Chuck Versus the HalloWeekend
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: Two years after Stanford and his ex-girlfriend shoved Chuck Bartowski under a bus, his friends try to pull him out of his funk by forcing him to go with them to a ghost walk event the night before Halloween. But then their ghostly Victorian tour guide turns out to be more interesting than a dead specter has any right to be...
A/N: I couldn't help it. I just couldn't. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK and I'm not making money from this story.
He felt the nudge at his back but didn't move.
A few seconds passed… another nudge.
"Dude. Come on."
The nudge was a little harder this time.
And he thought maybe he could outlast his best friend. If he played dead long enough, Morgan Grimes would crawl back through his special door and leave him alone for the rest of the holiday weekend. And all would be well.
The real trick would be playing dead long enough for this to work tomorrow when Ellie expected him to join in on the Halloween festivities in the courtyard. He didn't want to do that, either.
"You can't just stay like this forever, man."
Chuck really wanted to say, "Yes I can", or something even more snarky, like, "Watch me do it", but that meant he'd have to be alive to speak, so he continued to play dead. He wasn't undead, or alive again. He was just dead.
Dead meant no talking. No moving. If he was playing undead, he'd be groaning or making really disgusting undead sounds. Spitting blood or whatever. And alive again had a lot of different implications he didn't feel like dealing with. Would he rise up from his bed as Phoenix and murder everybody?
That actually sounded kinda fun.
He's start with Morgan for roping him into this stupid thing tonight in the first place.
"If you don't get up from this bed right now and come with me and Anna to the Ghostpo Park Walk, I'm just going to assume that you hate me, Chuck."
Damn it.
He'd been his friend for too long not to know this trick. The one thing that Chuck hated more than anything was being disliked, hated. And that also included other people thinking he hated them, especially when it was someone he loved. And even though he knew Morgan was utilizing one of his age old tactics on him, he couldn't risk that Morgan thought he hated him even a little bit, so he groaned and rolled onto his back in time to see his best friend do a celebratory fist pump.
"Why are you such a pain in my ass?" he half-whined.
"Yeah, join the club."
Chuck's eyes snapped open and he craned his neck to look over at his bedroom window, aka the Morgan Door. Anna lounged on the windowsill—
"Oh FUCK!"
He pushed himself to sit up and scrambled back a bit on his bed, startled by her face. Or, rather, not her face. Anna Wu typically had a very pretty face, a face he'd gotten used to in the last few years they'd been coworkers and he'd been her supervisor. This wasn't her face.
Instead, her mouth took up half of said face, a black gaping hole with long, sharp teeth that dripped with blood. It was a perpetual terrifying smile that turned up clownishly on each side, red and raw at the edges.
But the purple outfit with the black leather underneath, the matching gloves, and the purple and black boots that went all the way up past her knees clued him in. Finally.
Chuck pointed at her and slowly climbed up to his feet. "Wait. Oh my God. The crazy pointy scary teeth mouth thing. The purple, that crazy sharp knife. Is that really? Actually, never mind, it doesn't matter. Mileena, I bow to you." He got down on his knees in front of her and bowed reverently.
Anna giggled. "You're both such dumbasses. Morgie did the same dorky shit."
"Maybe don't look so fuggin' hot all the time, babe," Morgan said with a shrug.
"How is this hot? I'm supposed to be freaky. Mileena is the scariest character in Mortal Kombat. And a badass." She gestured to her makeup and Chuck shivered, climbing to his full height again. "This is fucking terrifying. I'm scary, not hot."
Chuck held his hands up. "Well, you scared the shit outta me. I'd prefer not to get bitten by that."
"She teleports first, then bites," Morgan breathed reverently.
"I use this to gut you before you even know what's happening." Anna twirled her sai skillfully in her hand.
"Brute strength, speed, agility…the perfect woman."
"Okay, you have issues, dude," Chuck muttered to his best friend. "Calm down a little. It's creepy."
"Right. Ahem. Noted."
Shaking his head, Chuck went to his closet to grab his jacket. "For the record, I'm really not excited about this. I wanted to wrap myself up in a blanket, curl into a fetal position in my bed, and think about all the wrongs everyone has done me, and then top it all off with a few really terrible memories about all of the embarrassing shit I've said and done in my twenty-four years of life. All while listening to Tracy Chapman. And this is royally ruining my plans."
"Holy shit, you're depressing," Anna said while fixing one of her high pigtails in the mirror and smiling at herself. The teeth were seriously freaky.
"All the more reason to get you out of here and into Exposition Park where all the ghouls and zombies will scare you shitless. Maybe some dude popping out of a casket will scare all of your bad feelings right outta you…" Morgan said helpfully, patting him on the shoulder.
"If this bullshit could get scared outta me, Morgs, I'd just pop that demo of Jeff and Lester's music they passed out last year into my CD player and whoosh, it'd be gone before they even got to the first chorus."
Anna snorted. "That's true," she said over her shoulder, fixing the other pigtail.
"Dude, where's your costume?" Morgan asked, yanking on his Link costume's tunic. He'd even slapped a messy yellow wig onto his head. Fake pointy ears popped out from it, flanking that Robin Hoodesque green pointed hat.
"Oh this?" He looked down at his jeans and black band T-shirt. He pointed to the band in the middle. "I'm going as a fan of The Hives."
"Laaaame," Anna droned.
"Dude. That is so lame. At least add a little blood coming from your mouth and you can be a vampire fan of The Hives."
"No. This is all you're getting."
Morgan made a frustrated sound. But before he could say anything else, Anna slapped a hand down on his shoulder. "Morgiez, take the win. He's fine. Let's just get outta here. I don't want to miss the ballet part at the beginning of the tour."
"There's ballet? Oh hell yes!" Morgan hopped once and grabbed Chuck's arm. "Come on. Let's go. You're driving, Anna."
"Yeah, no duh. I'm the only one with a car."
"I have a bike."
"Technically, the Herder is my car. All of them. So I have, like, four cars."
"Jesus Christ," Anna snapped as she led the way to the window. She stopped when neither of them followed her. And then she turned back and looked at them. "What?"
"Anna, we're going through the apartment."
"Using an actual door?" Chuck chimed in, shrugging. He exchanged a look with Morgan. "Through the window…." He snorted.
Morgan shook his head. "Shut and lock the window, babe."
Anna rolled her eyes at them, and turned to shut and lock the window. "There. Happy?"
Morgan slung his arm around Chuck and they walked out into the hallway.
"Through the window. She's so weird," Morgan muttered, shaking his head.
