The Nerd Versus the P.I. Family
By Steampunk . Chuckster
A/N: Definitely didn't change the author's note from the last chapter so here's hoping this one sticks. Thanks for still reading my fics. I appreciate it.
Summary: Sarah Walker has uprooted her life, leaving her job with the LAPD and going it alone as a private investigator, all in the hopes it provides her with less dangerous stakes and a schedule she can control so that she can handle her most important job, raising her toddler, a bit easier. But when the single parent thinks her computer might've been targeted by a criminal, she has to request help from the unlikeliest of sources: The Buy More Nerd Herd.
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK, I do not own its characters, I am not making money from posting this.
Working at the Burbank Buy More for as many years as he did, throughout high school, during his college days whenever he'd be home for holiday breaks, and again after he got his degree until now, Chuck Bartowski had seen many bizarre things in this building that ran the gamut from harmless to someone-could've-actually-been-killed.
There was the roach infestation when he was seventeen, the time they shot a Buy More commercial in the store and guys were walking around dressed as lobsters, the semi-hostage situation except the culprit had a stink bomb instead of a gun or knife, the national spelling bee champion of '02 getting caught shooting up out by the back dumpsters behind the Buy More years after his life's greatest triumph, the freak hailstorm a few years back that had broken multiple holes in the ceiling of the building, causing certain portions of the store to get taped off to keep customers away from the flooded floors and molding carpet as a result…
But he thought maybe this took the cake.
Because it was specifically in his office which nobody tended to go into except for him… It was a respect thing. He'd garnered himself more respect in the Burbank Buy More, from both the green shirts and the Nerd Herders, than even Big Mike, though nobody would ever admit that to Big Mike, least of all Big Mike himself.
He stopped dead, his sneakers squeaking awkwardly against the tile, his jaw hitting the floor.
Captain Casey of the LAPD sat in his uber-comfy chair, leaning back with his boots on Chuck's desk, picking at his teeth with his fingernail, so casual and at home as he just stared at him with a nonchalant look on his face. And one of his detectives—Det. Rizzo was it?—leaned on the edge of the desk nearest him, also nonchalant in the way she crossed her arms and watched him dully.
"Took you long enough," Casey muttered.
"W-What? I…I'm working," he said, whipping around to look back out over the store, before whipping back to look at them again, gaping. "H-How did you get in…here…?"
"Door wasn't locked, genius. We walked in."
Chuck flicked his gaze at Det. Rizzo, blinked, and shook himself. "Oh. Um. I… What are you doing here?" he asked then, narrowing his eyes.
"We missed you," Rizzo said, batting her eyelashes.
The captain grunted in disgust and shook his head at his detective, before he crossed his arms and regarded Chuck again. "What do ya think? We need you to do somethin' for us. Somethin'…time sensitive. And it's gotta be discreet-like, ya get me?"
Chuck looked back and forth between them.
"Shut the door."
"Oh. Uh, I tend to keep it open, just for air flow, keeps the circulation goin' in here—"
"I said shut it."
Chuck reached behind him and quickly shut it, clearing his throat. "It's shut," he muttered.
Captain Casey lowered his boots back to the floor, swiping a bit of dirt off of Chuck's desk which the younger man supposed was thoughtful-ish. Granted, not putting his dirty boots on his desk in the first place might have been the better way to go, but with this guy, he thought being picky didn't do much good.
"We have something for you," the blunt fellow said then, reaching into his inner jacket pocket. He produced an evidence bag with a small grey flip phone in it and put it down on the desk.
"Ah. A relic from two-thousand and one. Shouldn't this sweet baby be in museum or something?" he asked with a snort, picking it up from the desk and dangling it in front of his face, his eyes roving over its sleek angles. "Next to the dinosaurs."
"Jesus, you're a fucking geek," Detective Rizzo groused. "It's a perp's cell. Specifically what we think is a burner. But we can't access its records because it isn't a smart phone. We want you to find out what numbers he's called on it and vice versa, who's called him."
Chuck looked up at them. "That's not easy to do."
Casey sat up straighter and slowly turned to exchange a look with Rizzo. "Nnnnooooooo," he drawled sarcastically. "You mean the thing none of us at the precinct, including our techies, could accomplish is not easy?"
