“There were, in that part of the country known as Southern California, geeks, abiding in the city of Los Angeles.
“And when twenty-three days of the month of July had been accomplished, they did mount up on the Pontiac G6 that did belong to the one known as Eleanor Bartowski, and the Porsche Boxster that did belong to the one known as Sarah Walker, and they did embark upon a journey to the city of San Diego.
“For lo, in those waning days of July, the organization known as Comic-Con International did host in the city of San Diego a convention, known as Comic-Con, which was to be to all people.
“And when these geeks had heard the good word of Comic-Con, they went henceforth to San Diego, in order that they might see this thing that had come to pass.
“And when they came up on the city of San Diego, they found the Comic-Con –“
“I swear to God, if you say ‘wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger,’ you’re going straight to hell, Chuck.”
“- wrapped in shiny paper and lying in the San Diego Convention Center, just as the Internet had foretold.”
Sarah Walker rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know, Chuck, if you’re going to commit blasphemy, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do it in my car, so that when God decides to smite you, I’m not collateral damage.”
Chuck Bartowski’s face took on a look of mock innocence. “Blasphemy? ME? Never! How could you say such a thing?”
Sarah tried very hard not to smile, and found herself failing. “I will admit, the fact that you were able to take that whole passage of Scripture and turn it into something completely different just off-the-cuff like that WAS pretty impressive.”
She stopped, and re-evaluated.
“Actually, no. I take that back. It was just further proof of how big a nerd you are.”
“I’M a nerd?” Chuck protested. “At least I told you who I’m dressing up as tomorrow!”
“Hey, if Casey isn’t going to tell, then I’m not going to tell, either.”
The fact that Casey was along was a small miracle in and of itself – or at least, that’s what everybody thought except for Casey himself. The reality of the situation was that when General Beckman had heard that the whole group was going to Comic-Con, she’d nearly hit the roof, and ordered Casey to go with them, an order with which Casey had very grudgingly complied.
As far as that first night went, different members of the little group had different plans. Chuck, Morgan, and Devin were going to the preview session – Ed Brubaker, the comic-book writer who had killed off Captain America, was going to be doing a special Q&A that night. Ellie and Sarah planned to go down to the Gaslamp Quarter and find a nice wine bar or two. Casey had already made clear his intentions to go over to NAS North Island and visit the shooting range.
“Lame,” Chuck had complained, rolling his eyes.
That was the thing about Comic-Con, though – Chuck, Morgan, and Devin were all huge comic book nerds, and they had gone every year since Chuck had gotten the boot from Stanford. After all, Chuck needed somebody to go to Comic-Con at that point, since he then despised Bryce Larkin.
It was one of the highlights of Chuck’s year, and while it would probably not make the top three this year, like it did most years, he was still getting visibly excited as the San Diego Marriott – the hotel connected to the convention center, the hotel where the CIA had managed to get them rooms – came into view.
“Calm down, Chuck,” Sarah said, a note of amusement in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I just can’t help it.”
He practically cheered with glee when they walked into the lobby and he saw the “Welcome Comic-Con” banner. Sarah was pleased to see that he at least restrained himself to simply sharing high-fives with Devin and Morgan.
Six hours later, when Sarah and Ellie returned to the hotel from their Gaslamp Quarter adventures – both of them a little tipsy – they found Chuck, Devin, and Morgan having a passionate argument about whether or not Christopher Nolan based Batman Begins and The Dark Knight on the “Batman: Year One” comics.
“He has made it quite clear that he didn’t,” Chuck insisted.
“But look at the elements, Chuck,” Morgan replied. “Almost every subtle plot detail from Batman Begins shows up in one of the Year One books!”
“He’s right, Chuckster,” Devin said, taking Morgan’s side.
“Plot details do not mean that Batman Begins equals Year One!” Chuck practically shouted back.
“Boys, boys, boys,” Ellie giggled, the wine talking JUST a bit. “It’s not THAT important, is it?”
The three looked at her like she’d just said the pledge of allegiance to Osama Bin Laden. “You have no idea, babe,” Devin practically growled.
“Well, then, why don’t you take me up to the room and… explain it to me,” she said.
Devin’s eyes widened. “Uh… gents… shall we continue this discussion, say, over breakfast?”
Morgan looked lost, but Chuck just nodded. “Night, Devin.”
As Ellie practically dragged Devin out of the lobby, Morgan turned to look at Chuck. “Wow. That was awfully… um, suggestive.”
“Yes, well,” Chuck replied. “Alcohol, and all that. Now, seriously. I still don’t think that Year One –“
“Chuck,” Sarah interrupted him. “I don’t think you’d want Devin to miss any of this discussion, would you?”
Chuck didn’t get the hint. “Sarah, I can’t just go to bed and leave this issue hanging.”
Sarah sighed. Leaning over, she whispered something in Chuck’s ear. His eyes widened.
“Well… THAT was virtually unspeakable,” he said. “Uh, Morgan, I gotta go…”
Chuck practically ran out of the lobby, a giggling and tipsy Sarah trailing in his wake.
