Just a goofy little oneshot. This takes place the day after Thanksgiving, and the events of 2.08 "Chuck vs The Gravitron."
Chuck vs. Betty Cooper
Sarah stared out the window of her hotel room at the California sky. In the distance, an airplane grew smaller against the clouds until it vanished from sight. Sarah wondered who would be traveling the day after Thanksgiving. Workaholics? Bargain hunters? People eager to get away from their families?
Sarah sighed and shook her head. Always the cynic, she thought to herself.
Thanksgiving with the Bartowskis had been pleasant enough to distract her from the recent events with Jill. But now, alone with her thoughts, she couldn't help the raw emotions seeping back up to the surface. On one hand, she sympathized with Chuck. It couldn't have been easy to have been so emotionally manipulated. On the other hand, though, the man was an idiot.
I mean, come on.
"Don't trust her, Chuck." It wasn't like she'd hinted around at Jill's manipulative nature. Wasn't like they were sitting there having a couple beers, commiserating over relationships, and Sarah had shrugged and said, "You know, it seems to me that that ex of yours has got some ulterior motives, by golly." She looked him in the eye and told him not to trust her. And what does he go and do?
Idiot.
Sarah wondered where Jill was right now. It wouldn't be too difficult to find out where she was being held. Call in a few favors, see if she could get herself on the interrogation team; ask the others to grab a cup of coffee while she had a few words with little miss ex. Unplug the cameras, maybe even unshackle the skinny so-and-so and see what the CIA had taught her about self defense.
Sarah felt a pain in her hand and realized she had been digging her nails into her palm, almost hard enough to bleed.
It was ridiculous. She didn't used to get angry like this; not at anyone. Chuck had gotten to her, all right.
She shook her hand to get the circulation going again. Chuck. The idiot. Bad enough he wouldn't stay in the damn car on countless occasions, but this time she looked right at him, told him not to trust her. Idiot. Then, even after Jill betrays him - again - what does he call out to Sarah? "Don't hurt her." Idiot. With his idiot morals and his idiot bravery and his idiot curly hair that she couldn't keep her stupid hands out of--
Sarah smacked a palm up to her forehead. Yup. Ridiculous.
What was that comic she used to read when she was a kid? The one with the orange haired kid and the two girls, one blond and one brunette? Archie. Archie Andrews. And Archie's all crazy about Veronica, and Betty's all crazy about Archie, and Veronica keeps breaking Archie's heart and Betty's always there to pick up the pieces. So, that's what she was now. She was Betty Cooper. Blond and everything. Well, if Chuck thinks I'm going to be Betty freaking Cooper over here, running back and forth--
There was a knock at the door. Sarah crossed the room, looked through the peephole, and saw Chuck carrying a pile of plastic bowls. Perfect. She flung the door open.
"I'm not your Betty Cooper, Chuck."
The grin that had begun to form on Chuck's face died before it could really blossom into anything, changing instead to a look of bewilderment.
"Is… is that a cover name?"
"Not for me, it isn't. You got that?" Sarah poked a finger hard against Chuck's forehead for emphasis. "Can your pea-sized brain comprehend that?"
"Ow," Chuck yelped, almost dropping the bowls in his hands. "Casey? Is that your brain in Sarah's body?"
"You'd probably be better off with Casey right now," Sarah barked. "What's wrong with you? How many times did you fall for the whole 'Oh, Chuck, I'm so misguided, help me' routine? I kept count, Chuck, it was a lot." Sarah smacked Chuck on the arm.
"Hey," Chuck protested. "Hot food in plastic bowls, here."
"You can't expect me to sit and wait for you to come to your senses while you're off pining for Veronica."
Sarah stood with her arms crossed. Realization crept onto Chuck's face. His shoulders slumped a little.
"You must think I'm an idiot."
Sarah opened her mouth, but it took a moment for sound to come out. "Um… no…"
Chuck's mouth quirked up into the tiniest of smiles. "Except that you do, don't you? You were just thinking it a minute ago."
Sarah's expression softened a bit in response.
Chuck smiled sadly and lifted the tupperware bowls a bit higher. "Thanksgiving leftovers," he said. "Expertly reheated by my sister. Figured I could tempt you into having dinner with me."
Sarah's mind drifted back to the delicious dinner Ellie had prepared the night before. Her stomach betrayed her with a growl.
"Set them on the table," she said, gesturing towards the windows. "You're lucky you brought a peace offering."
"Don't I know it," Chuck said, crossing the room and setting the bowls down on the small table. "I didn't even realize the goddess was angry."
"Just got to thinking," Sarah said. "Replaying things in my head."
"That'll do it every time," Chuck said as he arranged the bowls. "Hey, maybe you should get some bonsai trees. Help you relax."