The curly-haired Nerd Herd Specialist glared a little and curled his lip. "Haaaah," he shot back, just as sarcastic. "I'm saying it's not easy, because there's no telling whether it can even be done."
"We also need you to track those numbers once you're able to get 'em," Casey continued as if he hadn't even heard Chuck.
"I said I don't know if I can even do the first step. This isn't an iPhone or an Android. It's an Intellicell. I mean, this company still exists but almost nobody has any of their products, especially this one. It's an old one even for Intellicell." He shook the bag.
"Wasn't it you who once said if it could be done, you could do it? Or did my ears deceive me, kid?" Rizzo asked, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows.
Chuck shrugged. "I mean, modesty aside, that's probably the truth. But the fact remains, there's a fifty/fifty chance that this can't be done," he emphasized.
"Well, figure it out, geek, because we're goin' back into that contract and you're gonna be gettin' some big checks for this. We need to know who this guy's been talkin' to. And who's been givin' 'im orders."
Raising his eyebrows, Chuck nodded slowly. "I see, I see. Think he's gonna lead you to the big baddie, huh?"
"Ain't none o' yer business," Casey growled, pointing and narrowing his eyes.
Chuck cleared his throat. "Right. Sorry. I just…do the thing you are paying me to do. Got it."
He moved to open the bag then.
"What are you doing?!" Rizzo lunged and snatched it out of his hands. "That's police evidence! What are you, stupid?"
"You said you wanted me to—"
"Not here!" she snapped. "You think we're gonna let you paw evidence in your musty Buy More office with your flamin' hot Cheetos fingers?"
"I…don't eat those," he sassed back at her. "…Anymore." She rolled her eyes at him. "And I told you about the door and the air flow. This building's old. Gimme a break. I do what I can. But…that's fair about the…not keeping evidence here in the Buy More thing. That makes sense now that I'm thinking about it." He wiped his hands down the front of his button-up. "Sorry."
Casey grunted, and Chuck thought it sounded like a 'forget it, kid' sort of grunt. "Do you think you can do it?"
Chuck didn't normally make promises he couldn't keep, but he felt a need to impress these people. Not just because they were LAPD detectives, but because maybe a part of him still felt like he had a whole lot to prove. To everyone, but mostly to himself. Especially now that there was a woman involved. Well, a woman he was trying to be involved with.
An extremely mature, capable, responsible, successful badass of a woman who was simultaneously handling herself in the coolest job ever while also parenting a two and a half year old.
Okay, maybe he wanted to prove himself to her more than anything. He wanted to be more than…this. A guy who went off to help people with their tech issues, set up wireless for businesses, strip computer systems of exterior hacks, interior hacks… He wanted to be someone who provided a necessary service to those who fought crime and saved lives.
So he nodded, against his better judgment. "I can do it. Yeah."
"Sounded pretty sure of yourself there, Bartrusko," Rizzo said, pulling her chin back.
"Bartowski," both Chuck and Casey corrected at the same time. The former sent the latter a wide-eyed look, surprised, and Casey merely grunted, looking annoyed with himself as he climbed up to his feet then. "Chair's shit. You should get a better one for yourself with the check you'll get from us."
"That's fair," Chuck muttered as they both moved past him, Rizzo smacking him on the shoulder as she left.
Casey stopped at that same shoulder. "We need ya to come to the station with us. Give us the specs on this Intellicrap."
"Can I just meet you there?" Chuck asked. "If I walk out with you now, it'll look like—Well, the only way it'll look worse is if you walk me out in cuffs." He held his wrists together.
Rizzo halted and poked her head back into the office. "That can be arranged."
Chuck gave her an unamused look over his shoulder as she snickered and left, a smirking Casey leaving in her wake. He shut the door behind them and huffed in frustration at himself, pushing a hand through his curls in annoyance.
"I can do it," he muttered in a mocking voice, rolling his eyes at himself. "You fucking idiot," he snapped, smacking at a sleeve of his jacket he'd hung on his coat hanger beside the door of his office.
He'd maybe gotten himself into a bit of a pickle with this.
Or maybe he just had to do a little research.
He'd bought himself some time at least.
Hurrying around his desk, he plopped down into the chair again, which had been so comfortable even just an hour ago, and now he had Casey's grumbling tone calling it shit in his head and it got under his skin and the thing felt all hard and lumpy. Damn it, that guy was an asshole sometimes.
