asphaltcowgrrl | Failure to Communicate (Reply)

Title: Failure to Communicate
Pairing: Wes/Travis post-love potion hijinks, Chuck crossover featuring Chuck/Casey
Rating: PG, I think
Word Count: 4800 words, give or take
Warnings: Foul mouths, dork-ness of epic proportions, character ruining (sorry Casey)
Beta: The man in the moon... (aka none, all bad grammar is totally my fault)
Concrit: asphaltcowgrrl@aol.com
Spoilers: None

Author’s note:

This started out oh, so innocently. Chatting with a friend, skyesurfer12, on two subjects we both enjoy... Chuck and Common Law. So what happens when you suddenly begin to realize hey - my characters are an awful lot like your characters! What if... yeah. Famous last words.

And the fact that she had already threatened her boys with therapy only added fuel to the fire.

Her words:

The friendly challenge to each other: A cross-over. Chuck and Common Law. Four boys. A group. A therapist. Blend well. Wait for it.

Now what happens when Casey meets Wes?

And thus, the reason I've called you all here, today...

Her part is an off-shoot of Redemption Trilogy (starting here) but you should be okay without it, too. But if you have the time? And you love Chuck - or just really well-written, intense slashy stories, you should make the time to read it. Really.

And the best part: her response to the challenge is here: http://skyesurfer12.livejournal.com/45674.html

(My apologies to the Chuck fans... I loved the show, watched it faithfully, almost religiously, but I'm not quite sure I got them right... go easy, k?)

Now, on to the main feature...

~*~

“Having not said anything the first time, it was somehow even more difficult to broach the subject the second time around.” ― Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

“It’s not my fault we’re running late.” Wes was furious at Travis’ inability to take anything seriously. Like it or not, they were stuck with these wingnuts and these sessions for the duration.

“Oh, so this is all my fault then?”

Travis wasn’t much happier, to say the least. It drove him insane that every time they were late for something, anything, it was always his fault. He may have instigated it this time, but as Wes was so fond of reminding him, he did not have to follow through on Travis’ every whim. So, why should he be forced to shoulder the blame this time when Wes could have very easily just gotten out of bed like he’d threatened.

Wes stopped just outside the door to the group’s meeting room. “Yes, it is your fault! You knew better than to keep doing… what you were doing and I even asked you to stop but… you wouldn’t!”

“I thought you liked it when I nibbled on all that pale ass skin of yours.” A grin formed at the memory of a handful of red marks dotting his lover’s skin.

“I do,” he growled, feeling the desire rising in him again. “But, you also know that I can’t help myself when you touch me like that. And now we’re late because you needed…”

“We’re here,” Travis interrupted. “And if you get any louder, they’ll all know our business.”

Not that Travis really cared if the entire world knew they’d just rolled out of bed, much to the contrary, he’d tell them all if he had the chance. But Wes would care. Oh, he cared a lot and Travis knew that he was more upset by the fact he didn’t have time for a shower after than the fact that he’d gotten coaxed into an impromptu session of steamy sex. Travis grinned again, broadly. No, he was relatively certain that Wes wasn’t upset about the extra round of spontaneous combustion at all. The shower, however…

“Fine,” Wes ground out.

He was unwilling to give Travis credit for being right because the fact was, these strangers already knew entirely too much of their business. Especially after the fiasco that was their last session. Even Travis had agreed that more than he’d expected had come out in that escapade. He pushed through the doors and into the Room of Distress, as he’d begun to think of it. Travis pushed past him and stopped, suddenly and without warning. Still absorbed in their previous discussion, Wes walked straight into the back of his partner.

“Travis, you just can’t stop—.” But Travis wasn’t listening. He’d instead fixed his eyes on what appeared to be the newest addition to their therapy group.

“Guys,” Travis began, plastering his most charming smile on his face, “I see you are new here so I’ll excuse your ignorance this time, but you’re in our spots.”

Dr. Ryan covered her mouth with one hand, attempting to hide the smile blossoming on her face. She’d known that one of the detectives would say something about the seating arrangements, she just hadn’t thought it would be Travis. Her bet had been on Wes. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Dumont and Clyde discreetly exchanging money. Apparently, Mr. Dumont had been in agreement with her instincts, and for that, he was now out what looked like twenty bucks.