"The window. Ha!"
"Fuck you both," she growled behind them.
}o{
Chuck outstretched his hand and locked his elbow so that Morgan would bounce off of it instead of slamming into him the way he otherwise might've. And he watched out of the corner of his eye as Morgan lunged to pretend to tickle Anna for the playful shove.
She had her sai out and held up against his neck in a nanosecond. Luckily she was wearing the purple mask over the freaky makeup because Chuck might've actually feared for his best friend's life otherwise. The mouth was so damn scary, even after seeing it for over an hour now.
Glancing down, he realized his shoelace was untied. So he stooped and set to tying it, yawning.
"Hey, when's this thing supposed to start anyway?" he asked the wrestling couple. Were they a couple? He didn't even know. He wasn't sure Morgan even knew. And he wasn't about to ask. This was Morgan's business to sort out. Not his.
"Dunno, dude. Like…five minutes ago, I guess. Thought it was supposed to be after the ballet and the ballet's over. We're supposed to wait here for our tour guide. We're the Molly Hastings's tour."
"What's that even mean? Who's Molly Hastings?" He stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the wall again. At this point, he really just wanted to go back home and eat his cheese puffs and watch Hope Floats, or maybe What About Bob? again. For the thirty-thousandth time. Now he really just wanted to go home and watch What About Bob?, damn it.
What was he doing here?
"She was found dead here in, like, the 1890s or something?" Anna provided, shrugging. "I liked this story the best so I bought us tickets for it."
"What's her story? Was she murdered or something?"
"If you count getting run over by a bunch of horses and wagons murder."
Chuck made a face. "Ew. Holy shit, that's gruesome. How the hell…?"
"She was a gambler. Gambled away all her family's wealth, and when she couldn't pay her debts anymore, she ran into the middle of the racetrack during a race and was trampled to death."
Morgan tsked and shook his head. "See? This is why I don't gamble."
"Didn't you just bet Jeff you'd eat that jar of really old lemon curd in the fridge from when British Ben worked at the Buy More? That was, like, last week, dude."
"Yeah, but I knew he wouldn't take me up on the bet because I'd probably die if I put that super old curd in my mouth."
"Morgan, it's Jeff Barnes. Never rely on him doing the right thing for your health, dude. I don't trust him to do the right thing for his own health."
"Fair. It worked out, though."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't about to chance losing my boyfriend to a jar of lemon curd. A hot blonde gambling trampled ghost from the eighteen-nineties? Maybe. But not a jar of lemon curd."
"That's…specific…" Chuck mumbled, blinking at her. But then he realized what Anna Wu had just done. She'd called Morgan her boyfriend. And now his bearded buddy was gaping at her, a dreamy look on his face. Uh oh.
He decided to put a bit of distance between them and himself in case the face sucking happened. But before they could get too hot or heavy, Chuck heard his best friend gasp, "Stop the presses! Who's that?!" Huh? Chuck gave him a weirded out look. "It's Victorian Vale!"
Chuck snorted, glancing down to tug at his jacket again. "Vicki Vaaale Vic-vuh Vicki Vaaale. Victorian-Victorian Vaaaale…Va-Vict—" He glanced up again then, and he swallowed a gallon of air immediately, his knees threatening to buckle.
Five feet, ten inches of rumpled black and deep purple silks twisting and twirling, curving up from the pointed-toe black heels, the bursting bustle, tightly cinched bodice, and puffed long sleeves of the double breasted jacket, the way the black blouse beneath the jacket crawled up over her neck and bunched up under her chin… He couldn't breathe.
The jaundiced, grey makeup rubbed over her stunning face, the dark circles around eyes with red irises. Her blond hair was pulled back into an intricate updo with beautiful tendrils curling down, falling perfectly along each side of her angular face. And at one corner of her lips was a thin line of blood dripping down to her chin.
She slowly slid to a halt in front of them, her haunting red eyes swinging from Anna to Morgan, and finally settling on Chuck. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, folding her hands in front of her. "You here for the tour?"
Chuck wordlessly nodded, swallowing loudly.
"Good. Molly's group, I'm assuming."
He nodded again.
"Y-Yes, ma'am," Morgan muttered.
"You our guide?" Anna asked, completely unfazed. Somehow.
"V-Vicki Vale…it's… from Batman." Nobody asked him. What—?
The young woman gave a Mona Lisa smile, then she left them behind and held out her arms to the rest of the group, numbering around fifteen or so all together.
"Smooth," Morgan mumbled, thumping Chuck on the back.
"Yeah. Not sure that made it any better. Good try though, Chuckles."
They moved from the wall they were leaned against and followed her.
"Welcome. Welcome, everyone," the young blond Victorian woman said in a slow, deep voice. "Gather 'round and we'll start our tour. Sorry I'm late. I'm afraid I was … held up." She smirked evilly and received a few chuckles from the tour members gathering around her. Before she could say anything else, there was a blood curdling scream from somewhere in the park along the dark path Chuck was sure they'd be taken down. "Ah. That's our cue. The spirits are …spirited tonight."
Chuck snorted.
"Oh God. She has your sense of humor," Anna muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
Rolling his eyes at her, he ambled along with the rest of the group after the tour guide as she led them towards the path, confirming his assumption.
Twenty minutes took them along that long dark path and to a new place where a farmer awaited them, sickle in hand, telling them all about Agriculture Park, how it pushed him off of his land where his family ran a ranch for generations, taxing them unfairly until they could no longer afford to do anything other than sell. He gave a grisly and detailed account of how he tried to get his land back, which resulted in the revelation of headless bodies in the graves behind him, and finally, he swept back the burlap curtain and revealed their heads, open mouthed, slack-jawed, eyes rolling back, cheeks mottled with white and red.
"Oh GOD!" one woman gasped.
As they were allowed to explore the area, reading more about the history of ranchers in Southern California and why the lifestyle became unviable here in the late eighteen-hundreds, Chuck wandered away from his friends and leaned over a plaque.
"Everybody else is getting a look at the heads and you're over here reading about cattle ranches in eighteen-seventy-five."
He jumped a little and spun to look at the woman behind him. She gave him a bit wider of a smile than that Mona Lisa she'd flashed earlier before starting the tour. "Sorry. Didn't mean to spook you." She gave him a meaningful look like they were sharing an inside joke and it made him laugh.
"Right, right. Like that isn't the point of this whole ExpoGhostPark…Ghost…Ghostpo Walk? Whatever it's called."
