|Agent Fox Mulder (i_want_2) wrote in multi_fiction,|
@ 2010-09-19 21:27:00
|Entry tags:||chuck, rated: teen, slash, superman, superman returns, x-over|
Fic: Chuck vs. The LifeTime Original Movie 5/5 Chuck/Superman Returns
Title: Chuck vs. The LifeTime Original Movie.
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck or Superman Returns.
Characters: Chuck, Shaw/Superman, Lois, Ellie
Prompt: Destitute after Stanford, Chuck is on the streets of Metropolis.
Fandom: Chuck/Superman Returns
Pairing: Chuck/Shaw (Clark-Superman)
Warnings: Language, Mentions of Sex, Violence, Bitchy Lois, Gay!Chuck.
Summary: Three days in Metropolis is a lifetime for Chuck. Especially when he finds himself caught up in a real life Damsel-in-Distress situation.
Author's Note: Pre-Chuck/Pre-Superman Returns. Surprise twist epilogue!
Chuck's head was killing him. Never in his life had hated science so much.
Glaring at his computer, he debated deleting the email he had just filled out. It would serve that arrogant prick right. Who the hell did he think he was? Oh yeah, Richard Jonas Crowley the third! "Make sure you get the third," he mimicked in a snooty voice.
Spoiled little rich bastard, that's what he was. He expected everyone to fall all over him because his daddy had lots of money.
Well, Chuck wasn't everyone. He was just the prick with a temp job and a grudge against people who felt entitled to whatever they desired. Before he knew it, the email was gone. It took him a full minute to realize he had sent it instead of deleting it like he wanted to.
Regret burned in his gut.
Setting his phone to voice mail, Chuck pulled the headset off and tossed it to the desk. He stood up with a pained groan. The shower that morning may have eased a lot of the ache from his muscles, but there was still a dull throbbing. Didn't matter though, he was getting up.
He staggered slowly back towards the visitor's lounge. It had been hell getting the special brew, but it was so worth it. He had had three cups of it himself so far. Four cups would perk him up a little more.
Feeling good, he used the wall to guide him back. It relieved some of the pressure and he was happy about that. At least the pain was good for one thing, keeping his mind off the baby elephant's trunk in the room. He snickered for a moment, but it trailed off rather quickly.
By the time he reached the lounge he was back to being annoyed. At least relief was only a few feet away now. Then he was there and all was right in the world again.
He grabbed a paper cup off the counter and added two sugars. While he was pouring in the coffee, an electronic doorbell went off over head. Whimpering, he felt like slamming his head against the counter top. Instead, he grabbed a second cup with two sugar and creamer packets.
Taking the whole lot back with him, he carefully made his way back to the front desk. It was a little faster going this time, but it also hurt more. If he ever found one Daniel Shaw again, he was going to cut the man's dick off.
Sobering up, he sighed. No, he wouldn't. He'd probably jump the man first, but afterwards, he would slap the hell out of him. As it was, he had an appointment at the free clinic after work. His blood didn't need to be tested, he had a perfectly good fluid sample. The sheets had been disgustingly stained in several places.
Coming around the corner in to the main entrance hall, he plastered on a fake smile. "Be right with you in just a second. I was just getting some coffee and brought some with me. I also have sugar and creamer packets if you want them." He ignored the woman standing in front of his desk to walk behind it and set the cups down.
Once he had them down without spilling a drop, he sighed with relief. Then he dusted off his hands and finally looked up to her. "How may I help you today?"
The woman was shorter than him by almost a full head, yet, she had enough attitude to fill the room. Stepping forward, she pulled a picture from out of nowhere and slapped it on the desk. "I'm looking for this man, have you seen him?"
Chuck stared at her for a moment, then reluctantly down at the photo. What he saw made him frown. "That's Superman, everyone's seen him." He looked back up at her to see if she was joking.
Her deadpan expression put an end to that speculation. "Don't play cute with me, princess. I want to know if you've seen him." She magically withdrew another picture from thin air to place it on his desk. This one was a face shot. "He's going by the name of Daniel Shaw. Papers indicate he works here. Now, I ask you again, have you seen him?"
Spine going straight, Chuck winced at the pain. It gave him the strength to keep from freaking out. He bit back enough to look at her with a blank expression of his own. "I am sorry, ma'am, but I am not allowed to either acknowledge or deny the names of people who may or may not be employed here."
That was the wrong response. Looming larger, she took the final step to the desk. Placing her hands on either side of the photos, she leaned over to get in his face. "Where is he, you little shit?"
Placing his own hands on the desk, Chuck stood up to his full height. He glared down at her and set his jaw. "I am sorry, ma'am, but I am going to have to ask you to leave."