Wes reached out to pull Travis over to the empty seats next to Dakota and her verbally battered husband, but he was roughly shaken off. "Travis," he warned.

"It's cool, I've got this." He turned to the new couple - an adorable gawky kid with a head of tousled curls and an older guy without the ability to smile, or so it seemed - and gestured to the empty seats Wes had spotted. "There are two empty spots right there."

The big bear of a man looked up, readying to say something uncomplimentary, Travis assumed. The scrawny kid next to him placed one hand on the angry man's arm and he frowned, but remained silent.

"We're sorry," the kid said. "We didn't realize. Come on, John, let's move over --"

Wes stopped him. "No. Sit. My partner here’s an idiot."

The larger man - John, he reminded himself - grunted in amusement. "I know the feeling," he muttered, winning himself a scowl from his partner.

They're a real couple, he thought idly. Interesting. "Travis. Over here. Now."

He sat beside Dakota and waited for Travis to end the staring contest with the human brick wall. Eventually, he let it go and reluctantly sat beside Wes, occasionally tossing glares at the other side of the room. Dr. Ryan caught his eye and he could do nothing but shake his head. After all, who the hell could predict what Travis Marks was going to do next?

A pair of coffee colored eyes met his from across the circle. Wes smiled back, unable to resist the kid’s natural charm. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, apologizing for Travis, for a reason he couldn’t fathom.

The kid smiled back, causing the detective’s heart to skip a beat. He cocked his head to the side, pointing at the man beside him. The slight shrug, combined with the sheepish smiled seemed to say, “It’s all good, I know what you’re dealing with.” Or, at least, that’s what Wes took it to mean. Whatever the truth, the kid appeared at ease and completely unruffled.

That’s not going to last long, Wes told himself. He watched Dr. Ryan gather her thoughts and look around the room. She was preparing to launch into her first ridiculous exercise of the session, he could tell by the look on her face. He’ll want to flee the minute his boyfriend is expected to share his feelings.

He must’ve laughed because he saw Travis shift position out of the corner of his eye. Warm, moist air brushed his ear suddenly.

“Life more amusing from this side of the circle, buttercup?”

“Oh, life’s more amusing than you can ever know with you at my side.” He threw Travis a wink and attempted to concentrate on whatever Dr. Ryan was spewing forth.

Maybe this could be interesting, he confessed to himself.

“It’s important to make sure that we’re talking with each other in a way that heals, not in a way that wounds." - Barack Obama, 44th U.S. President

“Today, as you can see, we have two new members to our group. Please welcome Chuck and John.” Dr. Ryan looked around as the group introduced themselves, with the exception of Wes and Travis. Somehow, she wasn’t very surprised that these two would be the most reluctant to welcome someone new into the fold. Wes, she figured, was being his usual self, watching and deciding. Travis, on the other hand, was probably still upset over having to sit somewhere other than in his normal spot.

“Our first exercise today is going to be feelings-based,” she looked at Wes as she said this, knowing he’d give her the best scowl, but she was rather stunned to find new member John Casey giving as good as Wes normally did. Ah, so we have another one, it seems. “What I want you to do is look at your partner and tell them three reasons why you love them.”

“But I don’t love him, Dr. Ryan,” Wes protested immediately.

Travis looked the other way, pretending not to care what hurtful words Wes spouted. Despite Travis’ confession on the morning after, Wes had still failed to even come close to returning the favor. He had, however, eased up on the constant criticism. While it wasn’t quite what he was looking for, Travis would take it, for now. Until he could coax something better out of his partner.

“Wait a minute,” Rozelle interjected before Dr. Ryan could. “You’re telling us that you don’t love your partner? Not at all?” Wes shook his head vehemently at the mere idea of being in love with Travis. Ludicrous. “So, you make it a habit of sleeping with all of your partners then?”

“Well, no, but…” She lifted one perfectly plucked eyebrow and watched him flounder. “There were extenuating circumstances and…”

“Mmm-hmmm. Right. Extenuating circumstances. Love potion, my ass.”

Wes gave up. He knew when he was out numbered and, if he didn’t shut up soon, the other women in the group would gang up on him eventually. “How about I just don’t know, Rozelle. Will that make you happy?” That much was the truth, anyway. Unsure of his feelings for Travis was putting it mildly.