Morgan was left by himself in the lobby. “Lame,” he muttered.
Standing, he too headed for the elevators. “Guess I’ll go see what the hotel has on the pay channels.”
The next morning, when the alarm clock went off, Sarah practically launched herself out of bed, and before Chuck had even oriented himself to the fact that he was no longer asleep, she was in the bathroom, her duffel bag with her.
“What the heck…” he muttered.
He shook his head. “She must REALLY want this to be a surprise.”
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and hitting the “start” button on the coffee maker, he stepped in front of the sink. He brushed his teeth, then looked at his face. He consciously made the decision not to shave, and then got out the heavy duty gel.
“This is going to require some serious glue to keep this style,” he said to himself. Loading his hands up with the gel, he rubbed it through his hair until it was practically coated in the gel. Then, with a comb, he styled it until it was JUST perfect.
Turning to the closet, he pulled out his outfit. The brown cargo shirt went on first, followed by the rather tight tan pants. Next was the strap-up black boots and the leather gun belt, with an Airsoft revolver in the holster. The final touch was the brown suede full-length overcoat.
Chuck stepped in front of the mirror and looked himself up and down. “Nathan Fillion, eat your heart out,” he mused, quite pleased with how he looked.
Then the door clicked open. He turned to see Sarah step out –
Her hair was pulled back in a very tight bun, and she was wearing what amounted to a skin-tight metallic purple one-piece outfit. She was wearing short black boots –
“No WAY,” Chuck gasped, but his thoughts were confirmed as Sarah attached a Starfleet emblem just above her left breast.
She looked at him, then cocked an eyebrow. “Greetings, Captain Reynolds,” she monotoned. “I am Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One.”
Chuck shook his head, a huge, almost teenage grin appearing on his face. “I do not believe it. You, a Trekkie?!”
Sarah broke character. “Yeah, I was a huge Voyager fan when I was in high school,” she admitted. “Hard to believe, I know.”
There was a knock on the door. Chuck pulled it open to discover Morgan standing there.
Morgan’s eyes practically bugged out of his head when he saw Sarah. “Holy…”
Sarah looked at him, going back to the monotone. “Is there a problem, uh…”
She broke character as she realized she had no idea who he was supposed to be. “Who are you supposed to be, Morgan?”
Chuck looked at her with a have you lost your mind sort of look. “He’s dressed in the uniform of the Gotham City Police Department, he has chief’s insignia, and the name on his uniform is ‘Gordon’. He is OBVIOUSLY Commissioner Jim Gordon!”
Sarah held up her hands in surrender. “So-rry!”
At that moment, Ellie and Devin made their entrance. “Whoa!” Devin exclaimed when he saw Sarah. Ellie gave him a look, then smacked him in the back of the head.
Chuck studied them. “You know, I almost feel like I know who you’re supposed to be, but I’m not quite sure…”
His voice trailed off as Sarah began to mock him. “Well, Ellie’s dyed her hair blonde, Devin has somehow managed to look angsty and brooding, and they’re both wearing Sunnydale High School t-shirts. I’d say it’s pretty clear that they’re Buffy Summers and Angel.”
Chuck rolled his eyes, but moved on. “So where’s Casey?”
“Haven’t seen him,” Morgan replied. “We’re gonna be late, though. He can catch up.”
It wasn’t long till they found Casey, though. In fact, when their elevator reached the lobby, and the door opened, there he was –
Wearing a royal blue button down shirt, black slacks with suspenders, black quicklace boots, an oversized Bluetooth earpiece, and a World War II era navy blue greatcoat with United States Army Air Corps markings.
Chuck and Morgan both started laughing uproariously, while the other three looked at them like they’d lost their minds.
“What the hell is your problem, Bartowski?” Casey asked testily.
“I’m sorry, Casey, I’m so sorry, I just never thought I’d see the day when you’d dress up like Captain Jack Harkness,” Chuck replied, trying not to choke as he laughed.
“What’s wrong with that?” Casey asked. “First of all, the Bluetooth earpiece is functional, secondly, so is the gun, thirdly, Captain Harkness is pretty much a badass who likes to shoot his gun off a lot.”
“Casey, he also has sex with men,” Morgan said.
Casey’s eyes went wide. Ellie nodded. “And the Republican in you comes out to play,” she muttered.
The look on Casey’s face went from one of determination to one of defeat. “Hell,” he groaned, “does this mean that I’m going to be followed around by fanboys all day?”
Chuck tried not to smile, and failed miserably. “Probably,” he laughed.
Casey bit back a growl, then pulled the gun out of his holster and swapped it with Chuck’s Airsoft gun.
“The hell?!” Chuck asked.
“If I don’t have a real gun, I can’t SHOOT any of them.”
By seven o’clock that evening, the whole group of them was exhausted. Devin and Ellie had gone off to take several “naps” – “Naps, my ass,” Morgan had muttered, a little bit of the green monster still coming out to play.
Sarah and Casey had both ended up being followed around by groups of guys all day. However, they were very different groups of guys. Sarah’s was mostly made up of nerdy older teenagers and guys in their younger twenties, dressed in Starfleet uniforms. Casey’s was a pretty motley crew, though.