She huffed. Standing back, she crossed her arms and threw her hair over her shoulder. "Do you know who I am? I'm Lois Lane and I won't be leaving until I get what I came for."
Chuck's eyes narrowed. "Wrong answer, lady." With that, he reached down and picked up the phone. At her smirk, he hit the 'one' button to dial out. Then he hit 'nine-one-one'.
Her cockiness level went down a peg, but she remained firm.
So, this was how it was going to be. She wanted a show down, he was willing to play ball.
Sitting on his little bench, Chuck tucked his hands under his arms. He quietly fumed in between glares through the bars of his cell. It should have been that bitch Lois whatever in here. Arrested for abusing the city's emergency services, of all the stupid things he had ever heard of.
Since when was calling to have a threatening trespasser removed an abuse of the system?
He growled to himself. This was just so unfair. He hadn't done anything wrong. She was the one who had threatened him. But did they even stop to listen? No!
So, he was stuck in here until his lawyer got him out. That is, if the one they had assigned him would ever show up. He had been sitting in here for the past six hours and so far, nothing.
Footsteps echoing off the cement floor drew him from his brooding. When Chuck looked up, he saw a portly officer at his cell door with his keys out.
The uniformed man put a key in the slot and turned it three times until the lock snicked. When it was done, he pulled the door open and gestured for Chuck to come out. "You get one call, sweetheart."
Chuck blanched at the term, but let it slide. It wasn't the right voice. Sighing, he stood up. The pain was but a distant memory now and he was grateful for it.
Walking out of the cell, he was careful not to move too fast. He didn't need any more bruises today. The ones on his hips, lower back, ass, thighs, and surprisingly, around his ears were enough. He didn't even want to think about those last ones. Thankfully, his hair blocked them from view.
At least he now knew how he had gotten them all. Bastard!
The officer grabbed his arm and guided him back the way he had come. At the end of the hall was a payphone, which seemed to be their destination. It proved correct when the man stopped there and pulled out two quarters. He held them out for Chuck to see, then slipped them in the slot. "You got three minutes."
He nodded his acceptance. "Thanks." Still bitter, Chuck reached for the receiver and put it to his ear. There was only one number he wanted to call. The ten digits were easy to remember, he knew them by heart after all this time.
It was picked up in the middle of the first ring. "Chuck?"
"Ellie, thank god!" Sagging with relief, Chuck leaned against the phone for support. His sigh was heavy, weighted down by so many emotions. "I've been..."
"So help me, Chuck, if you say something other than okay, I'm going to start bawling." Her voice shook with barely suppressed emotions. "Are you okay?"
Sniffing, Chuck looked back down the hall towards the cells. He had to clear his throat three times before he could speak. "No, Ellie, I'm not. I'm so far from okay at the moment."
She audibly bit back a sob. "It's all right, baby, Devon and I are on our way to come get you." She sniffed hard. "He's out now getting the tickets and a few other things."
"Thank you!" He hadn't meant to scream it, but it just came out. "Sorry. Sorry. It's just been a miserable week."
"It's okay, Chuck, we'll be there soon." Her voice had a stronger edge to it now. "We'll talk about everything when we get you home."
A shiver ran through Chuck as he swallowed hard. "Everything?"
He was seriously going to kill Morgan when he got home. His mind supplied him with all the horrible things his former best friend had probably told his sister. Before she got her chance at killing him, Morgan was definitely going down. "Great. I can't wait to see you." Chuck shivered. "By the way, bring bail money. I'm being arraigned in the morning. Bye."
He hung the phone up before she could respond.
Head down in the toilet, Chuck fought against the roiling in his gut. Whatever bug he had caught was slowly killing him. Already, he had lost two pounds from all the throwing up. Well, may be. He hadn't been able to stand up long enough to test his weight. Every time he tried, he got dizzy and threw up again.
His hands and knees were killing him. Crawling around surely hadn't hurt this much when he was a kid.
When his stomach settled down enough, he turned on his side and rest against the tile wall of their bathroom. He had been back for two weeks and had been miserable for almost every day of it. The start had been Ellie's mothering, alternating between caring big sister and she-bitch from hell.
One thing was for certain, he was never going back to Metropolis. If he ever saw the flying jerk in blue again, he was going to look for kryptonite himself! All the stories had been lies. No one ever warned him Superman was a player. That little factoid should have been in the tabloids at least!
Hand to his gut, Chuck burped from a sudden bubble of gas. When he could walk again, he was going out and stocking up on pepto.
Feeling another wave of nausea coming on, Chuck's cheeks started to burn hot. With a groan, he stuck his face in the toilet again.