But before he could get anything typed into a search bar, his phone rang. "Not right now!" he snapped, before he dug in his pocket a bit violently to yank it out. But the frustration was gone immediately, a cold sweat coming over him, his heart racing, his limbs a bit tingly, and he fumbled with answering the phone, cursing at himself when his thumb slipped.
He finally answered and brought it to his ear.
"Charles Bartowski, Nerd Herd Supervisor. If you have a tech issue, press one. If you just want to ask said Nerd Herd Supervisor out on a date, press two. If it's none of the above, press three. Press four if you're tired of hearing options."
She sighed. And then, "Boop. Just so you know, I pressed four."
He winced, chuckling. "That's fair."
She giggled then, and she sighed a second time. "Hello."
"Hi, there. How are you?" he asked because he genuinely wanted to know. And any amount of urgency he'd felt about the promise he made to Casey and Rizzo was taking a backseat now. Literally everything else was taking a backseat. They could wait.
He wasn't making Sarah Walker, private investigator, wait.
"A little frazzled, but not necessarily in a bad way."
"Hm. More on that soon. But first, how's Max?"
She was quiet for a few moments and then she cleared her throat. "Happy as a lark right now because I'm letting him see Grover on our TV."
"Ah mannn. Grover will do it. If I had Grover on my TV right now, I'd also be happy as a lark, honestly. Especially if we're talking Super Grover."
"You a Super Grover fan?"
"I mean, who isn't?"
Sarah giggled. "Fair question. How are you, Chuck? It's, um, been a minute." He could almost hear a wince in her voice. "I'm sorry. I'm not doing great at finding time between all the other stuff like I said I would try to, am I?"
"You're doing just fine," he said warmly, smiling to himself. "I mean, the so-called 'other stuff' includes solving crime, and most importantly, I'm assuming, raising a toddler."
She let out an amused hum. "And boy, is he ever toddling."
That made him laugh. "Toddling hard, is he?"
"That kid does everything hard. He has no chill."
He laughed again. "Well, yeah. Because he's freakin' cool. Cool toddlers go hard. It's the cool toddler way."
Chuck heard a grin in her voice as she breathed, "I kinda miss you. Is that normal after only a few dates?"
He sat up straight, a thrill going through him. "I don't know what is or isn't normal, to be honest with you, Sarah. But either way, I'm completely fine with it. You missing me, I mean. I, uh, miss you too. But I'd miss you whether I just saw you five minutes ago or five days ago, so there's a bit of honesty for you. Just don't hang up on me for being intense. Please."
She was quiet for a few long moments. "I'm not going to hang up on you for being sweet. Whether it's intense or not. Actually, I was hoping to, um, see you. At some point."
"Soon?"
"Yeah, if at all possible."
"Hell yes." Casey and Rizzo and that damn Intellicell reared their heads at him again and he sighed. "Well, not immediately. I have a, um, job. Today. I mean, I've got an offsite job to attend to."
"I was thinking more like tonight? If you can. I was kind of presumptuous and already snagged Carina to babysit without even asking you if you're free. Probably shouldn't have done that." He heard her hiss in a wince.
"No, no. No, I'm-I'm free. Absolutely. So you were preemptively…I mean, your preemptive snagging of Carina paid off. I guess. I don't know. I can't word right now."
"I've noticed that happens to you every so often. What's the deal?" she teased.
"It's you, probably. Even when I can't see your face, your voice is enough to break my brain."
"Wowwww," she drawled, giggling. "What a line that was."
"It was pretty terrible, I know," he chuckled, shaking his head at himself.
"Maybe. But if it was that terrible, what's it say about me that I liked it?"
Chuck wasn't sure how to respond to that except by grinning like a maniac. "Uuuhhh…"
"Gotcha again, didn't I?"
"Yep." He laughed. "But I like it, so maybe there's something wrong with both of us. What do you think?"
"Probably. Do you mind?"
"Nope. Do you?"
"Not a bit."
"Good."
"Great."
There was a pause there, and he could almost feel the heat in it. Chuck shut his eyes and pushed his hand through his hair, waiting for her to start the conversation again because he didn't know what his voice would sound like if he tried to talk first.
"So what time can I get you to come to my place tonight?" she asked. "I can drive if you want."
