Sherlock is brilliant. He helps out Scotland Yard on all sorts of hard cases. Ah, he also likes to experiment with things he shouldn’t.”
John, it’s for science! the voice, Sherlock, said indignantly. Chuck rubbed his temples, his headache not going away anytime soon.
“This disk of yours was stolen from one of your couriers, and Sherlock helped get it back. Then he started fiddling with it instead of handing it right over.” Dr. Watson put up his hand to stop the inevitable protests. “He’s impossible, I know. Somehow he… transferred his consciousness to the Intersect disk.”
Casey grumped. “All our new European intel was on there and this guy was experimenting with it.”
“After that someone broke into our flat and stole it again, specifically this enemy of ours. Then you lot,” Dr. Watson waved at Team Bartowski, “stole it back before I could convince anyone I wasn’t insane for saying Sherlock was on it somehow.”
Tell John his efforts are commendable, if unfortunately straightforward. He had to go to Mycroft, didn’t he? Sherlock said.
Chuck relayed, feeling ridiculous. Beckman’s eyes widened at the name Mycroft and Dr. Watson suddenly looked wildly hopeful.
“Sherlock! Are you all right?”
Yes, I’m fine. Reassure him, Charles, before he goes into his non-panic panicking mode and ends up shooting someone.
Chuck opened his mouth, wondered how he could argue with someone in his head without looking like more of a dork than usual, and shut it again.
“Yeah, he’s here, and he’s fine and he… What?” Chuck paused to listen as Sherlock rattled off another series of requests. “Uh, he wants to know if you’re caring for his body or Molly is.” That made no sense to him, but Dr. Watson relaxed slightly.
“I am, Sherlock. You’re not technically dead!”
“Oh good, because if-,” Chuck stopped himself, figured he probably shouldn’t get into whether he would or would not have been willing to share his headspace with anyone else for the rest of his life. Dr. Watson was getting a very Casey-esque pre-violence look to him. “You know what, never mind. Just get him here or me there so I can go back to having a brain mostly to myself!”
“We’re moving you out in an hour, Agent Bartowski,” General Beckman promised.
Terrible. Ten more hours with you.
“Hey, it’s not exactly a dream come true for me either,” Chuck said.
There is the possibility, however… What do you know about James Moriarty?
Chuck felt his eyes go unfocused as he flashed, dozens of facts and photographs about an elusive criminal mastermind flooding his conscious mind.
On screen, Dr. Watson stiffened in alarm. “What’s wrong? He looks like he’s having a seizure!”
“No, that’s normal for Bartowski,” Casey said. Sarah broke in with reassurances as Sherlock broke into Chuck’s thoughts.
That was invigorating. A very efficient method for learning. What else do you have in here?
Chuck felt a bit of panic in his stomach as Sherlock began humming as he poked around in his brain.
“Sherlock, don’t try to mind-melt your host,” Dr. Watson said with weary patience.
I am not. When else am I going to have an opportunity to see this much information at once?
“Get me to London, now!” Chuck said frantically, as Sherlock found another name he wanted to know more about.
This would possibly be the longest plane ride in the history of the world.