Itsy Bitsy Spider (Chuck) *Casey/OC*

02. Casey vs. The Hot Latina

Loren peered closely into the reflective surface in front of her, a pair of deep brown eyes staring back as she carefully applied eyeliner and mascara in turn. She then massaged an everyday moisturiser into her cheeks. Being an outdoorsy girl was good for a tan, but too much sun wasn't great for her skin in the long run.

Pushing her cosmetics kit aside, she set to work scraping her short hair back into smooth lines, leaving the bangs to fall free about her face. She then attached long black extensions, sliding them in as close to her scalp as she could before the pain became an ongoing distraction. Once they were safely in place, with no detectable difference from her own hair, she pulled the synthetic piece up into a high, no-nonsense ponytail.

She surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. She looked like a regular woman - smart, tidy and who took pride in her appearance. Her peplum skirt and short-cut blazer hid the gun holster and twin knife sheaths nicely. For the final touch, she slid an extra pop-up blade inside one of her ankle boots and then attached another to the underwire of her bra, just to be safe. You could never have too many knives.

"I hope you're proud, daddy," she told the mirror dryly. "All dressed up and armed to the teeth. I think I'm ready to meet my new boyfriend."

XXX

Chuck held the phone at arm's length from his ear as he doodled absently on a notepad in front of him, confident that the unnecessarily irate customer was still ranting away without pause from the nasal drone he could hear buzzing through the earpiece. He'd never been much of an artist, but his attempt at Pacman was at least recognisable for what it was. He couldn't say the same for his dog, elephant or Sonic the hedgehog.

Morgan Grimes, Chuck's colleague and childhood best friend, halted as he caught site of Chuck's bored look and unusual method of conversing over the phone from a distance. "Are you still speaking to Big-Mouth?" he whispered, amazed.

Chuck discreetly covered the speaker with his free hand. "Thirty-six minutes now. And counting."

"Ouch." Morgan made a face. "Stay strong, man."

Chuck saluted him as his friend continued on his way to harass a leggy redheaded customer, who was studying the display of headphones. He reluctantly returned the phone to his ear and waited for even the slightest pause so that he could force a response of his own into the so far one-sided conversation. In the end, he just had to cut across her completely. He could feel his brain cells in danger of dying off one by one. Plus his notepad was getting seriously overcrowded.

"Ma'am, like I said, we need to determine the problem with your computer before we can decide if you need anything replacing and if we even have the right spare parts for you. But we can't do any of that over the phone."

But still the customer couldn't seem to grasp that the Nerd Herders would need to see the computer for themselves to know what was wrong with it. She ended up hanging up after another bout of complaining over the unhelpfulness of the staff, all because she was too lazy to bring her computer into the Buy More.

As the line went dead, Chuck smacked the receiver several times against his forehead in a dull rhythm. Sometimes he really, really hated working in retail. The customer was not always right. Not by a long shot.

"You know, they say that is the magic technique for fixing electronics..."

Chuck lowered the receiver to see a pretty Latina woman standing at the counter, watching him with raised, perfectly shaped eyebrows. "Trick of the trade," he replied. "Like blowing into old game cartridges."