Walker's Eleven
Chapter Four: Sarah the Carnivore
by Moonlight Pilot
She had never dated a nerd before, so it was an understatement to say that Sarah had no idea what to expect, even though, when Chuck had called earlier, with a breathless sort of disbelief in his voice, he had warned her what she might expect first.
She hadn't quite believed him. And now she was laughing.
"It really does!" she exclaimed, nearly clapping her hands in her amusement. "It looks just like a Tylenol gel-cap!"
"I warned you." Chuck Bartowski smiled a little ruefully as they both looked at his car. Like him, it was called a Nerd Herder, Chuck had informed Sarah. Though the car was cute, with its red and white paint job, Sarah was rather sure she preferred the human version. He had insisted, rather adorably, at meeting her in the lobby of the hotel where she'd holed up for the duration of this job, and he'd met her with flowers. She'd left them with the desk for safekeeping, but there had been just the momentary urge to bury her face in them and sniff.
Some men would have brought flowers in hopes of getting laid, but with Chuck, Sarah didn't think so. He was simply too nice. He had probably just picked up the flowers because he thought she would like them.
It made her happy that she'd harangued him into this date.
He'd cleaned up nicely, too. Not that he wasn't nice-looking to start. He had put on a button-down shirt for the night, dressy but casual, especially when paired with jeans, and the chucks she was starting to suspect were part of his uniform, on and off duty. Damn if that's not endearing about him, too.
"But yes," Chuck said now, shaking his head at his car, "this is indeed the ride of today's intrepid nerd, and the transportation of choice for tonight's extravaganza."
"Extravaganza?" Sarah echoed, laughing.
Inexplicably, a grin grew over Chuck's face. "What, you have something against extravaganzas?"
When he smiled like that, her heart beat a little faster. She laughed. "Not at all. I can't wait to see what you have planned."
"It should be interesting," he said, his words trailing off in a way that suggested nerves. If she were on the job, Sarah knew, she might have utilized that to her advantage. But right now she just found it cute. "With the Nerd Herdmobile, we'll be sure to draw stares all night, but…" He glanced almost shyly at her, sideways. "I can't guarantee it's the car they'll be staring at."
"I can't wait," Sarah repeated, and headed for the passenger side.
Chuck beat her to the door—he was quick on his chucks, she saw—and held it open for her. She smiled and inclined her head at him as she slid in. She was excited about tonight, she discovered as Chuck closed the door for her. It was the first time in a long time she had been excited about anything, which was a little depressing if she thought too deeply about it.
Less than two months, she reminded herself as Chuck climbed into the driver's seat and shot that nervous/excited/happy/disbelieving grin he did so well at her. In less than two months, she would be out of this life, sitting on a beach somewhere, or in a classroom as just another college student looking to find herself, or exploring the world. Something, anything.
But for tonight, she was excited only for the extravaganza Chuck promised. She wondered where they were going first.
It didn't surprise her that Chuck could be an interesting dinner companion. Once he got over that disconnect his brain always seemed to suffer around her—well, the disconnect that had happened three times already, so Sarah was just going to assume it was a habit—he was actually downright charming in a self-deprecating sort of way. Even so, she had no idea why he appealed to her so much. Her father would have called him a grade-A sucker and probably would have conned him four times just for the fun of it by now. Carly would have grown bored by now and either would have taken him to bed for no other reason than he was a warm body and something to do—literally—or she would have left him in the dirt and started hitting on somebody at the bar in the corner. Even Ben would have been scratching his head.
Sarah, however, just leaned forward on her elbows and toyed absently with the remains of her penne arrabiata. As a conwoman, she'd played every role under the sun. She'd even impersonated a duchess at one point. She was more used to being wined and dined in lavish style, so the quaint hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant Chuck had picked was quite a switch. But she liked the low-lit atmosphere and the red-checked tablecloths.
"So you live with your sister?" she asked.
She caught Chuck's instinctual cringe, and had to fight back the smile. He'd been hoping to slip that one right past her, she saw. "Well, yeah," Chuck said, pushing a meatball around his plate. "I live with her and her boyfriend, Captain Awesome."