She snorted, smirking and crossing her arms so that her cute little drawstring purse dangled from her lattice-lace covered wrist. "Ghostpo Park Walk. It's a terrible name, I know. But thankfully I wasn't the one who named it, so…"
He nodded. "Who did? I'd like to file a complaint with them."
"Some very wealthy dude who typically pays other people to come up with the creative names and decided he'd give it a go himself this one time," she said without missing a beat.
Chuck laughed, crossing his own arms. He was liking this a lot, he decided. "He should've left it to the people he pays to be creative."
"Yeah. Definitely." She pointed at the plaque again. "So…interested in the history, huh?"
"Mhm. History's pretty cool. The cattle to human ratio on here? Fascinating. Definitely not the same types of numbers we've got now."
"That's because we made a switch from ranch lands to farm lands. Use every freaking bit of this land to its fullest potential, drain the crud out of it, leave it behind when it has nothing left to give, and come back again later when it grows back…."
"Start the process all over again? Very human of us."
"Isn't it?" She watched him closely for a moment. Then she glanced to the side for a moment and back at him again. "See the heads yet?"
"Oh. I'm good looking at 'em from here."
"Ah, too scary?"
He was surprised and pleased by the lack of mockery in the question, as if she didn't see anything at all wrong in his fear. He shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "No, no. It's just that one of those heads reminds me of a science teacher I had in tenth grade. I'd rather not relive that."
As he shivered, she laughed. It was a light, soft sound. But knowing he'd been the one to make her laugh felt even better than her laughter sounded.
Her eyebrows raised then and she gently touched her ear, then nodded. "'Scuse me," she mumbled, giving him one last polite smile before gliding gracefully back to the middle of the pack to lead them on.
And because he was officially kind of fascinated by her, he moved up a bit closer to the front, actually listening to her answers to questions from the people in the group. And that, in turn, meant moving even closer to her.
She finally turned to glance at him, smiled a little, and faced forward again. "These pillars we're walking through aren't normally here. Nor are the stone heads mounted on top. We think our resident ghost, Buster, put them here. A way to always stay above the fray and look down upon us."
Chuck snorted and smirked at that.
But then he jumped and stepped in close to the tour guide when two of the pillars suddenly tilted towards them. But their guide held her arms up, stretching her hands out in either direction, putting herself in harm's way. He nearly dove in to save her, but the pillars stopped themselves, hovering there, tilting but frozen.
"Stop fooling around, Buster," she demanded. "You think it's so funny, but what happens when one of these innocent people gets hurt?"
There was a banshee-sounded scream from in the brush further up the path.
"What the hell?" a middle-aged man breathed behind Chuck.
"Buster means no harm, sir." She paused dramatically, seeming to magically right the pillars herself as she slowly pumped her hands in and out again, as if using the force to move them. "Most of the time," she chirped in that low, delectable voice. Then she turned back and started walking again. "Okay?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth. Chuck sent her a surprised look. He hadn't been expecting her to even notice him, let alone speak to him.
"Oh. Me? Yeah." He nodded, his hands going into his pockets yet again. "But I guess I should ask, full disclosure, there aren't going to be clowns in this thing, are there? I have a weak constitution, and if a clown pops out of something and comes for me, you might have a literal death on your hands. Either the clown gets it, or I go into cardiac arrest. Those are the only two options."
She laughed and shook her head. "No clowns in Exposition Park's history. Just lots of death and ghosts that the deaths beget."
"Begot," he said, not even catching himself teasing her.
"Begone."
"Begetthehellouttahere."
She laughed again. And he smiled widely, walking beside her, a few feet between them.
}o{
He had no idea where Morgan and Anna even were, but considering how they were when they were together in this on-again/off-again romance of theirs, he imagined they'd found someplace in a corner of one of the areas to make out. It was a thing with them. Which was part of the reason why he hadn't wanted to do this.
Anna was a friend of his too, and he liked her. She was smart, a badass, and actually did her damn work, unlike most of the rest of the Nerd Herders. But if it was just him and Morgan, they'd go through this tour, grab some late night Del Taco or something, get home, play video games, call it a night at, like, six in the morning, with both of them feeling like total sleep-deprived crap. But with Anna here too, it meant Chuck was a big ugly third wheel.
It especially sucked after everything had happened with Stanford.
Losing his future, getting booted off of his set path, a path that meant he'd finally be able to provide for himself, have his own career and life, maybe claw his way out of the mire his parents left him in the way Ellie was… it had felt like the end of his existence. What was he worth now? Close to nothing. But add to that the fact that the girl he'd loved was cheating on him the whole time they were together, finding that out at the same time that he was expelled after being framed for cheating on a final, and what meager self-worth he'd even had left was stamped out to nothing.
The worst part was that he still yearned for how good it felt to be on that campus, throwing the frisbee around with his friends, yelling things across the house at his frat brothers who ended up betraying him, not having his back, kicking him out unceremoniously. And he yearned for how good it felt to be with Jill.
So that he felt a deep ache in him when Morgan and Anna disappeared like this.
It was a devastatingly unfair amount of envy. He knew he shouldn't, and actually didn't, begrudge them their happiness together. Same with Ellie and Captain Awesome. But it still felt like shit knowing he'd never genuinely had that with Jill, and that he'd never have it again with anybody.
And now he was drowning in self-pity which was depressing and gross.
"This must seem kind of stupid to you…"
He turned and saw that the guide was standing a few feet away again. Then he looked around the area and realized she was still here because…well, he was the one who was still here. He was a tour member, just standing here stupidly, having not even budged the way all of the normal people were walking around the room taking things in, interacting with the "ghosts" at the old timey gambling tables.
Then he realized he hadn't answered her yet.
"Oh! No! No, no. It doesn't seem stupid. No, I mean…who doesn't have shooting craps with a handlebar-mustache-sporting ghost on their bucket list? Losers, that's who."
Giggling, she shook her head. "Go play. Have some fun. You're not actually going to lose any money playing because it's literally illegal for us to do that in a way it definitely wasn't in the late eighteen-hundreds out here."
He peered at her for a moment and crossed his arms. "You really know the history of this place, huh?"
"I should." She shrugged.
"Because you're paid to give tours?"
She raised her eyebrows at him. "I spent so much time here, played here, practically lived here. And I died here."
Chuck reared back, impressed. "The way you delivered that last part nearly got me. I swear, I felt a legitimate chill go down my spine. You're good at this."
The blond tour guide smiled and shrugged. "I'm practiced, I suppose. Nothing else for me to do out here but practice on you tourists."