“Would somebody tell me exactly who I have following me NOW?” he demanded at one point.
Chuck turned around, did a quick count, and turned back to report. “Looks like you’ve got three Ianto Joneses – those are the guys in the three piece suits – four Doctor number Tens – those are the guys in the brown pinstripe suits – and one Doctor number Nine – the guy in the black leather.”
Casey growled, and then without warning, pulled the Airsoft gun from his holster, whirling to aim it at the crowd following him. With shrieks of fear, they all scattered, save for one of the Ianto Jones impersonators.
Or was he? “Wait a second,” Chuck whispered, as the man approached.
“That’s not a real gun,” he commented, walking toward John Casey. He had a distinctive Welsh accent. “By the way, my name’s Gareth David-Lloyd. I play Ianto Jones on Torchwood, and I just wanted to compliment you on just how much you managed to make yourself look like Jack Harkness.”
“Uh, thanks,” Casey muttered, holstering the Airsoft. David-Lloyd turned his attention to Sarah.
“I have to say,” he remarked, “were I ten years younger, I probably would’ve been in that other group of guys – the one that’s been following you around, and every so often, one of them gets the courage to come up and take their picture with you.”
Chuck turned to look at Sarah – and was shocked to see that she seemed to be totally captivated by David-Lloyd.
“Uh… would you like to take your picture with me?” she said, almost shyly.
His eyebrows went up, and then he smiled. “Why not.”
Sarah dug in her purse, coming up with her digital camera, which she handed to Casey. He stepped back, and Gareth David-Lloyd stood beside Sarah, putting his arm around her waist. She giggled as he did so, and then Casey took the picture.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered, turning almost into a fangirl before Chuck’s very eyes.
Well, that was quite enough. “We should probably move along,” he said loudly. “We’re supposed to be meeting Ellie and Awesome, and I’m SURE Mr. David-Lloyd has other commitments.”
“Sadly, yes,” he said. “I have to meet John Barrowman and Eve Myles for dinner in about twenty minutes. But, it was a pleasure to meet you, Ms…”
“Walker,” she practically giggled. “Sarah Walker.”
Gareth David-Lloyd took her hand in his own, and lifted it to his lips, which he lightly brushed against her hand. “An absolute pleasure.”
Sarah was speechless as he walked away. Casey looked over at Chuck and saw the disgusted look on his face.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Bartowski,” he said. “Are you going to stand there and tell me that you wouldn’t react the same way if, let’s say, Kristen Bell came up and introduced herself to you?”
And strangely enough, Chuck got just that opportunity later on when he turned a corner and almost ran Kristen Bell over. When she recovered from almost being trampled, she practically squee’d at what she called “the sexiest transport captain in the gorram ‘verse” and demanded a picture with Chuck.
“Okay, now we’re even,” Chuck admitted to Sarah as they walked away. She just smiled and leaned in close, whispering something in his ear again.
He blushed bright red. “Okay, seriously, you’ve got to stop saying those things to me in public.” His voice was a little bit louder than he intended due to his embarrassment, and it stopped Casey, Morgan, Ellie, and Devin in their tracks.
“What did she say, Chuck?” Morgan wanted to know.
Chuck got even redder, if that was possible. “Um… well you see, what she said was…”
And then, grabbing Sarah’s wrist, he turned and made a break for it. Sarah, though a little surprised, seemed to be prepared for this eventuality, and took off after him.
“Bye!” she called over her shoulder as she ran down the convention center floor with Chuck.
The remaining days of Comic-Con were a blast. On the third day, Sarah insisted that Chuck dress up as Mal Reynolds again. The reason for that, to his surprise, was that she’d gone to The Buff up in Pacific Beach and managed to assemble for herself an outfit that, with dyed brown hair, actually made her look like a dead ringer for Inara Serra.
That had led to some things in their hotel room that the rest of the group definitely never, ever needed to know about.
The following Monday, Chuck was just about to leave for work when Morgan climbed in through the window. “Morning, Chuck,” he said.
“Morning, Morgan.”
Morgan looked around the room, and spotted the photo on the wall. “Hey, this is a pretty kickass picture,” he said, looking at the framed eight-by-ten. “You as Mal Reynolds, Sarah as Seven of Nine, me as Jim Gordon, Devin and Ellie as Angel and Buffy, and Casey as Jack Harkness? We look like one hell of a crew.”
“Yeah, but I like this one better,” Chuck said, opening his wallet and tossing it to Morgan.
Morgan snatched it out of mid-air and looked at the photo. “You and Sarah as Mal and Inara? Yeah. Wow, actually…”
He looked up at his best friend. “You guys actually look really good together. You must…”
The words came hard. It was almost like letting go of something. “You must really be in love with each other.”
Chuck nodded. “Yeah, Morgan. We are. In fact…”
He paused, as if carefully considering his words. But, if he couldn’t be candid with Morgan, he couldn’t be candid with anybody.
“I’m gonna ask her to marry me.”
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