"I still can't believe you call him that."
"Well, he's awesome." That slow grin spread over Chuck's face, and he shrugged. "We don't actually call him that to his face, though. And my sister—Ellie—she kind of hates the nickname."
So the Ellie Morgan had mentioned was the sister. Interesting.
"It doesn't get awkward at all, living with your sister? Bringing the ladies home?"
Chuck's laugh was automatic. "That's usually not a problem, trust me." He laughed again, but mid-syllable, his eyes widened and he looked at her almost in a panic. "You're not suggesting that—"
Sarah grinned. I never knew blushing was so cute. "Sorry, Chuck," she said. "Not on a first date."
Not that there will be a second date, even though I like this guy. Pity. She couldn't form an attachment now, not with the current con being so high-stakes, and not with her plans for Sarah Walker to disappear afterward.
"Oh." Chuck seemed to digest that for a minute.
To help him out, she took another bite of the penne and forced the sensible part of her, the one that claimed she shouldn't really be here at all, away. "So how did you come to live with your sister?" she asked. He seemed socially capable, and he had a steady job. Perhaps he just liked living with his sister, but that didn't fit with many of the guys Sarah knew. Granted, she mostly knew conmen, and if there was ever a stranger guy than a conman, she'd probably never know.
Chuck looked down, and Sarah abruptly wanted to frown. A lifelong study of body language informed her that she'd hit something of a sensitive topic.
Uh-oh.
"Uh, well, I've lived with her since I got kicked out of Stanford," Chuck said.
Definitely a sensitive topic. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want. We can change the subject."
"No, no, it's OK. It's probably better you know up front." Chuck didn't quite hide all of his wince. Had somebody been coaching him about how to act on the date? Judging from the way he had to steel himself up with a deep breath, he was about to go against orders. "I got kicked out of school five years ago because my best friend claimed I stole some tests."
He certainly didn't look like a thief, Sarah thought. But it spoke of her background that she had to ask, "And did you?"
Chuck shook his head. "I'm a nice guy," he said. "That's what everybody says. 'Chuck, yeah, he's a real nice guy. He'll fix your computer right up.' I wouldn't steal anything. I'm a law-abiding citizen. I don't speed, I pay my taxes in February, I don't even jaywalk. So I have no idea why Bryce—my friend—why he would do that."
"You didn't steal his girlfriend, did you?" Sarah asked, though she doubted it. Chuck just seemed like the nice guy he claimed to be.
"Ha. No, actually. He stole mine."
Sarah's eyebrows shot up. Seeing the move, Chuck sighed and chased the meatball around the plate again. "It's a long story," he said.
"Sounds like it. Want to talk about it?"
Chuck seemed to think about it. "Probably better if we don't. It's better if I stop depressing you into wanting to go escape through the bathroom window."
"The bathrooms have windows in this place?" Sarah pretended to look around with just enough hope to make Chuck laugh. Pleased with herself, she smiled back at him. Even with his claims, it was time to change the topic, since she didn't really want to dwell on a sore subject with Chuck. "So…is this place a favorite of yours?"
"Luigi's?" Chuck mirrored her pose, elbows on the table, hands meeting. He wrapped one hand around the opposite wrist. "Actually, funny story, believe it or not. I've been coming here since I was in high school."
"Yeah?" Though she really shouldn't, not with the carbohydrate-heavy meal of penne, Sarah broke a breadstick in half and offered the larger piece to Chuck. He took it, but fiddled with it, dragging the end through the sauce leftover from his spaghetti and meatballs.
"The owner, Luigi, he's a close family friend. He's the one that taught me how to cook. I make this amazing manicotti that would make your taste buds weep with joy." Chuck's grin practically sparkled, it was so infectious. "Luigi will probably come out here any minute to serenade us with his accordion, actually. He likes to do that whenever Ellie or I bring somebody here. He claims it adds authentic Italian charm."
"Really?" Sarah eyed the door that led to the kitchen a bit nervously. She hated having unnecessary attention drawn to herself.
When she looked back, Chuck was just sitting there with a broad grin on his face.
Sarah's mouth dropped open. "Did you just make all of that up?"