"Whoa, whoa. Hey." He held up his hands defensively, smirking. "I'm no tourist. Angelino, born and raised. I know this city like the back of my hand."
"But here? Tonight? You are a tourist. Unless you've also spent time in late eighteen-hundreds Agriculture Park, now known as Exposition Park?"
"Touché. As far as I know, there aren't any time machines in existence, which for me, personally, is a total bummer. Thus, I have not been to Agriculture Park in the late eighteen-hundreds." He leaned a little closer. "But you have."
"Not in a time machine."
He laughed. She was funny and quick with her humor, and he found he liked that a lot. "Right, you lived through it."
"Mhm. I did. Until I…didn't." She raised an eyebrow, her voice deepening at the end there.
Chuck let out a low whistle. "I got another one of those chills down my spine. Congratulations."
She seemed very pleased. "Are you going to play or what?"
"Screw it, let's beat some ghosts at craps."
He was pleased this time to find that she followed him to the nearest table. "You know the rules of craps?"
"Oh hell no, absolutely not."
She laughed, stepping in close to him at the table. "I know any game you can play to win money in so I can help."
"Right, right. Because you're a gambler, hm?"
She smirked at him, her red eyes sparkling…somehow. "Precisely."
Within minutes, she was telling him every single move to make, every bet to place. Until she reached out and hovered her hand over his, not actually touching him. But he felt the warmth of her against his arm, mere inches from brushing against him. "I'm going to send you to the Dark Side on this one."
He gasped and spun to look at her. "Oooooo like Darth Maul?"
One of the other players snickered and Chuck turned to glance at him. "She isn't talking about Star Wars, dude. It means you're betting against me, the guy throwin' the dice. Against the table. You're a 'don't bettor'."
The guy was this close to calling him a dork and he didn't appreciate the tone, either, but he brushed it off and turned to look at his mentor again. "Oh. That makes a lot more sense. A little less cool, though. I'd thoroughly enjoy wielding a lightsaber with two buzzy ends. Bzz bzzzz." He swung his make-believe saber a little.
"Jesus Christ," the other guy breathed, and he ignored him because the tour guide was grinning at him, completely ignoring the other guy too.
"Just make the bet. Here, put it here. There." She had the ghoulish dealer in his tall top hat and dusty maroon suit make the move for him. And when the jerk across the table rolled, the rest of the table groaned while Chuck and his tour guide celebrated. "See? What'd I say?"
"You're very good at this."
"I know."
"I'm cashing out, good sir."
"Already?"
"I like to get outta Dodge while I'm up." He winked at her, tipped an imaginary hat at the rest of the players, some of them tourists like him, the others ghosts, and he stepped back from the table.
"Not a man after my own heart, I suppose."
Right. The whole story of Molly Whatshername that Anna told them right before Molly Whatshername herself showed up to give them the tour.
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"You're not really. The most important thing is that your pocketbook remains safe. Mine oftentimes didn't."
"Ah." He nodded once. "Addiction can getcha. When I was a senior in high school, I was involved in so much crap that—Oh, pardon the French. 'Scuse me." She giggled and shook her head with a red eye roll. "But I had so many extracurriculars on top of AP classes up my butt," she laughed outright this time, "that I had to guzzle coffee all day long. During class, at lunch, during theatre rehearsals."
"You did theatre?"
"I was the tech guy. I handled the stage lighting, the sound effects, any other stage effects that were needed. And the curtains."
She beamed at him. "You did the spotlight?"
"Mhm. Never in the spotlight, always shining it on someone else. That's my whole shtick." He snorted, giving her a self-deprecating smirk.
She twisted her blue bloodless lips to the side and pursed them a little. "So you were never in anything on stage."
"Nah. Just guzzling my coffee in the light booth thingy, all hyped up on caffeine waving that spotlight around like wooooooo!" He mimicked grabbing the spotlight and waving it in circles.
She cracked up, rocking forward. And he noticed they were walking through the group towards the front, probably to continue onto the next part of the ghost walk. "So the point of this whole thing. Did you get a coffee addiction in high school?"
"Oh terrible. Yes. But it got me through to graduation and I…got into college." He cleared his throat. "Rest is history." Just like his college career. But this supremely gorgeous ghost woman didn't need to hear that part.
"Still addicted?"
"Not as bad, no. But the stakes aren't as high."
"Ah. I see."
"And you? Still have your addiction?"
"Death didn't cure it, no. Sometimes in the middle of the night, you'll see me stalking the same places around here where the hotels used to be, standing over a craps table only I can see, rolling dice that are only in my mind."
"Did you lose that often?"
She shrugged and gave him a forlorn look. "Yes, but they rig it a certain way on purpose."
"A certain way?"
She turned to face everyone and lifted one elegant arm in the air. "Enough fun and games, my friends. We still have much to see. And you haven't seen anything yet. That's it, drop those chips. And if you take anything, you might just end up with a ghoul following you home."
Chuck spotted the jerk subtly pull a few chips out of his pants' back pocket and slip them back onto the table and he clamped his lips together to keep from laughing. She got him good.
"Yes, I saw it too," she said out of the corner of her mouth, lowering her arm to her side again. She turned and shared an amused look with him. "That gets them every single time."
Chuck couldn't help snickering. She was awesome.
"And when I say they rig it, I mean, they make sure you win just enough to keep that blood in your veins boiling for more. The need for the burst of endorphins winning shoots through you. But most of the time, I lost. It doesn't matter that I know now, much too late. I still go back, every single night, looking for that one win that will give it all back to me."
She stared off to the side, her red eyes dull and almost lifeless.
Okay, this girl was fantastic at this. He was going to find her boss or something and tell them to up her damn pay. Give her a damn bonus. Something, because she was amazing.
He found himself ogling a little at her profile as they continued the tour, walking through a maze-like tunnel system at one point, which he thought had nothing to do with Exposition Park or its history, but it did make him feel kind of like a Ninja Turtle so that was tight.
And Morgan and Anna finally rejoined him, sidling up next to him as if they'd been there all the time.
Morgan tugged on his arm and moved up to his tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Dude, her makeup doesn't rub off. How cool is that?!" And when Chuck glanced down at Morgan, he saw black and red smudges blending in with his beard.
He wasn't sure if he should tell him or not. And he decided to just keep his mouth shut, let the bearded dude live his life to its fullest. At least for tonight.
"Cool, Morgan."
