Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I know that this story can't be easy to get into, so I appreciate any and all comments. I'm not sure if this chapter works or not. I feel like the situation with Sarah is almost too artificial. I'd like to know what others think.
March 22, 2008
Chuck's chin rested on the palm of his hand as he sat staring blankly at a spot on the Buy More floor. He was sitting at his station, doing everything he could think of to stay awake. It was Saturday morning and the Buy More was uncharacteristically empty. Chuck was relieved. He felt terrible, he looked terrible. When he'd woken up and looked at himself in the mirror, he'd been shocked by what he saw. His eyes were red and slightly swollen, his forehead clammy and warm, his face was pale and his skin looked lifeless, and his throat was killing him. It wasn't a hangover. Although it'd been some time since he had experienced one of those, he knew it wasn't a hangover. The alcohol he had the night before had only exacerbated the fact that he obviously wasn't feeling well. He'd taken four aspirin right there on the spot. He had been breaking out in hot and cold sweats ever since, as his building fever broke and returned at whim.
He had desperately wanted to stay home and wallow in self-loathing. Partly mortified with embarrassment over how he had acted the night before, and partly on the brink of throwing up at a moment's notice, the last place he had wanted to be was work. Work meant Jeff and Lester, it meant Big Mike attempting to impart sage, motivational wisdom (that was neither sage nor motivational, unless an appeal to increased productivity counted as motivational), it meant idiotic customers that didn't know a USB port from an Ethernet connection, and worst of all, work meant Casey. It meant he was only a few hundred feet from Sarah. It meant he'd never get any peace for what he'd done.
Okay, he was an amateur. He deserved that. Okay, he had screwed up by putting all their covers at risk. Yeah, he deserved that too. And okay, he had lost sight of the big picture. He even deserved that. But Jesus, it wasn't like Sarah or Casey hadn't done some questionable things while on mission themselves. It was not even remotely fair. He hadn't let little Chuck guide his actions and he hadn't said a single compromising word and he hadn't forgotten all about Sarah. He definitely didn't deserve that. Why couldn't they just let it go?
Chuck lifted his eyes (he couldn't lift his head) and scanned the sales floor. Casey, tall and stiff as a statue, was looming over some poor soul near the flat screens. Chuck had studied the man enough to know that he was doing his best to cover up that he was still pissed as hell and wanted to hit something (or someone). It had gone just as he predicted at the bar. Casey had grabbed him by his collar and nearly dragged him out of the hotel lobby, muttering at him in an even-keeled tone that had scared the crap out of him. He called him an idiot (along with a few other choice words) and tossed him in the backseat of the car. Then they drove back to the apartment complex, Casey glaring at him in the rearview mirror the entire way (Chuck was fairly certain Casey had only looked at the road twice for the whole trip). That had been bad enough, and he had been expecting it, but it had done noting to prepare him for Sarah's reaction.
At first, she had been Sarah. She had climbed into the backseat alongside him (it was one of the few times where they all traveled together) and had grabbed his hand. He felt frustrated and more than a little sick, and the feel of her warm hand against his had been comforting. She had pulled him close and whispered soft, unintelligible words (he probably just didn't remember them) into his ear, and rubbed his back soothingly. He had felt instantly better as soon as she started touching him, his stupidity a distant memory, Casey's actions water under the bridge, and his interaction with Eve nothing but a hazy thought hovering just beyond reach. Then they arrived home. And then Sarah became Agent Walker.
She sat him down on the foot of his bed. He wondered how he must have looked to her, his tuxedo in complete disarray, his hair wild, and his face conveying both nausea and confusion. She started to pace, arms tightly crossed in front of her chest, and her face completely unreadable. She was the cold, emotionless, detached agent that Chuck almost never saw. He was so used to her gentle words and her small smiles and her absentminded touches. He had never really experienced Agent Walker the way he was seeing her now. Even from the very beginning, before either of them knew each other, she had always shown him her softer side. Chuck was aware of things enough to know that she did this because she knew he'd respond to her better that way, but that didn't stop him from loving every moment he got to spend with her, the person he thought of as the real Sarah. Every once in a while, for a precious few seconds, he would even forget that she was not a normal girl. It was those moments that he valued most since he'd come to know her.