Chuck smirked and nodded.
"Oh my god!" She'd just been conned by a nice guy. She never would have believed Chuck had it in him. And it really did make her look at him in a whole new light. "So you're not close friends with the owner?"
"Me?" Chuck laughed. "I've never even been here before. A friend recommended it. I was just doing what guys do in the movies when they want to seem all romantic and mysterious."
"I'm going to have to parse everything you say from now on," Sarah decided.
"That's OK. We can talk about you instead." Chuck took a bite of the breadstick. "Tell me about yourself, Sarah Walker."
This was usually, Sarah thought, where she delivered the well-prepared cover story. Family on the east coast, sister in Maine that she was close to but never go to see, average career. Goldfish. She'd used some variation of that same story on every single date she'd been on.
Right now, though, she hesitated. And she had no idea why. Sure, Chuck was fun, and she had been more excited by the date than she had anything else but leaving the con game for the past few months. But never, never had she tripped over her back-story before.
She felt her pulse rate pick up a little, usually something it did only when she was cat burgling or lying.
She bought time with the oldest trick in the book. She leaned forward, tilted her head just so, and gave him the sultry smile, the one she had crafted with the sole purpose of raising blood pressure. "What do you want to know about me?" she asked, and deliberately ran her foot across Chuck's ankle.
He jolted and kicked the table.
OK, that was a little strong. Whoops.
"E-everything," he said after he'd taken a sip of water. "Like, um, how does a woman like yourself get into the legal industry? What's your favorite band? Artist? Writer? Where do you stand on the topic of ice cream and the controversial issue of pistachio flavors?"
"Pistachio? Ew." Sarah wrinkled her nose, grateful that Chuck's rapid-fire questions had given her at least a minute to think.
Chuck gave her a mournful look. "I don't know if this is going to work," he said regretfully.
"What? Why not?" Real alarm raced through her.
"Not liking pistachio is like the eighth deadly sin, Sarah." Chuck looked at her with mock-sadness, even as she laughed and kicked his leg, gently. "Seriously, though, how did the legal profession get lucky enough to land you as a secretary?"
"It's just a job," Sarah said, since she'd spent that day reading magazines in the office while Terrence, Scopes, and Connor had played X-Box. She hoped that would be all, but Chuck just raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to go on. She made up a lie on the spot. "My dad was a lawyer, and I started working for him when I was really young, just to make some extra money after school was over for the day. And I was good at it, so I never thought to do anything else, really."
"Interesting. So she's a lawyer's daughter." Chuck polished off the breadstick and leaned back while he chewed.
"Uh, yeah." At least, Sarah thought, Jack Burton had pretended to be a lawyer a time or two, so it wasn't completely a lie. Even so, it didn't sit right in her stomach, so she switched to a topic that, sadly, was an actual truth. "About the other stuff, well, I don't really have a favourite band or anything. I don't really listen to a lot of music. I'm not very interesting, I'm afraid."
"So that's your secret?" Chuck asked, and made Sarah's heart literally stop. "I've been sitting here all night, wondering."
She thought of all three exits she'd noticed upon entering Luigi's. Chuck was tall, but she was fast, and she could be mean if she had to get away. "About my secret?" she asked, hoping she had misheard.
"Well, yeah. I had it down to two options. I figured to myself, either she's not very interesting, or she's a cannibal, and I'm not gonna lie, I was pulling for cannibal because I'd never met one before."
When Chuck laughed a little at his own joke, Sarah's heart started again. She controlled the breath of relief instead of letting it rush out like she wanted to. "Not a cannibal," she said in a passably normal voice. "About the closest I come is being a carnivore."
"A carnivore, hm. Do you want dessert?" Chuck picked up the little flip menu at the edge of the table and rifled through it. "Hm, better not. I don't think they make any desserts with meat in them."
"And I'll blow up like a blimp if we actually have dessert. I'm OK." Sarah set the uneaten half of the breadstick on her plate. "What's next in your extravaganza, Chuck?"
"I was thinking about a little sky-diving, maybe a drive down the coast in a convertible we don't have unless we want to take a chain-saw to the Herder. At least, that was what was on the menu earlier, but now I think we need to work on this music appreciation problem of yours."