When he glanced at his watch, he knew the tour wasn't going to be much longer, and in spite of his bellyaching about coming here in the first place, he found he was disappointed it might end soon. Just to spite the Chuck who'd played dead in his room a few hours earlier to avoid coming out tonight, he'd read and learned quite a bit about the history of this place, whether these ghosts and figures the actors and tour guide told them about were real or made up for the tour. And he'd…had fun.
He turned to tell Morgan that, to thank him for dragging him along, but Anna must've spotted another dark spot because she giggled out a weird sounding growl and began to pull on Morgan's arm to take him there.
Morgan gave Chuck a crooked grin as he was yanked off to Heaven or whatever, and all he could do was flash his buddy a thumbs up, before he turned back to keep ambling along after the tour guide, shaking his head and snorting to himself.
And then the tour guide seemed to pause a bit in her step, and she looked around, turning to glance over her shoulder. She stopped looking when her red eyes landed on him, and he realized she'd been looking for him. Him. Not somebody else. And he was sure the smile on his face looked stupid with how big it was. He could feel his nose wrinkling.
But she smiled back. And she gestured with a flick of her head for him to join her, not having to say a word. He trotted up next to her, fighting back a blush, and he pulled his jacket tighter around him. Now that the sun had officially gone down, it was cold out here. And there was a chilly breeze that was playing with the tour guide's coiled tendrils that graced her lace-covered neck and puffed shoulders.
He swallowed hard.
"Didn't you have people you came here with? Or were they just…standing near you?"
Chuck gave her a surprised look. "You remember that?"
She snorted. "Yeah, it was, like, an hour and a half ago or something. Of course I do."
"No, of course. It just…there are a lot of people in your tour group and… Never mind. Nothing. Ignore me."
"You're hard to ignore."
He raised his eyebrows and gave her a long look, but she just stared straight ahead, that Mona Lisa smile on her pretty face again. That line of blood dripping down to her chin still flawless and unmarred. What did that mean, though? That he was hard to ignore.
Clearing his throat, he decided not to ask. He knew what he wanted the answer to be and he was afraid it wasn't that. So he'd just answer that question she asked in the first place.
"No, I came here with them. But they're, um, in that…nice beginning part of a relationship where you can't keep your hands off each other. So they're…somewhere around here probably. In the shadows. Sucking face."
She snickered. "Ah. I hope they don't go too far into the shadows. One never knows what might lurk there. I'd hate for your friends to get spooked to death." He gave her a wide-eyed, amused look, but she didn't see it, still strolling along, as she called over her shoulder, "Keep your eyes peeled for our friends from the afterlife. They love haunting this part of the path." Chuck nearly jumped when one of said friends appeared out from behind a tree, peeking at them creepily, its face white and covered with some sort of sheet-like material. Ugh, and it had long nails. That was some freaky shit. It nearly had him reaching out and grabbing the tour guide for help. But he resisted, instead swallowing hard and inching a bit closer to her.
He was cool. Totally cool. None of this fazed him. Nope. Not him.
"If those friends of yours aren't careful and wander into one of these specter's favorite spots, they might find a hand reaching in, grabbing their tongues out from each other's mouths and ripping them off, as keepsakes, like."
Chuck gaped at her, speechless.
She turned and looked at him through her eyelashes, and in spite of how ghastly the makeup on her face really was, she looked so cute. "Was that a little too grisly?" she asked with a wince. "Too macabre?" She shrugged shyly. "When you've been dead for this long, it tends to creep into the way you talk to people. Sorry."
He chuckled and shook his head. "You're really good at this."
"Good at what?" She gave him another innocent look.
And if he hadn't had a girl completely obliterate his soul, pulverize his heart, and kick him to the curb at the same time as the university he'd put his entire self into had done, all of which destroyed any amount of self-worth he might've otherwise had, he might've picked up on the flirtation that was happening.
But all of those things had happened, so he continued to walk beside the flirting tour guide, completely oblivious to the flirtation.
"That right there," he chuckled, shaking his finger at her. "You're a genius."
She giggled. "Well I'm sorry you're sort of being third wheeled by your friends." He shrugged, because what else could he do? "Sucks being a third wheel."
"Oh? You been third wheeled? I didn't realize ghosts did that sort of thing."
He got an amused look for that, those eyes of hers sparkling again. He liked when they did that. It made his insides feel like there was a light there, and with all of the creepy ghost-like heads popping up from gravestones and out from behind walls, silently watching them as they all walked past, spooking the tour members, the light was very welcome.
"I wasn't always a ghost, you know. I was alive once."
"Ah. Of course. I'm sorry. You were. You're right, being a third wheel isn't great. But I'm not minding much this time for some reason." He chuckled. "Anyway, good for them." She gave him a searching look. "What?"
"I don't know. You're just…my ghost brain isn't working right now," she teased, smirking, "what's the word that's the opposite of being a cynic?"
"Uhhh…optimist?"
"That. Sure. That works. You're an optimist. I guess I'm just surprised you're being such a good sport about it."
"They're my friends." He shrugged, smiling. "I want my friends to be happy."
"Even if it means they're ditching you on this ghost walk to go…how'd you put it in modern terms? Suck face?"
He laughed. "Yes, in modern terms." She was really adamant about selling this I'm-a-real-ghost act. He liked it.
She smiled. "You're taking it well. That's all. And I'm surprised."
"They don't mean to ditch me. They're just in their own world. Isn't that what happens in that first blossom of new love? Or whatever," he added drily.
He heard a quiet sigh. "I guess so." She shook her head. "My point is you're being awfully nice."
"I don't think being any other way about it is at all warranted. Anyway, I'm reaping the benefits." He realized belatedly that he'd actually said that and he narrowed his eyes, blushing, looking away and pointing. "Oh, that's a spooky guy. I liked that. Looked kind of like a freaky scarecrow. You ever read that book from when we were kids, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark? They had those freaky-ass drawings, oh my God. Looked like their skin was like…I don't even know, being pulled off, but it was so unsettling. And there was that one about Harold the scarecrow…"
She had a smirk on her face as she glanced at him. "I don't know about any of these books you speak of, or these drawings."
"Right, sorry. You grew up in, like, eighteen-seventy something, right?"
"Mmm. Yes. But what, exactly, are these benefits you're reaping from being a third wheel tonight?"
Smart-ass. He gave her a flat look and she snorted cutely. So she was observant and brilliant, too. And wily. Damn, this woman was something.
"You heard that then? Cool."
She giggled.
"Uh. Well. Morgan can be a real talker and it'd be really hard to concentrate on the historical stuff I've been reading in these areas."