She smirked, victorious. He shook his head, not quite sure what to make of these women sometimes. Wes looked up and met the melted chocolate eyes of the new guy – Chuck, his name was – again. He had a sympathetic smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. He’s been there, where I am right now. I wonder what their story is?

“I – I can start,” he suggested into the room. It was now his partner’s turn to glare at him. Being more than used to it, Chuck ignored him. “I love you, John.”

“Very good, Chuck,” Dr. Ryan said. “Now, tell the group a few of the reasons why you love your partner.”

The larger man rolled his eyes. Barrel arms crossed against his chest, he leaned back and eyed his partner. “This ought to be good.”

Chuck grinned, lighting up the room with a brilliant show of white teeth. “Well, first he’s um… protective. Yeah, I think that’s a good word for what he is.”

Casey grunted. “Protective, Bartowski, really? Maybe if you weren’t always getting your scrawny ass into…”

“Boys?” Dr. Ryan tried to hide her amusement. They were more like Wes and Travis than she had expected, but this one, John Casey, seemed a bit more dangerous than either of her detectives.

“On task,” Chuck muttered, mostly to himself. “Right. Stay on task. Um, what else? He’s reliable and he’s… sturdy.” His eyes flicked to the man next to him and he grinned even more broadly. “He’s very sturdy.”

“See Travis? Chuck appreciates a reliable partner. Why can’t you?” Dr. Ryan shot a warning look in Wes’ direction and he swallowed. “Sorry. Please continue.” He’d made his point, there was no shame in allowing the other couple to continue.

“Chuck, those are all admirable traits and ones we all want in a partner.” She motioned to the large man beside him. “John, what do you have to add to this? What are your reasons for staying in a relationship with Chuck?”

Casey frowned and glared around the circle. “I’m not doing this,” he muttered. “You and your stupid sister.”

“Hey now,” Chuck protested, “leave Ellie out of this, okay? And come on, you said you’d behave for me tonight.”

Casey made an unhappy sound. “You’re going to pay for this later, kid.”

Chuck shrugged noncommittally. He’d figured as much. He pushed, Casey pulled. It was how they worked.

“Eh, why’s the nerd so special? I don’t know.” He looked sideways at Chuck for a minute before continuing. “He’s bright, almost too smart for his own damn good.” Casey sat back, satisfied he’d praised the nerd-boy to the high heavens. Completely ignoring Dr. Ryan’s call for a round of three things.

Dr. Ryan watched him for a moment. Observed the way the younger man took in a deep breath and then sighed it out loudly. Apparently, Chuck was used to this kind of dismissal. “Anything else, John? Like maybe he’s very tidy or is a good cook?”

Casey snorted loudly at the idea of Chuck being either tidy or able to cook. “He’s really good with a game controller,” he scoffed. “Can’t handle a real weapon to save his life, however.”

“That’s not what you said la…” Chuck’s retort stalled out when he felt an icy blue gaze fall on him. “Never mind.”

“That’s what I thought.” Casey gave the room a smug smile and thunked Chuck on the back of the head for good measure.

“Oh-kay,” Dr. Ryan said, looking around the circle. “Who’s next? Dakota?”

“Oh, I’ve got this one, Dr. Ryan.”

Wes’ attention was jerked from the new couple to the man sitting – no, lounging – beside him. “What are you doing?”

Travis leaned forward, smiling. “I’m about to tell everyone why I looooove you sooo much,” he squeaked out. “And you’re going to sit there and listen.”

“No,” he said, lifting both hands into the air, palms out. “I most certainly will not."

“Why?”

This came from across the room. From the dorky little kid with the big ass boyfriend. “Because,” Wes started, standing so that he could prepare to flee, “he can’t be serious about anything and honestly, I’m afraid to hear what’s about to come out of his mouth.”

“You see, this is why nobody likes you, man.” Travis threw his hands into the air and sat back heavily. “Can’t you just trust me, even a little?”

“Wes, I think you need to sit back down and hear him out.”

He faced Dr. Ryan, angrily. “But you know how he is. You all know how he is!”

