(icon by me - available to good homes so long as I am credited)
Author: Green Owl
Pairing: John + Ellie = JELLIE!
Word Count: 1,200
Timeline: Post-"Chuck Vs. The Marlin"
Rating: PG (Casey swears a little in his head)
Summary: You know what they say about the way to a man's heart...
Casey scowled as he shut the refrigerator door and resisted the urge to slam his fist into the wall.
He was up to his ears in paperwork, so hungry that he was about ready to gnaw his own leg off and jonesing like a junkie for a sandwich, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing in his apartment that would taste anything but completely repulsive between his last two slices of Wonderbread.
His Royal Majesty Queen Victoria had died a horrible fiery death due to fuck-a-duck Chuck Bartowski and the replacement vehicle he had been assigned by the NSA was a hideous shade of vomit-colored green that Casey flat-out refused to drive unless it was absolutely necessary.
And no, a lack of provisions does not qualify as “absolutely necessary”, Casey determined as he pulled on his socks and laced up his sneakers, mentally fortifying himself for the two-mile trek to the nearest store that stocked his favorite brand of peanut butter.
He exited the apartment, locked the door and was in the process of pocketing his keys when he heard someone making a series of very feminine “oof!” noises behind him.
“Hi, John,” Ellie called, trying her best to balance four grocery bags and open the door to the apartment she shared with her brother at the same time.
“Hey, let me help you with that,” he said, crossing to her and reaching for two of the bags.
Much as he barely tolerated the male product of Mr. and Mrs. Bartowski’s 1979 makin’ bacon bash, he actually liked Ellie. She was smart, sweet and one hell of a good cook.
Just the kind of fine, upstanding American woman he didn’t mind giving up his personal life to serve.
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” she said, making her way to the kitchen. “Could you put those down on the table?”
“Sure thing,” he said, following her and placing the groceries where she indicated.
He caught a glimpse of something familiar in one of the bags and his eyes went wide. He plunged his hand in and pulled out a jar of Naturally More peanut butter, holding it aloft as if it were the Holy Grail.
“Oh, that goes in the cabinet above the toaster,” Ellie advised as she put away the frozen food.
Casey brought the jar close to his nose, his eyes drifting shut as he caught the barest whiff of the contents.
“Hungry?” Ellie asked as she put away the rest of the food, grinning as she watched him salivate.
“Oh yeah,” he murmured, gazing tenderly at the jar.
His vacant stomach chose that very moment to execute a growl worthy of the Big Bad Wolf.
“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be right with you,” she said as she gently guided him to a chair.
Casey snapped out of his reverie right at the moment she took the peanut butter from him. “Hey! What the - ?”
“Shhh,” Ellie said, putting a finger to her lips, her bright blue eyes glowing like backlit star sapphires. “Can you hold out for another three minutes?”
He nodded, his eyes fixated on her hands as she retrieved a plate, a knife and a glass. She opened a package of potato bread and selected two slices – from the middle, bless her cotton socks! – and placed them on the plate before retrieving a carton of milk and a jar of apple jelly from the refrigerator.
“Would you open this for me?” she asked, handing him the jelly. “Devon always screws the cap on too tight.”
Casey wordlessly took the jar from her, barely putting any effort into taking the lid off of it as he watched her pour a tall serving of milk into the glass. He handed the jar back to her and she placed it to the side of the plate.
She then opened the jar of Naturally More and Casey wiped his mouth with his wrist as she spread a thick layer of peanut butter over the potato bread.
He almost moaned as she dexterously scraped the blade of the knife along the lip of the container, the scent of roasted peanuts teasing his tongue and filling his nostrils.
He couldn’t decide if this was heaven or hell, but he knew she was some form of celestial goddess as she carefully spread the perfect amount of jelly over the other slice of bread.
Ellie placed the knife on the edge of the plate and folded the two slathered slices together, matching the edges with precision. She then looked at him over her shoulder as she picked up the knife again. “Sagittal or diagonal?”
“Huh?” His mind was too clouded with thoughts of “want” and “that” and “now, please!” to understand her question.
“Definitely diagonal,” she said as she returned her attention to the sandwich and deftly sliced it from corner to corner.
Casey’s eyes glazed over as she reached past him to pluck a napkin from the holder and place it next to his right arm. He wondered if he was hallucinating the invisible choir of angels that sang in four-part harmony as she placed the plate and the glass in front of him. She smelled almost as good as the peanut butter...
He eagerly picked up the “bottom” half of the sandwich and was about to sink his teeth into it when she hollered, “Hold it!”
His hands stilled, the sandwich millimeters from his mouth, tempting his tastebuds unbearably with the promise of oral paradise.
He would break for sure if the enemy ever tried this kind of torture, Casey thought, holding very still as Ellie flipped open the napkin and tucked it into his shirt.
“Okay,” she said, patting him on the shoulder, “Now you can eat.”
It was the most superlative combination of tastes and textures he’d ever experienced, from the precise balance between the smooth peanut butter and light, crisp jelly to the rich denseness of the potato bread to the creamy compliment of the milk – 2 percent, just the way he liked it.
“Feel better?” Ellie asked, her dimples dancing as she watched him chew.
Casey nodded mutely before he took another bite of her rapture-inducing effort.
“Good,” she said, winking at him. “I know how men get when they’re hungry.”
She put the milk, bread and jelly back in the refrigerator before tackling the rest of the dry goods, leaving Casey to munch and remind himself of the many, many reasons he loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
If not for the mouth-sealing properties of Naturally More, he might have done something incredibly stupid like blurt out his undying love for her – her, um, culinary skills, that is.
He allowed himself a brief chuckle for seriously considering proposing marriage for the first time in his life.
Hell, she might be the sister of his mark, but the woman had mad gastronomic skills.
The only thing keeping him from compromising his pride and dignity was the harsh glint of the rock on her left hand.
And too damn nice for a burnt-out agent who could be bought for the price of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
For sunshineali, who asked, "pretty, please", for J/ELLIE fic.