"Really interested in that cattle to—"
"People ratio, yeah," he finished for her and she beamed brightly at him. "You got it."
"You're such a stinker."
"I know." He chuckled, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets again, not realizing how much of a defense mechanism it was, as if it would make him stop blushing with this insanely cool, smart, funny woman. "Um, the truth is, I was not expecting this tour to be this much fun and I'm having a fuggin' blast." He winced. "Sorry. I swore. I swore again."
She laughed, and if she was blushing, there was no way he'd be able to tell with the ghostly grey makeup smeared all over her gorgeous face. She raised her eyebrows. "Wow. The honesty. Okay. I'm glad you're enjoying the tour. But also, you do know people cursed back then, right? Like, a lot. It just didn't make it into as many of our writings." She leaned in close. "But we said fuck a lot."
Chuck just about swallowed his own tongue, blinking at her. She smirked, leaning back again, looking very pleased with herself. He laughed then, shaking his head. "Well, I'll take that under advisement."
"And listen, I've been doing this for over a hundred years now, and each tour tends to sort of blend in with the rest of them, if I can be honest with you. But this one's sort of…standing out. A rose amongst thorns, I suppose you could say."
"And it's taken a hundred years for you to have fun giving one of these tours? Damn."
She laughed, hugging herself, and he wasn't thinking that that might be one of her defense mechanisms, her version of his habit of sticking his hands in his pockets.
They stayed close for the rest of the tour, and she never broke character once, though she did drift off to the side a bit when Morgan and Anna came back, and he almost wanted the couple to go find some other place to go make out in so that she'd drift back to his side again. Or hover or glide or whatever it was graceful, gorgeous specters like her did.
The end of the tour came upon them suddenly, and a man in a top hat, without any of the ghostly makeup or ghoulish gashes across his back or whatever else these people had done to signify they were dead, stepped in front of them and grinned. "We hope you enjoyed wandering through our Ghostpo Park Walk tonight. We're sorry we couldn't provide you with a tour guide, as short staffed as we are…"
Everyone looked at each other in confusion. And one of the teens spoke up. "We had a tour guide."
"What?" he asked, glancing between the tour members. "Oh dear, she didn't…" He sighed tiredly. "That must've been Molly. She picks up tour groups sometimes. Just for fun. Pretends she's one of us. Or…maybe it's just been so long since the tragedy, she's forgotten that she is in fact…dead."
The group chuckled, some made, "oooooo!" sounds, and others spun to look around. Chuck was in the last category, because said "dead" tour guide had become an important part of this night, in fact, the most important part of the night. And he realized she actually was gone. And yes, it was all part of the fun, to play like an actual ghost had wandered over to give them a tour like she was a human who was paid to guide them, and then disappeared into the mists around them before they even realized she was gone.
It was pretty cool, he had to admit. Clever. And it was fun. It even earned a few smattering applause from the tour members before they all split off and went to do more exploring or leave for the night.
"That was so great," Morgan said, snickering. "Our tour guide was a real ghost all along. I mean, I could've told you that." He shrugged. "She was way too hot to be real."
Anna elbowed him and he hissed. "I refuse to compete with a ghost." Her eyes narrowed over the purple Mileena mask. "Also that's dumb and illogical. If she were actually a ghost, it means she was alive at one time, and she looked like that when she was alive. Minus the…grey face and the blood on her mouth."
Their silly what if conversation aside, Chuck knew that the woman under that makeup was, in fact, stunning. And she was real. And she was somewhere around here. And that last look she'd given him and the look he'd given her back without realizing she would soon sneak away and not be seen by any of them again… Well, he wish he'd known.
Oh well.
That was that.
And God, it'd been fun while it lasted.
"Morgan, Anna?" They both looked at him. "This was actually really awesome. And I had a great time on that tour. So thanks for dragging me out of my room. Thanks for this. I needed it and I appreciate it. Genuinely."
They both smiled, and Anna even took off of her mask to go up onto her tiptoes, kissing his cheek.
"Hey…" Morgan muttered.
"Oh shut up. He deserved that. You're so sweet, Chuckles. You're welcome. I'm glad you had fun." She sent the shorter of the men a look then. "I sure had fun too."
The pout left The Beard's face and he grinned dreamily. "Yeah. So did I," he drawled.
Chuck just sighed, shaking his head at them. "I'm gonna go check out that walk-up bar and maybe get myself a beer or something. You two want anything? It's on me."
"It's on you?" Morgan asked.
"Hell yes then." Anna nodded eagerly.
He chuckled and led them over to the walk-up bar.
}o{
"Just send a Y if you're safe and an N if you need help or something, that's all I ask. Oh and have fun." Chuck hit send on the text to Morgan a half hour later. They'd disappeared again, which he was fine with, as long as Morgan ended up coming back to him alive. And Anna, for that matter.
Granted, he'd split off from them to buy them both an extra beer and came back to find them gone, which was a little shitty. But oh well. He was fine.
A text came back almost immediately: "Oh so much Y. So much Y. Sorry dude. Be back soon. Promise."
He wondered if he shouldn't just cut the ties for the night and let them do whatever they wanted. He had no problem calling a ride share to get home. Or maybe he'd take a taxi or the bus. He'd grown accustomed to LA's subpar bus system as a kid anyway, with how often he and Ellie ended up having to use it to get around once their parents made themselves scarce and neither of them were old enough to get a driver's license.
Shrugging, he sent Morgan a message again. "Hey dude. Know what? I'm getting a lil tired. You and Anna have fun WINK WINK and I'm just gonna get a ride share home. Thx again! Had fun! Cya 2m.
Morgan called instead of texting back, which hadn't been Chuck's intention. He answered. "Hey, man."
"Chuck, we're coming back. Where are you? I didn't mean to ditch you, dude. We'll all leave."
"Wait, wait. Before you come looking for me… Are you still having fun out here?"
"I mean, yeah, but—"
"Then stay, Morgs! Seriously. I promise I'm not put out. You didn't ditch me. I'm good. I swear. You know I wouldn't lie to you, man."
"This is exactly the sort of thing you'd lie to me about."
"Touché," he chuckled. "But I'm serious. I've already called a ride share," he lied, confirming what Morgan had just said. "You two enjoy yourselves. Make it a date, huh? You're gonna be at Ellie's party tomorrow, though, right?"
"Dude, of course. I can't let you be stuck at the Halloween party as Shai-Hulud with no butt."
He laughed. "Pretty sure sandworms don't have butts anyway, Morgan."
"What? Then how do they poop?"