"No, I'll-I'll drive. What do you have in mind?"
"I can text you what I drew up."
He raised his eyebrows. "You drew something up?"
"Um, depending on what time you're free, I have different possible scenarios." Chuck blinked. "I'm only realizing now I maybe went…overboard."
"No, no! No, it's okay! It's okay because…" He cleared his throat. "I'd like to see these scenarios. Text them to me. I'm not sure how long this job will take. You mind if I let you know when I'm finished? I just…won't go back to the office when I'm done. No sweat."
Scenarios? She drew up different scenarios for their date? He wanted to know what was on those scenarios. Really badly, he realized.
"Oh. Okay, that works. Um, sure. Just text me when you're finished with that job. And if you want to see them, I can send them. It's… I'm a little embarrassed now. It's silly. I was just waiting for a witness to call me back this morning and Max was napping, and I-I started doodling like a total weirdo. I'm probably gonna trash 'em—"
"No, don't be embarrassed," he said hurriedly. "Please don't trash any of it. I want to see."
"Oh." She sighed. "Okay. Well, when I get time…"
"Sure."
There was a slightly awkward pause then. "So I'll just wait for your text later then."
"Perfect. I'll try to finish up quick."
"Great. Okay. Or I mean, take your time. So… I'll talk to you then?"
"Absolutely."
They said their goodbyes and he hung up, looking down at his phone. She really threw him off. He didn't know which way was up and which way was down with this woman. And it was invigorating.
Chuck let himself stare at the Google page for a little while longer, his brain a little fried after that conversation. He'd gone days without any amount of contact with Sarah, not that he hadn't thought about her. But to see her name pop up on his phone, to hear her voice again, and now he was going to see her for their third date tonight… He was sailing.
He didn't give a fuck about any Intellicell phones or the LAPD or the contract or… Wait, yes he did. He needed to snap himself out of it. He needed to figure out what to do about that phone and he needed to familiarize himself with the model quick. He needed that extra money and he needed to impress the LAPD so that they used him again, the way he had the last time they pulled him in.
He needed to screw his head back on straight. God, he was so glad Sarah had called, and he was glad he had something to look forward to later. But for right now, what he really needed to do was focus. Her timing was perfect and then it was also sort of…not great…at the same time.
Chuck shook himself and cracked his knuckles, bringing up whatever he could find about the Intellicell, wishing he could do this with the phone actually in his hands. But this would have to do for now.
}o{
Sarah was on her way out of her office, juggling her bag, a toddler, and a trash bag that she and Max had filled during their work day with the eating and snacking they'd done, all while trying to get her key into the hole to lock the damn door, when she heard the approaching footsteps behind her.
She recognized the heavy gait and it took everything in her not to groan out loud. Not right now. God, please. Not now. Keep walking. Please.
"Need a little help there?"
Shit.
The heavy gait stopped right behind her.
Still trying to get the key in the lock, she shot a purely polite smile over her shoulder and Max's head that rested sleepily on it. "Uh, no, I got it, Mark, thanks."
"Oh come on. Here. Move."
If a half-asleep two year old wasn't in her arms, she would punch the asshole. Move? Was he serious? But she just clenched her jaw and stepped to the side as he jammed himself into her bubble and scrapped her keys out of her hand. He locked the door for her, then checked the handle. "Just in case," he said with a wink.
In case of what? A creepy and intrusive landlord wanting to break into her office to snoop?
"Well, thank you," she said quietly, recognizing the drooping eyelids of her son. She thrusted her hand out for the keys. "Have a nice day."
"Let me help you with more of this. Heading out after a hard day's work, huh?" He moved like he was going to take her bag from her and she twisted her body just so and shoved the trash bag at him instead.
"Oh great, thanks. This is trash, if you wouldn't mind tossing it for me." He was forced to take it, blinking at her in surprise. "That's so nice of you. This one's nodding off so I'm going to get him home. You have a good one, Mark."
Before she could get more than a few feet away from him, he called out. "Uh, Miss Walker! Miss Walker, wait."
She turned back and he came towards her as she shoved the keys in her bag, turning so that Max was on the other side of her, making herself a barrier between the man and her son. It was instinctual, and she supposed it always would be.