“True,” Dakota interjected, “but look at him.” She indicated Travis with a hand. “He’s hurt, I really think he was being serious this time.”

“I don’t know either of you,” Chuck stated slowly, “but, I have to agree with her. Why don’t you give him five minutes?”

He stared at those pleading brown eyes that reminded him so much of another pair of pleading eyes, ones that were blue and clear as the summer sky. Wes was trapped and he knew it. He’d promised Travis that he’d try and so far, he’d failed at that. Trouble was, he had no idea where to start trying.

“Fine,” he grunted, sitting back down beside his partner. “You two are peas in a pod, you know that? Using those big, bright smiles and puppy dog eyes to get what you want.” Wes lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if looking for otherworldly support. “It’s just not fair. What’s a guy to do?”

“Amen to that,” Mr. Dumont chimed in.

“Bartowski’s got a Ph. D. in using those god damned innocent eyes on people,” John Casey offered up. “One of these days it’s gonna get him shot. And shot again, just for good measure.”

Knowing he wasn’t alone in the battle against Boys with Big Eyes and Bigger Smiles, Wes relaxed a smidgen. Patting his partner on the knee, he sighed. “Okay Travis, I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“’Bout damn time,” he teased. “Look, the things I love about my partner, Wes, are also the things that drive me insane about him, too. He’s meticulous. He’s precise. He’s an arrogant ass.” Travis paused to take in the look of shock on the blonde’s face before continuing on. “But, those things, as much as I hate them at times, are what make him such a good cop. And if he wasn’t such a good cop, I wouldn’t be here, with him.”

Wes was stunned. First, because Travis admitted to appreciating all his ‘annoying qualities’ as he often called them. Secondly, and more than anything, he was shocked at the fact that Travis Marks had managed to be serious for two whole minutes. A new record.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Tell me you loooooooove me, that you want to daaaaate me.”

Aaaaaand… we are back to reality. Wes put his hand across his face, hiding his gaze from Travis’ adorable you-know-its-true grin that he found so hard to resist at times like this. “How about I say ‘shut up or I’ll shoot you’ instead?”

“Same difference,” Casey grumbled.

A burst of laughter escaped Chuck’s scrawny frame. “In our house, yeah, it sure is.”

Wes was beginning to believe he just might like these two.

A man has a property in his opinions and the free communication of them. -- James Madison

“Wes, Travis just paid you a very nice compliment, do you have anything you want to add to this discussion?”

Slowly, he shook his head. He was a touch flabbergasted by the fact Travis respected any part of him, let alone these things. Travis’ words had unlocked something within him however. The idea that the things that made you most crazy could also be the things that drew you to that person in the first place was a revelation. What he was going to do with this revelation was unclear, but he knew he had to focus on it soon.

“I… I’d love to, but I just can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” This from the big guy across the room.

Wes looked up and met the man’s icy blue eyes. Reflected within, he saw himself. Withdrawn, reserved, cautious. But more, too. Devotion, dedication, a certain level of disgust which, he only had to assume, was due to his current situation. His body language screamed, I dare you, and that made him smile. Always on the defensive, ready to pounce, to protect, to defend. His earlier comment regarding two peas was insanely more appropriate in this moment.

“I’ll admit, I’m a jerk when it comes to talking about things that make me uncomfortable. And most times, well, I’ll just walk away. Refuse. But this time, for once, I just can’t find the words.” Fingertips found his eyes, rubbing slowly, giving him a second to think. To phrase his next thoughts into coherent sentences. “Travis here, he surprised me a minute ago. And I thought I’d heard it all from him, but I guess not. I’m dumbfounded and don’t know how to respond.”

“They like to surprise you,” Casey said into the quiet room, “don’t they? Think they’re doing you a big damn favor.” He grunted and sat back. One leg crossed over the other. “This one here,” he began, pointing at Chuck. The kid shrank back slightly out of self defense and years of learning just how to get out of arm’s reach in a matter of seconds. “This one has me on my toes. Always getting into trouble. Hell, just always finding trouble. Taking his sister’s advice, for the love of all things shiny.”

“That’s very interesting, John,” Dr. Ryan said, once she was certain he was finished. “What kind of advice of his sister’s did he take that has you so angry?”