Chuck protested and tried to stand up, but she had quickly pushed him back down onto the bed. She shook her head at him and glared. She proceeded to chew his ass out with increasing intensity. Her voice grew louder and more accusing when she mentioned Eve. Chuck tried to tell her how sorry he was and that he hadn't done anything stupid. He had compared Eve to Lou (in retrospect, probably not a good idea) and had tried to reason that she had been okay with him dating the sandwich maker, so how was this different? She had only cut him off and insisted that it was different, but wouldn't give him a clear explanation why. Chuck knew enough at that point, even through the haze, to not argue with her further. Sarah continued to make her disappointment and displeasure with him very apparent for the next 10 minutes. Chuck hadn't felt as bad as he did that night since he'd learned the full extent of the Intersect and how his life had just effectively ended (but even then he had the benefit of meeting Sarah). Agent Walker was doing everything possible to disabuse him of the notion that she had ever been anything but a CIA agent assigned to protect the Intersect.
He had no idea why she was taking things so seriously. He had screwed up, big deal. It was certainly not the first time he'd ever messed up on a mission, and it was pretty likely that it wouldn't be the last. She had never gotten upset like this. She was acting like he had just confessed the country's most important secrets to a member of the VEVAK or Al-Queda. It was only making him feel even worse, and without a warning to Sarah, he had leapt off his bed and ran to the bathroom, throwing up in the toilet. He was in there for so long he nearly forgot about everything they'd been fighting about. He had the presence of mind to quickly brush his teeth before he reentered his room. Sarah was gone.
He stared around his room, confused and surprised. She must have been really pissed off at him to just leave without a word. That wasn't like Sarah. She walked through his bedroom door, holding a glass of water in one hand and a collection of pills in her other hand. She gave him both, told him to drink the whole glass, and then said that he needed to rest and they would continue their conversation later. Chuck was just relieved that she hadn't left him and that he could finally get some sleep. He mumbled goodnight and she was gone again.
Chuck's eyes slowly closed, his chin slipped off his hand, and he immediately jerked awake with a violent start. His limbs flailed around, knocking a stapler to the floor. He winced at the sudden pain in his hand and forlornly picked up the stapler. Falling asleep on the job was dangerous. He was setting such a bad example. At the moment, he didn't care though. Chuck looked down at his watch and perked up slightly at the time. It was about time for his lunch break. He had planned it all out on his way to work that morning. He would go on lunch, apologize first to Casey (who probably wouldn't care) and then head to Wiernerlicious to beg for forgiveness if need be.
He passed Lester on his way over to Casey and told him he was going to lunch and that he needed to man the Nerd Herd station. Lester looked at him like he had just told him to shove an iPod up his ass (Chuck blanched at the mental image that unwillingly burst into his head). Chuck stared at Lester until he started moving and then continued on his way toward Casey.
Casey was trolling the aisles, looking for potential new sales. When he caught sight of Chuck walking his way, he pulled up straight, and scowled. "What do you want, Bartowski?"
Chuck sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He tried not to look so pathetic but it was hard, Casey had that affect on him. "Uh – well, I just wanted to say sorry for last night."
"Do I look like I care if you're sorry or not?"
"Yeah, I kinda figured as much. Still, I just wanted you to know that I know I'm an idiot."
"You'll get no argument from me."
"Yeah – " Chuck just kind of trailed off, shifting his feet and stuffing his hands into his pockets. He wished there was some way he could make this better. He knew that Casey didn't care that much; he only cared to the extent that it affected the mission. And he knew that in a day or two Casey would go back to just growling at him for normal reasons, but he didn't like having the imposing agent so disappointed in him. He didn't like to admit it, but Casey's opinion mattered to him (at least most of the time). He thought it was because it was so hard to gain Casey's approval, that doing so was a true achievement.
Casey poked him hard in the upper chest. "Don't let it happen again or it'll be me that helps your drunken ass home instead of Walker."
"Right." Chuck swallowed and moved as if he was going to leave but he stopped himself at the last second. "I really am sorry. It won't happen again."
Casey groaned and pushed Chuck away from him, his voice full of gruff exasperation. "Just let it go okay? Walker will get over herself eventually." He walked away, purposefully bumping his chest into Chuck as he passed, sending Chuck careening into a shelf of discount DVD's.
He steadied himself and watched Casey stalk away, corralling a customer into his orbit near the flat screens again. Considering everything, Chuck thought that had gone rather well. The bruises he got would probably fade in only a day or two.
Chuck sucked in a deep breath and hesitantly pushed in the Wiernerlicious door. Like usual, despite it being the middle of the afternoon, there were very few actual customers in the restaurant (there was the usual complement of gawking teenage boys). Chuck had no idea how the place managed to stay in business with such few customers. As long as Sarah continued to work there, he knew that they'd at least have steady foot traffic. He couldn't help but smirk at the boys arguing and pushing each other over who got to be first in line. He remembered how he was at that age, although he could never remember being that desperate to see a beautiful woman (he might have just been repressing).