"Does he want a sticker? I've got a sticker." He pulled what looked like a shiny gold and blue police badge sticker out of his inner jacket pocket and waved it towards Max, shaking it the way you'd shake a toy at a dog before throwing it for them to fetch. "Here ya go, little guy!"
Max blinked his eyes open, a little more alert, lifted his head, gave Mark the Landlord a dismissive stink-eye she'd never seen on his face before and it was all she could do not to laugh outright. Just when she thought she couldn't love him more.
To make it even better, Max didn't even budge to take the sticker.
"He's really tired. We've had a long day," Sarah tried, to smooth it over out of sheer politeness. "And he knows not to take things from people he doesn't know super well."
"Ah, gotcha." Mark pulled his hand back. "Well, give it to him later when he's more awake."
Mark's booming voice probably wasn't helping Max's mood, either. He wasn't really used to loud people. Carina was the loudest it got, really, and that was usually only when she had enough to drink.
"Sure, thanks." She took the sticker and shoved it in her bag. "We'll see ya."
"Drive safe. Anything else I can do to help, you just let me know, Miss Walker."
She merely waved over her shoulder, not looking as she carried Max into the elevator. The doors slid shut and she sighed heavily. "Max, I don't know what to do with you," she said, moving her face to kiss his head as he laid his cheek back on her shoulder.
"What do?"
"You gave him a mean look."
"I don't 'ike him."
"You don't have to like him. I don't like him either. But we have to at least be polite because I like my office and I don't want to be kicked out. Do you understand?"
"I don't wan' dis ug'ee stickooah."
"Yeah, I noticed." She bit the inside of her cheek to show too much amusement. "I'm not mad at you, buddy. 'Kay?" She kissed his head again, stepping off the elevator and heading for the doors that led out onto the street. "And you don't have to accept behavior from strangers that you don't feel comfortable with."
"He smell funny."
Sarah couldn't help it. She barked out a laugh as she carried him across the street to where she parked. "God, I love you."
"Tank'oo Mommy."
Giggling, she opened the back door of her car and put Max into his seat, realizing she was a bit of a hypocrite for correcting her son when she was this excited to tell Carina about what Max had done to her creeper landlord.
Carina would lose her shit about it. Sarah was already chuckling just thinking about how much it was going to tickle her best friend.
And then there was the thing she hadn't really let herself think too much on for the past few hours. After struggling with the stupid straps of Max's carseat, something he again giggled and kicked through just to get her attention she thought, Sarah got behind the wheel and let herself just sit with the motor running for a solid minute, thinking about the text she was expecting at some point in the next few hours.
Or however long it took for the Buy More Nerd Herd area specialist to finish whatever job he was headed out to complete when she'd called him earlier.
Her morning had been long and completely fruitless. She made so many phone calls, following a lead that had amounted to absolutely nothing. But at least Casey had texted that they may have something that could send them in the right direction. He'd wisely not said in the text what that was. And thankfully he hadn't asked her to come in to the station.
She was tired and rundown in a way hanging on a phone for hours on end could make you by the time she looked down and saw Max trying to put a sticker of a sloth on Mub the elephant's ear. She'd been there when Max had taken a few pages of stickers and stuck them in his backpack so that he could take them on their adventures, which included his time he spent at her office when she was working and couldn't get him over to her parents. He'd been so excited about it, and she felt all the lighter knowing who'd given him those, and how much of a hit they'd been.
It had made her finally put her phone back in its cradle and pick up her cell phone instead.
And thankfully Max had let her put him on the couch for his mid-day nap, something her mom hadn't let her hear the end of because he needed a nap in the same place where he slept to make sure he slept well enough and blah blah blah. But this was what their situation allowed for and he slept just fine on the couch with blankets bundled around him. He was a heavy sleeper and had been ever since his newborn stage ended in which she'd had to get up multiple times a night for him.
So her phone call with Chuck had been made in total peace. But first, she'd checked with Carina on her availability and she'd been teased thoroughly before the lawyer agreed to babysit.
And now she and Max were on their way home, Max nodding off adorably in her rearview mirror.
She felt ridiculous for spending so much of her time between calling Carina and Chuck drawing up multiple plans, routes, and activities for the date tonight. But saying it out loud to him had been insane. What was she thinking? He had to wonder if she was some kind of nutcase now.
Sarah thought she probably was some kind of nutcase.