Casey looked at the woman is if it should be obvious. “We’re here aren’t we? I should make him ride home in the trunk for even agreeing to this.”

“John,” Chuck teased, “you promised no more small, dark spaces.”

“Heh. I’d promised that if you behaved, and have you? No. Again: we’re here.”

“Hey man, its one visit. It can’t hurt, right?” Travis was the master of making things seem less horrible than they really were. “We’re here until we get our heads out of our asses.”

“Who suckered you into coming?” The big man was leaning forward again, listening, it seemed.

“Our captain,” Wes responded, swallowing his pride. “I pulled my gun on Travis and apparently, that’s frowned upon in the LAPD.”

“Nice,” Casey replied. “He deserved it, too. Didn’t he?”

The big guy looked eager to hear that he had deserved it. Laughter bubbled out of Wes, bringing a broad smile to his face. “At the time, I sure as hell thought so. Going on and on and never shutting up.”

He looked at the man beside him, studying him, watching him. He’d been at his breaking point that day anyway. Alex had been on his ass about every little thing all week. They were being pressured to just solve the damn case already without so much as a single solid lead. And so much more that he couldn’t even begin to bring up here and now. When Travis started in on him about how he should shut up and listen for a change, to stop being such a prick, to just… yeah. He’d snapped. Lost it completely and pulled his gun, threatening the life of the best friend he’d ever managed to acquire. Which wasn’t exactly a compliment to Travis, because his real friends had been few and far between over the years, but he’d never say so. Even Wes the asshole knew when too much was simply too much.

“I’ve come to understand,” he said, squeezing Travis’ knee playfully, “that he can’t help himself. He’s missing a filter or there’s a faulty synapse in his brain or something, but once he gets started on a crazy idea? The best you can do is sit down, shut up, and hang on or he’s going to lose you somewhere between here and wherever the hell he’s headed. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating, but it is who he is.”

The room was silent. For anyone else in the group to have made such a revelation, there would have been applause, whistles, and cheers echoing off the walls. But Wes? He’d stymied them all with what he just said. It was slowly becoming obvious that the detective with the heart of ice actually had emotions. Wes despised the knowledge that this was how they all saw him, but he also knew it was how he put himself out there, too.

But sometimes it was just so hard to make yourself vulnerable.

“Aww man,” Travis teased, leaning in to bump Wes’ shoulder with his own, “you really do love me after all.”

Dakota giggled, quickly covering her mouth with one hand. It didn’t help, it in fact made it worse. Before long, everyone was laughing and giggling, including Dr. Ryan. The kid with the unruly hair was grinning at him, leaning against his tank of a boyfriend. The tank, on the other hand, wasn’t showing a thing. He gave Wes a nod so minute, he almost thought he imagined it. But he knew he hadn’t. I wonder if tonight will have any impact on their relationship. Will they be better or worse or just the same when they walk out those doors? He’d never know because he was relatively certain that he’d never see either of them again.

But tonight had had a huge impact on him.

And, all things considered, that came as quite a shock.

We have normality. I repeat, we have normality. Anything you still can't cope with is therefore your own problem. -- Douglas Adams

“Well, that was certainly interesting,” Travis teased as they approached the front of the building. “Where’d all the nice come from?”

His partner frowned at him, tempted to bite back with a sarcastic reply before catching himself. “You are such a pain in my ass sometimes, do you know that?”

“Of course I know it, why do you think I do it?”

“Because you like to make me crazy,” Wes ventured.

“Uh-uh,” Travis said, wagging a finger at Wes, “you even said it yourself – I can’t help myself, right?”

Stopping abruptly, he closed his eyes and counted to ten before turning to face Travis. “That is not what I meant and you know it. Especially since we both know you’re doing this on purpose.”

He couldn’t help but smirk. “Okay, you’re right. I’m baiting you. But, in my defense, you make it way too easy.”

“And you wonder why I tried to shoot you? Really Travis.”

Travis laughed. Sliding his arm through his partner’s, he used it to pull Wes closer to him. He stumbled, bumped into the solid form of his lover, and righted himself.

“You are an eternal thorn in my side.”

“But you like it,” he joked back, hoping he hadn’t pushed too far, again.