Chuck was still laughing as he hung up on his best friend a few moments later. He didn't call a ride share or taxi just yet, nor did he pull up the bus schedule. Instead he decided to just sit and enjoy his second beer of the night, watching the sights, listening to the sounds.
Monster Mash was playing somewhere, and he didn't know why, but that corny-ass song always made him smile.
He took another swig of his beer then, spreading his legs akimbo as he sat on the edge of the rose garden fountain, tapping the toes of his Converse together and sighing.
The Nerd Herd supervisor was basking in the experiences he'd had on that tour earlier when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Well, well. If it isn't the third wheel."
Chuck blinked, raising his head, and he spun around to see a young woman with long, blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, a normal-hued face, a pair of jeans, and a brown leather jacket over a light-colored blouse. He couldn't really tell the color in the dark, the moon merely a waning crescent. The lights they'd strung around Exposition Park for the event didn't reach this far into the middle of the rose garden. And maybe this was why he'd picked the spot.
"Sorry." She stopped and tilted her head, shifting the strap of the messenger bag that hung at her side on her shoulder and making an embarrassed face. "That's rude. Less cute, more rude."
So it was her. He pushed up to his feet quickly, brushing the dirt off the back of his jeans. "H-Hi. Wow. N-Nah, please. Don't worry about it." He chuckled, shaking his head. As she wandered a little closer, he found his insides were singing. He'd thought he wouldn't see her again. Not because she was a ghost, but because she was a paid actress who'd done her job for the night, snuck off, and went home to shower off all the crap she'd applied to her face—cool crap though it was—only to do it again tomorrow night.
He cleared his throat. "I mean, as long as you don't make that into a full-blown nickname for me or something. Please don't do that."
She smirked. She was even more gorgeous without makeup. Somehow. And he realized how stupid that sounded, even in his own head, because the makeup she'd had on was supposed to make her look dead. Literally.
"Hmmm." She made a thoughtful face, glancing up and tapping her chin. "I have to come up with a better nickname than Third Wheel for you then, huh? Okay." She made a clicking noise and pursed her lips, sucking air through her teeth, narrowing her eyes. "How about—" She blinked and shook her head then. "Ugh, I just lost it. It was on the tip of my tongue, too."
Chuck giggled. "Why not something like…" He paused dramatically. "Chuck?"
She wrinkled up her face and pulled her chin back. "What? Chuck? Where'd you come up with that one?"
"It's my name."
She winced hard. "Oh. Right. Sorry."
He just laughed. And then he noticed, somehow for the first time, that she still had those red irises surrounding her pupils. "Oh." He pointed to his own eyes. "Wow. Still got the red eye thing goin' on, huh?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Why do you think they gave me the job?" He gawked and she cracked up. "I don't like taking the contacts out until I get home. They're kind of intense contacts and the bathroom in our changing area has this one super dim, old-ass light in it. Good way to poke my own eye out."
"Of course." He chuckled. "I'm an idiot. You got me for a second." He moved to sit on the edge of the fountain again, but stopped himself and glanced up at her. "D'you…I mean, you can join me. If you want."
She pursed her lips and twisted them to the side again, looking a little shy as she tucked her hair that escaped the messy ponytail behind her ear. "Uh. Sure. Yeah."
"Your shift is over right? I don't wanna get you busted or anything."
"It's over." She nodded.
And they sat side by side on the edge of the fountain. He reached down then and picked up his beer, taking a sip. Then he realized how rude that was and pulled it away from his lips, gulping the fizzy liquid down. "Oh. You want a beer?"
"You don't have to go all the way back to the bar to get me a beer, but thank you. I'm good."
Chuck grinned mischievously and grabbed the beer he got for Morgan from where he set it by his feet. "Ta da…"
She beamed at him. "Planned on double fisting, huh?"
"No, no." He chuckled. "I got this for my friend but he, um, escaped again."
"Off to suck face with his girlfriend once more, huh?"
"Yeah." He snorted and shrugged good-naturedly. "I got one for her too, actually." He trapped his own beer between his knees to hold it, and lifted the third beer he'd set by his feet, wiggling them both for the tour guide to see.
"Great, I'll take 'em both." She snatched them and pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Sorry…." He must've made a face because she stopped, pushing one back towards him. "It's been a really long day. I was just super rude doing that."
"Take 'em!" he chirped. "Take 'em both, please. This is my own second one as it is." He waved dismissively at her as she tried to pass one back and she pulled it towards her chest again, raising her eyebrows and looking at him through her eyelashes. Oh, it was much cuter without the ghost makeup. So much cuter. And that was saying something. "Really. I mean it. Have 'em both. You earned 'em."
She grinned. "Thank you. I'll give you some money for 'em once I have a hand to dig into my bag."
"They're on me." She gave him a dubious look. "No, really. No strings attached. Just enjoy 'em, that's all I ask." He smiled sincerely. "This ended up being a really good night for me, and you played a large part in that, so think of this as my thank you."
"Okay. If you insist. But I appreciate it."
He smiled. "Okay, I gotta say this. But those red eyes are so cool and I wish I had some. I'd wear them to work all the time. Working retail wearing those?" He whistled. "People would be so afraid to give me shit. They'd be afraid they might get cursed or have the hordes of hell break in their door later that night or something."
She laughed. "Ugh yeah. You could use 'em for any job that requires you to deal with shitty people." He nodded emphatically. "I love these things. They're so cool."
"They are." He sipped his beer, noticing how quickly she was drinking her first beer. He wanted her to slow down for selfish reasons. The longer it took her to drink those beers, the longer he had to learn more about her, get to know her, before she disappeared again the way she had earlier when the tour ended. "So um…you mind if I ask where you got them?" He held up a hand quickly, something occurring to him. "Wait, wait. No. Before you tell me, don't." She gave him a curious look, furrowing her brow. "Let me just live in the bliss that they're magic for a while." She smiled at him. "Otherwise it'll be like when your ride breaks down at Disneyland and the attendants make you get out and walk through those backstage areas to get back down the mountain, and it's, like…so ugly and not magical at all. Just, like, lots of cement and busted, fucked up pieces of broken toboggans they threw back there. The back side of Disney."
She laughed, rocking forward, and she took another long drink before she responded. "I haven't seen the front side of Disney."
Chuck couldn't help the gasp, spinning to face her better. "You've never been to Disneyland?!"
She shook her head, her eyes a little less bright, the edges of her smiling mouth twitching just slightly. But the mask was back on her face just as quickly. "Nope. I mean, as you can imagine, I don't get out much." She gestured at everything around them.