She was just organized, maybe less so now that she had a son, and she liked to have plans and strategies before she tackled important things. She'd had her delivery day plan stuck to her fridge for a whole month before Max was born. And even in the worst pain imaginable, contractions coming faster and faster, Sarah had made sure that her parents had followed every last bit of that strategy down to the very last word.
The P.I. couldn't help that this was just how she was. She'd been this way since she was a child, and she knew it was just an obsession with having control in every situation. Or perhaps it wasn't an obsession, but just a need. She'd always had it and Jack Walker had joked that she'd gotten it from her mom, but it was more of a defense mechanism she'd developed as a kid who hadn't grown up with a lot of friends, who hadn't been all that popular, who'd been picked on for being an introvert, for being taller than everyone else… She'd just never fit in.
And finding ways to retain control in whatever situation she found herself in, making lists, having plans and strategies, helped her to cope. And it kept her busy; it kept her from finding time to dwell on the bad stuff.
So here she was with her stupid lists that she'd shoved into her bag, preparing for a third date as if it was a queen's coronation.
He'd been sweet and polite, telling her he wanted to see them, but she thought he was just saying that to ease her embarrassment, or rather her outright mortification once she realized she'd actually just freaking told him all of that.
There was no way she was showing them to him, though. Instead, she was going to just wait for his text when he finished with his work and drown herself in prepping dinner for Carina and Max for later.
She'd just have to hope Chuck had forgotten all about the stupid lists by the time he arrived.
}o{
Casey poked his head into the conference room where they'd stuck Chuck for the last two and three-quarters hours with a laptop and the potential burn phone in question.
"Any pay dirt yet?" he asked.
Chuck sighed heavily, scratching the back of his head. "No dirt at all, pay or otherwise."
"This is gonna end up being a wild goose chase, isn't it? Because of that stupid old-ass phone." The LAPD captain stepped further into the room and shut the door securely behind him. "Anything you can say to give me just a little bit of hope?"
Chuck thought long and hard, narrowing his eyes. "Well this isn't hopeless, I can say that at least."
"What's that mean?"
"It means there's a chance I can do this. I'm just going to need more time. I'm having to jump through lots of hoops and that takes time."
"So you think you can get those numbers, then. But in due time?"
Chuck nodded. "Yeah, basically."
The police captain grunted thoughtfully. "All right, then you've got the time. Do you need to call Mommy to tell her you'll be a little late?" He snickered, seemingly proud of himself.
"My mom left when I was nine, so I don't actually have one." Captain Casey's smirk died and he blinked once, the wind effectively taken out of his sails. Take that, Chuck thought to himself, getting back to work.
"Oh. Uh. Sorry. That was, uh, I was just fuckin' with ya."
Shrugging, Chuck looked up at him. "But I do have to call my sister. She'll be very worried if I don't let her know how late I might be."
Casey widened his eyes, then smirked, grunted in amusement, and shook his pointer finger at the younger man as he left the room again.
Damn it, he had a date. A date he wasn't keen on cancelling.
If he could just get this finished, maybe he didn't have to cancel his date with Sarah. But what he knew for sure was that he had to at least warn her this was going to take a little bit longer. So he took his phone out and dialed, slumping back against the hard wooden chair and rolling his eyes at his life.
Any other day, the LAPD could've tapped him to do this job, but they chose this day.
She answered after a few long moments.
"Hi, just a second, I'm putting you on speaker so that I can keep making Max some food."
"Sure!"
Even just the sound of her voice seriously was a massive balm on his nerves. This stupid Intellicell was wrecking his damn nerves. He felt a lot of pressure on his shoulders and he'd been tense all day. Talking to her miraculously eased his muscles and made him feel an inner calm he wasn't prepared for. No matter what, it'd be okay, just so long as he got to see her again.
And he would, even if it might be a little later than he'd planned.
"Okay, all good," she chirped, and he could hear something else in the background, chopping and scraping, like she was preparing food. He also heard a child's voice saying…something. He couldn't quite make out what. "Max, honey. Just a second. Can you be quiet for Mommy for a second? I'm on the phone."
"On da phone?"
"Yes, Max. I'm on the phone. I'm so sorry, Chuck. Just a second." He heard the clang of what sounded like a knife being set down and then Sarah's voice was a little quieter. "Chuck just called me and I need to hear what he has to say. You remember Chuck, right?"