“Yeah, what the hell? You’re right. I do like it.” He squeezed Travis’ arm against his side in an effort to help convince them both. “And besides, do you have any idea how boring my days would be without someone to argue with?”

“And get frustrated with?”

“That too,” he agreed.

“Are you angry or frustrated with me right now?”

“No more than usual, why?” Odd questions like that always put Wes on high alert where Travis was concerned.

“No reason,” he evaded. “How about dinner? We never got a chance to eat before.”

“And whose fault was that?”

“Not mine. How am I to blame if you can’t control yourself?” He scuttled out of Wes’ grip and jogged to the car, grinning.

“Oh, I’m tempted to show you loss of control here in about three seconds. Pick something to eat before I smack you.”

“Okay, okay, I give! How about that pizza joint you’ve pointed out? And before you start harping on me about ‘healthy eating’ remember that you’ve been the one feeding me for the last four days. I haven’t seen red meat in a week.”

Travis climbed into the passenger seat of Wes’ car, buckling in. Wes watched him climb in before moving towards the driver’s side. He paused, one hand on the hood, and leaned inside. Travis looked up from where he was, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Wes hesitated for a moment, opening and then closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Just say it, okay?

“You do know that you… matter, right? To me?”

His blue eyes caught the dimming light and reflected it back at Travis. The intensity in his stare was unnerving, nearly as much as his admission had been. I matter? To Wes? It was probably the closest thing he was going to get to a declaration of love, but it was enough. To matter to someone was a big thing. It was a definite step in the right direction.

“Yeah man, I know. Even when you don’t say.”

One corner of Wes’ mouth crooked up in a half-smile. “And you know this how?”

“Because you haven’t tossed me out on my ear,” he said. “Oh, and because you didn’t shoot me that day, no matter how much that look in your eyes said you wanted to.”

“Good enough.” He climbed into the car and started the engine. “So, pizza?”

“Yeah, pizza. Extra cheese. Lots of bad, fattening meat and very few vegetables.”

Wes shook his head in defeat. “If you say so, Travis.”

“I do.”

~*~

Chuck stopped Casey just outside the community center building with a hand to his arm. Casey stared at the hand that dared touch him, but stopped his forward progression anyway. He waited.

“Yes, Bartowski? Feel the need for some fro-yo now that we’ve shared our girly-feelings with the world?”

“Fro? Oh, yes, I mean, no. I have ice cream at the apartment but…”

“Point?”

“Right. That was um, a very nice thing you did in there.”

“Eh?” He was focused on forgetting what had just happened behind those doors and moving on to more athletic endeavors. The kind of endeavors that took place at home. In private.

“What you said to that blonde cop. Letting him know you understood what he… what?” Casey’s face was unreadable at the best of times, but now it was as if he was written in Cyrillic or kanji or something. While this was cause for concern, it wasn’t nearly enough to stop the speeding train that was Chuck’s mouth. “What did I do now?”

“Drop it.”

“But…”

“I said…”

“I know, I know,” Chuck conceded, not willing to pick a fight in public. “But still. Nice job.”

“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that, Chuck. Any of it. Got it?” He threw in a menacing glare, just to be sure the kid got the hint. As if he could miss it.

“Sure thing, pumpkin.”

Casey growled, causing Chuck to cackle with glee. Sometimes it was entirely too easy to ruffle Casey’s feathers. And, to be honest, it was utterly too much fun, too. Chuck was an expert. He knew from experience just what to do or say. A pet name, an offhand suggestion, the smallest display of personal affection at the most inappropriate time. It didn’t take much.

What he also knew from experience was that from now until the fourteenth of never, he had to be on his guard because Casey would be certain to take every opportunity to pay him back in spades for this little escapade tonight. It wouldn’t be tonight, and it might not be tomorrow, but Casey would get his payback. But it was okay. He knew what to expect. And that was okay, too.

The thing Chuck had come to learn about Casey – and relationships in general – is that communication isn’t always about the words you say. It’s about your looks, your actions, your being there when the other needs you to be. It was all the unspoken cues, the nonverbal support, and so much more that you don’t even understand until it’s no longer there.

So while Casey might be short on words, he was long on action. And so far, it had worked for them. They understood each other and really, wasn’t that what counted in the end?