Sarah grit her teeth together, and repeated a mantra in her head: Don't kill the asset. You must not kill the asset. Many important people will be angry if you kill the asset…
Chuck removed still-warm portions of turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes from the containers and placed them on paper plates. The aroma of the food drifted over to Sarah, and her anger subsided a bit as hunger took over. She sat down as he finished setting the plates.
"There," Chuck announced. "Pathetic bachelor dinner is served." The smallest of smiles made a brief appearance on Sarah's face. She loaded up her fork and took a big bite of food, calming down as she savored it.
"Still good?" Chuck asked.
"Still," she responded through a second mouthful.
Chuck dared a grin and started eating.
"It's from Archie Andrews," Sarah finally said between bites. "The Betty Cooper thing."
"I get the reference, Sarah. You're talking to the biggest geek west of the Mississippi. It used to be the whole nation, but there's a 38 year-old guy in Poughkeepsie who still wears his retainer, and--"
"Chuck."
"Sorry. Sorry. You're not Betty Cooper. I promise."
"That's not really up to you to decide, is it? The only one who has any real control over my Betty Cooperness is me."
"Well, I guess I'm saying that I'm not asking you to be Betty Cooper."
Sarah looked at him. "Good," she replied, and focused back on her plate.
They ate in relative silence. Sarah hadn't realized how hungry she'd been. She tried not to think about how Chuck seemed to always be trying to take care of her in one way or another. She was mad at him, she reminded herself.
She looked up at to see that Chuck had dished out the remainder of the mashed potatoes into a huge pile on his plate, and had formed them into a mountain with a flat top. He made long vertical lines into the side of the food mountain with his fork, and looked up when he sensed Sarah looking at him. He cleared his throat.
"It's from 'Close Encounters,'" he said. "I do it whenever I'm around mashed potatoes."
"Maybe you should ask that guy in Poughkeepsie for a rematch," Sarah said.
Chuck laughed; a real, from-the-gut laugh that Sarah thrilled to hear. She liked when Chuck thought she was funny. He spent so much time trying to make other people laugh that it was a real coup to have that effect on him. She forced down a smile, though. She was mad at him, full stomach and geek jokes aside.
"I'm sorry," Chuck said, when his laughter finally died down. "I really am. I know you told me… you figured Jill out so far before I did, and I still didn't listen to you. And I screwed things up really good because of it."
Sarah didn't argue.
"It's just that she represented this part of my life that was untouched by everything that's happened this past year. This little bubble of normal that I was trying so hard to hold on to. And when it turned out that she was corrupt, I thought that maybe, if I could save her, then maybe there was hope that rest of my life could…"
Chuck's voice trailed off as he poked tiny holes in his potato mountain.
"Maybe there was hope that the rest of your life could go back to normal," Sarah finished for him.
Chuck nodded. He leaned forward in his chair, and stared intently at Sarah. "I didn't love her, you know."
Sarah was taken aback by that; both what he'd said and the way he'd said it with such conviction. She felt strangely relieved. Had that been what was bothering her all along?
Chuck continued. "I didn't. I loved… I don't know. The idea of her, I guess." He shifted his gaze back to his plate.
Sarah didn't know what to say; didn't know if there was anything to say. She realized she was partly responsible for Chuck's reaction. The emotional rollercoaster she'd put him on - first she's just his cover girlfriend, then she goes and kisses him at the docks, then Bryce is back, then she's overprotective about him and Lou - had taken its toll.
And then Jill comes along, this girl from his past, and he thinks that maybe he has a chance at a real relationship. One where the girl isn't holding him at arm's length because getting too close would be a risk. Maybe she could understand it, then - the things he'd done to try and save her.
Sarah felt her anger with Chuck melting away, until she wasn't even sure what she'd been angry about.
Then Chuck spoke again.
"You know, Betty Cooper's a babe. I used to think Archie was a real idiot for going after Veronica in the first place."
Sarah glared at him. Oh yeah, she thought. That.
"Chuck--"
"I'm just saying--"
"Chuck, you really need to stop talking now."
"Wait, wait. If you're Betty, and Jill's Veronica, does that make Bryce Reggie?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. She fought it. She wasn't going to give in…
"By that logic," Chuck continued, relentless, "Morgan would have to be Jughead. We'll get him a little crown to wear. It'll be adorable."
The tightness of Sarah's lips gave way to a smirk. Damn it anyway…
"That leaves Casey as Big Moose," she said, softly.
Chuck's eyes lit up. "Oh, man! That's perfect! Big Moose! You think he'll catch on if we start calling him that?"
"I think that giving Casey any kind of nickname, Archie-universe referential or otherwise, would be hazardous to your health."
"It'd be worth the risk," Chuck said, leaning back in his chair and happily licking the remnants of the mashed potatoes off his fork. Sarah smiled fondly at him.
"Some things are," she said.