"Yes."
"I want to be able to hear what he called me about and make your hummus with veggies at the same time. But that means I need you to be quiet so I can hear him. Okay?"
"Yes." There was a slight pause. Then: "Mommy, can I heeeooo?"
"You want to hear my conversation with Chuck?"
"Yes."
Chuck heard Sarah giggle and he smiled. "Okay, sure. Um, i-is that okay with you, Chuck?" she asked him then, her voice closer to the phone this time.
"Absolutely. Hiya, Max! How are you?"
He heard a quiet, tiny grunt and then Max's voice was closer too. "Gooooood."
"That's good to hear. What are you having for dinner?"
"I ha' to pick still!" There was a sniffle sound. "This my s'ack!"
"Max, tell Chuck what you're having for a snack," Sarah said.
"It—It, uuhhhhhh, uuuhhhmussst. An' peppuhs! An' I ha' caaa'ts!"
"Hummus, peppers, and carrots," Sarah clarified as Chuck pursed his lips, trying to figure out all of his two and a half year old talk.
"Ahhhhh. Max, you like peppers?"
"Tell him it's bell peppers. They aren't so hot."
"They not hot!" Max yelled. Or maybe he was just extra close to the phone because Chuck winced and pulled the phone back, chuckling.
"I love bell peppers. Especially with hummus. I love hummus. That sounds so yummy."
"You get 'um at the stoooo'wuh."
Chuck bit back a laugh. "I can get them at the store? That's a really good tip. I'm going to have to do that. Thank you, Max."
"We'come!"
"Okay, I think Chuck called for a reason. I'm sorry," Sarah apologized again. "You can talk now, we'll be quiet."
He heard Max shushing, more of a sssssssss than a shhhhh but it did its job.
"No, it's okay," Chuck said, grinning now. "That was the best beginning of a phone call I've ever experienced, actually."
"We're glad."
"I GAD!"
Chuck winced and pulled the phone from his ear again, laughing. "Well, actually, uh… Listen, Sarah, I'm kind of…tied up with this job. I'm…kind of helping the police with something they won't tell me about. That's kind of how these jobs go sometimes."
"Wow."
"Wow wow wwooowww wah wah wah woowwiiee wah wowwww," Max began to chant. Sarah must have clamped her hand over his mouth then because his manic giggle sounded muffled.
Chuck could only laugh again. "Yes, wow. I can hardly believe I get to do jobs like this either. But um, it's getting a little stressful if I'm being honest. Which is why I might be later than I originally planned and I-I wanted to tell you."
"Oh. That's—"
"Mommy, can I ha' dat spoon? I wanna uhmusttt."
"Hummus, buddy. It's huh-muss."
"Uhmust!"
"Close enough. I was going to say, um, Chuck, please don't worry about it. Nobody knows better than I do about plans being changed last-minute because of unforeseen circumstances." She must've licked hummus off of her fingers then because he could hear it. "I've got nothing else going on tonight and Carina won't be here for a while anyway. So please don't sweat it."
"Don't s'et eht! Mommy, what dis?"
"It means not to worry. People sweat when they worry," she explained.
"GWOSS!"
Chuck cracked up, rocking forward. "Max, you're a legend!"
Sarah was giggling as well, but she sounded embarrassed at the same time as she interrupted the frivolity. "Chuck, just keep me posted. If the job you're helping them with is stressful, don't let this add unnecessary stress for you, okay? I'm fine. Just text me whenever you're done."
"I will. I absolutely will."
"Mmmm. Mommy, peppuh. Peppuh."
"Here's your pepper, pal. Now sh. And Chuck, thank you. I mean, for updating me. I'm sorry this phone call was, um…such a cluster…eff."
He laughed and then he heard Max ask his mom, "What dis?"
Sarah masterfully avoided answering. "Here, look at this carrot. What color is the carrot, Max?"
"OHNGE!"
"Orange! Great work, honey."
"This was actually the most fun I've had on the phone ever, and I attribute that to you, Max. You're a great phone conversationalist."
"Ca'aat goes conch conch conch conch." Chuck heard loud crunching, tiny teeth smashing up a carrot between them.
"See? Just to prove my point."