"We do?"
"Yep. C'mon."
Chuck paid the bill, and they left.
He took her dancing, which she didn't expect. Well, rather, he took her to listen to a band, and she forced him to dance. Either way, she would have pegged the date move of dinner and a movie, possibly a romantic comedy or something that Chuck would watch only because he thought she would like that sort of thing. But Chuck had pulled the pill-coloured car into a parking garage, and they had walked over to a club. Chuck had known the woman working the door ("She used to live in my apartment complex."), so they had walked right in.
Chuck had seemed perfectly content to sit, simply listening to the music. Sarah had had other ideas in mind. She'd pulled him onto the dance floor. Maybe it was mean on her part. Chuck had danced like a fish out of water, or a board, stiffly with jerking elbows. Even so, she'd had a good time, dancing up against Chuck, pressing close to him because the crowd and lack of space demanded it. Feeling his heart pound, even as her own pulse sped from the proximity. She'd tortured them both, but after a few minutes of looking dazed, Chuck had loosened up. Perhaps the Sleigh Bells weren't quite to her musical tastes, but she'd had so much fun dancing with Chuck that she hardly cared.
When he pulled into the parking lot of her hotel, she was still riding high on the endorphins from the dance. In the driver's seat, he seemed more relaxed, like he was less terrified of her, too. She smiled at him, until he pulled into a parking spot.
The date was officially almost over.
"You don't have to walk me up," she said.
"Are you kidding? Ellie will kill me if I don't walk you into the lobby, at least."
Sarah pushed open the passenger door before Chuck could come around the car and open the door for her. Not that she didn't appreciate a bit of chivalry now and again, but she was quite capable of working her own door. She linked her arm through his as they strolled through the parking lot, both pleased that he didn't even tense and surprisingly sad.
Why couldn't she have met Chuck, Sarah thought desperately as they headed toward the lobby, when she was settled, after this job? When she had established her new identity, and could be just a girl meeting a slightly nerdy, nice guy? Of course, she had been planning to run as far from California as she could get, as memories like Jenny Burton still existed there, but LA was a big city. She could lose herself here, maybe find herself with a guy like Chuck, or with Chuck herself.
"What's the matter?" Chuck asked, breaking into her train of thought.
She immediately cleared her expression. "What?"
"You looked really…forlorn there for a second." Chuck cocked his head, squinting a bit as he studied her. They walked through the sliding glass doors. "Wait a second, you're not sad that the date's over, are you?"
"No." Though she was, Sarah made herself give him a strange look. "I was thinking about work."
"Uh-huh." Chuck smirked. "I think you're sad tonight's over. Admit it, you had a good time."
That was easy enough. Sarah leaned in just a little, one of her favorite things to do, even as she steered them toward the hallway that led to the elevators. She would say good-bye to Chuck there. "Chuck?"
"Yeah?"
"I had a good time. Best extravaganza I've had in a long time."
Again, that slow, happy smile, the one that came over his face in phases. "I knew it."
They reached the elevators. Even though it wasn't terribly late—a little after midnight or so—the lobby and the hallway had been abandoned. Sarah turned to Chuck. "This is where I leave you," she said, trying to keep a surprising amount of depression out of her voice.
"Oh. Uh, well." Chuck glanced at the wall of elevators and then back at her. He extended a hand toward her. "I had a fantastic time tonight."
Really? After all of that he was going to give her a handshake? Of course, maybe it's better this way, to end it cleanly. That way, when I have to avoid his phone calls later, neither of us will be too depressed.
Oh, to hell with it.
She ignored the hand Chuck held out, put her hands on either side of his face, and pulled him down to kiss him.
MP's Note: I'd like to thank my mate Ethan for his recommendation of Sleigh Bells as the band Sarah and Chuck dance to. I hope everybody liked the date and that Sarah's conflicts made sense. I borrowed some lines from the Pilot to make it work. Is everybody ready for the plot to unfold?
Disclaimer: It's not mine. I'm not making any money here, please don't sue me, as school bills are bad enough without legal issues.