"Oh. Yeah, good point. Being a ghost and all, tethered to this place forever. Sucks," he teased.
"Them's the breaks."
He laughed. Somehow, she continued to get even better.
"On that subject, actually, I gotta say, you're really good at your job. And the way the tour ends? Rad. Total mindfuck."
She snorted. "I really like that part."
"Because it's over and you get to go home?"
Laughing, she shrugged. "I mean, yes, that. But it's a pretty cool way to end the tour. Kinda rib the guests like that. Make it out to be like a ghost hovered over and pretended to be a human actor giving the tour."
"Spooky."
"Spooktastic," she added, drinking as he chuckled.
She was freaking cute, too. This was too good to be true.
"Beer one, dispatched." She held up the empty bottle triumphantly, then set it beside her feet.
He laughed. "Congrats." He cleared his throat then as she skillfully popped the cap off of the bottle using the side of the fountain and picked up the cap from the floor, letting it fall into her jacket pocket. That was actually…hot. Very hot. "Uh," he squeaked, and he cleared his throat, inwardly rolling his eyes at himself. God he was easy, but in his defense, this person was overwhelming she was so fantastic. "So long day, huh? Give a lot of tours?"
"Oh. Only two a night, and that's not every night. Just the night before Halloween. As you can imagine, it's a popular night for this sort of thing. And then tomorrow people do the party thing."
"Do you have to do this tomorrow?"
She shook her head. "Nah. Tonight was my last night on the job. 'Til next year probably."
"Oh. Oh! Congratulations on fulfilling your duties, Ghostie."
She giggled and beamed at him, clinking her bottle against his as he held his up between them. "Thanks. I appreciate that. And thanks for letting me have this little celebration." She wiggled her bottle and took another sip.
"Sure. Anytime." He shrugged modestly. "And an extra congrats for getting through this super long day."
She gave him a long look, taking a sip of beer without removing her eyes from his for even a moment. And then she smiled as she slowly swallowed. "Thank you. That's sweet." He smiled back kindly, trying not to blush. "City life, you know? Missed trains. Dropping things in puddles still around from the torrential downpour that randomly happened last night."
"That was weird."
"Right? Out of nowhere."
"Completely."
She snorted, and shook her head. "Unwanted call from an ex." He raised his eyebrows and tried not to choke on his beer. "The crappy realizations that arise from said call. And to top it all off, busted up car from last week's fender bender that wasn't even my fault can be picked up from the mechanic's tomorrow but he found a lot of extra stuff wrong with it which means I'll have to pay way more than I expected." She huffed and made an oh well face, taking another extra long drink.
Chuck was quiet for a few moments, and then he licked his lips, frowning, before glancing at her finally. "I'm really sorry. That sounds like a really long, really awful day."
"Thanks. I'm okay, though. Like I said…city life."
"Fuck your ex though." He felt her freeze and he slowly lowered his bottle from his lips, clearing his throat. He thrusted his extra hand out towards her. "Shit. Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That wasn't my place."
She smirked, arching one pretty eyebrow. "No, please. You're right. They're shit, exes. I mean, I'll drink to that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She raised her bottle again. "Fuck exes."
"Fuck exes." He clinked his bottle to hers, feeling a little lightheaded from how much he was discovering he genuinely liked her. Did he have it in him? Could he do this? Or would he be like the human version of the Hindenburg and crash in a gas-filled fiery heap?
They sat there and talked about anything, nothing at all, and he felt himself leaning further and further into her, the smile inside of him getting wider and wider, something warm pooling in his gut.
And he didn't even realize they'd both finished their beers a while ago by the time she finally sighed and slapped her hands onto her thighs. "Well, Chuck… It's, um, it's been…" She furrowed her brow and looked at him in awe. "Pretty great, actually. Talking to you, I mean."
He grinned, even as his heart sank. No, no, no. Could they just stay here all night? Please?
But she climbed to her feet. Chuck joined her quickly. "No. I mean, yeah. Yeah, it's been—This whole night, actually. It's been fantastic."
"It really has been." She reached out and played with the lapel of his jacket. And he realized this was the first time they'd touched all night. A bolt of lightning shot through him from the point where she touched him on his chest. "Thanks, Chuck. Really. Sincerely." She met his brown eyes with her red ones—or whatever color existed beneath the red. She tugged his jacket cutely. "For how crappy this day was, it's ended really well. I feel like when I get home and fall asleep, I'm gonna be thinking about the last few hours and not all the…bullshit earlier on in the day."
"I hope so," he said breathlessly, moving in a little closer.
She smiled warmly. "Take care of yourself, huh? And…" She tilted her head. "Don't let all the shitty life stuff that exists out there, outside of this garden, this park, change…" She gestured to all of him with a wave of her hand. "Any of this. Okay?"
"I'm gonna do my best," he said just as warmly. "Thanks for the awesome tour. And the chat." He didn't want to say it, but this one night had done wonders pulling him up out of the mire he'd been drowning in for close to two years now. Ever since the Stanford travesty.
"You're welcome."
Something occurred to him then as she began to move away from him, the two bottles she'd emptied dangling from her long, slender fingers.
"H-Hey, you know I'm Chuck. But…"
"Sarah."
She smiled at him, backing away.
"Sarah. It was fantastic talking to you, Sarah."
Her grin lit up the dark rose garden. "Night, Chuck."
But she was leaving, and he hadn't done it. Fuck. Shit. Damn. No. He couldn't do this. It would ruin what had been such an awesome night, and the memory of her would forever be marred with her turning him down once he drummed up the courage to ask.
"Sarah?"
God damnit.
He'd never forgive himself.
She turned and took a few steps closer.
"There's a Halloween party tomorrow. My sister and I throw it every year in the courtyard outside…um, I mean in the courtyard of our building." There, he'd water down the fact that he still lived with his sister and her boyfriend. She didn't have to know that now. Sarah raised her eyebrows. "If you don't have plans already… Do you wanna come?"
She looked shocked, and it dimmed into surprise, and finally, there was that Mona Lisa smile. Though her lips were no longer blue, there was no perfectly constructed red line of blood dripping down to her chin. This was a red-blooded, fully human woman standing in front of him in the dark of the rose garden, midnight quietly approaching.
"Yeah. Okay."
Well.
Shit.
A/N: Yeeeesssss hehehehehehehehehehe. Or 'cause it's Halloween I guess it's more like muahahahahahahahahaha.
Please review.
Thanks!
-SC