Sarah gave no indication that she had noticed him enter the store, which he thought a little odd as she usually instantly knew when he was around. It was one of the many things he found fascinating about her, her amazing ability to constantly be aware of her surroundings at all times. He moved to the back of the line and waited, a smile on his face as he watched her flit around. She had never been very good at this job, but he found it endearing that she seemed to take it so seriously sometimes. He figured it was just a part of her personality to always try and excel at whatever she was doing.
The line soon shrunk and he was standing in front of her. Her face was set in a faux smile (part of the job), but he could see how her jaw clenched and how her eyes darkened when she noticed him. "I'll have the Wiernerlicious special."
Of course Sarah wasn't fooled. "I'm working, Chuck."
"And I'm hungry." He tried to smile charmingly, his eyes pleading with her to at least give him something, anything. He absolutely hated having her mad at him. It drove him insane, it became all he could think about. He never felt right.
"Maybe you'd rather have a sandwich?"
Chuck winced and lowered his eyes to the countertop. Ouch. He was starting to realize that maybe it wasn't the drinking while on the job that had her so pissed off. But that just didn't make any sense to him. Yeah, they were friends. Wasn't that what they had agreed to? Okay, so Chuck obviously didn't think of her as just a friend, and most days, he was pretty sure that Sarah didn't see him as just a friend either. And yeah, they'd had that tense, emotional goodbye on the helipad when they'd both thought that they might never see each other again, but Chuck couldn't even hold her hand for Christ's sake. They were obviously not in a situation where they could even have a remotely normal relationship. They were permanently lodged in some confusing no mans land of 'they may have feelings for each other but have no idea what to do about it' zone. He had only talked to Eve for a few minutes and she had to know that he wasn't interested in her at all. "I'd rather eat here, actually. If I wanted a sandwich, I'd have one." Chuck began to wonder when deli products became a metaphor for his love life. His life was so weird.
Sarah softened somewhat, her fake smile becoming a little more real. "I can't talk now, Chuck."
Chuck held up a hand. "Okay, I like totally get that, and I'm not saying we should talk about everything right now. I just wanted you to know that I'm really sorry about last night. I don't know what came over me, but I know it won't happen again. I promise." He hoped she understood that it wasn't just the drinking he was talking about.
Sarah sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Look, tonight okay? We can – we'll talk more then."
Chuck beamed at her, his whole face lighting up. He actually felt a little better, like his head didn't hurt so much and he didn't mind the fact that he was still exhausted and woozy. "Thank you, Sarah."
"Chuck!" Chuck hadn't even set foot inside the Buy More before Big Mike was storming toward him. "Chuck!"
Chuck pulled up short and let his manager come to him. Could he not have even a moment's peace? He could already feel his high from seeing Sarah dissipating. "What do you need, Big Mike?"
"Where the hell have you been? I've been all over the store looking for you."
Chuck frowned and looked past Big Mike toward the Nerd Herd station. There was nobody there. "I was on my lunch break. Didn't Lester tell you?"
"You left Lester in charge of the Nerd Herd? For an hour?"
"Well – uh – well he is part of the Nerd Herd, Big Mike."
"You need to show a little more fortitude, Chuck. Sometimes we need to shorten our lunch break to make sure things get done around here. You can't expect those bozos to work without constant supervision."
"But Big Mike, didn't you tell me that I should treat my body like a temple? My temple's gotta eat."
Big Mike scowled and turned on his heel, walking toward the Nerd Herd station. Chuck followed. "I need my senior technician. That's you, Chuck."
"Did somebody call in?"
"Got a call 10 minutes ago; apparently their computers won't turn on. Idiot probably doesn't know where the power button is." Big Mike pulled up near the station and grabbed a work order sheet off the desk. "Here you go."
Chuck took the paper reluctantly, looking it over. The issue in question seemed a little below his expertise. "Why don't you send one of the other guys on this? Even Jeff could figure this one out."
"They asked for my senior Nerd Herder." As if he could see the skepticism on Chuck's face, Big Mike continued, "They recently did a big order. Gotta keep the big spenders happy, Chuck."
"But Big Mike – " How the hell would they even know the difference?
"Sometimes we gotta do stuff we don't like for the job, Chuck." Big Mike spoke like he made these kinds of grand sacrifices every day.
Chuck didn't see any point in arguing any longer. Maybe getting out of the store and doing something constructive would get his mind off of everything. He didn't relish the idea of moving a lot in his current state, but figured it had to be better than falling asleep at his desk for the next three hours. "All right."
Big Mike clapped him on the back and started to walk away. Over his shoulder he boomed, "Oh and tell Grimes to watch the desk on your way out."
When Big Mike was out of earshot, Chuck groaned and gathered his things to leave.
Note: Next chapter, we get into actual plot. Wow! And we mess with time once again. Whoa, McFly!