Sarah giggled. "Okay, I'm going to rescue you and hang up. I'll talk to you later?" Her voice was clearer then and he couldn't hear Max's crunching anymore, and he thought maybe she'd taken it off of speaker phone now.
"You will. I'll text you and hopefully it'll be sooner rather than later."
"I'm hoping for sooner," she said, warmth in her voice, "but I won't be upset with you if it's later. Max, please don't sing with your mouth full," she mumbled, muffled but he could still make it out. She'd probably tried to put her hand over the phone. "But good luck, Chuck. With the job. I've seen you work and I know whatever it is, you'll kick it's butt."
Max laughed loudly. "YOU SAY BUTT, MOMMY! Butt butt butt butt buuuutt…"
Chuck couldn't stop himself from giggling childishly even if he wanted to. "Thank you, Sarah. That means a lot. I could use all the luck I can get. This is…a tough one."
"Even for you?"
He heard flirtation and he smiled slowly. "Yeah, even for me."
"Dang. Well, like I said, don't worry about me. Just concentrate on the job. You can do it. Right, Max? Tell Chuck that he can do it."
"You ca' do it!" the little voice said into the phone.
"Aw, thank you, Max!"
"Talk to you later?" Sarah asked then.
"Yes. Absolutely. I've got some butt to kick first."
She giggled. "Okay, 'til then. Wanna say bye to Chuck, Max?"
"Byyyyyeeeeeee!"
Chuck pulled the phone from his ear for a second to protect his eardrum one last time, chuckling. "Bye, Max!" he called back. "Bye, Sarah! I'll see you both later!"
When he hung up, Chuck was beaming. He looked down at the work ahead of him, cracked his knuckles, and, with this newfound drive he'd gotten from the call with the P.I. family, Chuck went back to trying to crack the Intellicell wide open (figuratively) to discover what was hidden inside of it.
}o{
"Va-va-va-voom, Blondie."
Sarah rolled her eyes and walked away from the door she'd just opened for Carina.
"No, seriously. Pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?"
The redhead shut the door behind her and let out a yawn, pulling her bag off of her shoulder and letting it flop to the ground.
"His work kept him later, so this is the later date scenario. Later means fancier restaurant, which means fancier clothes. So…voila." She gestured up and down her body. She'd picked out a dress this time, burgundy with black seams. It bunched stylishly in some places and clung to her in the best places, stopping an inch above her knee.
"I'm so glad I get to see his face when he sees you in this. It's going to be a total crack up, Sar." Sarah turned away so that her friend didn't see her blush, heading for the kitchen to try to clean up a bit more after she'd fed Max his dinner. Of course he'd only eaten the berries, the squash, and the tater-tots, leaving the chicken virtually untouched. But at least he'd eaten something.
"Hold on," Carina piped up again, following her. "You told him it'd be fancier, right?" Sarah gave her a questioning look over her shoulder as she slid the oven sheet into her sink. "Well, so he doesn't show up at your door in, like, biker shorts and a tank top."
"Why the hell would he show up in biker shorts?"
"Good point, he doesn't really look like an exerciser…"
"He does too, stop it."
"Well not like a bicyclist. They've got these thighs, Sar. Phew."
"Okay, enough. Yes, I did tell him." She moved to turn the sink on, but found herself physically bumped away from the sink. "Hey! What's that for?"
"Are you kidding me? And you don't even have an apron on. Even with the apron, I'd be like what the fuck?" She whispered the last part, thankfully. "You want this nice, shiny, spotless dress to stay nice, shiny, and spotless I'm assuming?"
"Yeah I do. Shit. Good point."
"Reeeeenaaa!"
Carina gave Sarah one last push away from the sink, making her laugh as her friend knelt down and gathered Max into a tight hug, lifting him off the floor. "Hi, Mister Max."
"'Lo, Miss Ar-eena!"
"Are you excited to hang out with Auntie tonight until it's bedtime?"
"Yes!" And then his eyes went big. And his mouth deepened into a frown. God, his bottom lip quivered then.
"What's the matter?" Carina asked, giving him a bit of a bounce to her hip.
"I don'anna go to bed'uh!" Big tears began to cascade down his face.
"You don't have to go yet," Sarah tried to explain, stepping in to stroke his hair back from his forehead. "It isn't bedtime for a little while. Why are you crying? Aww, babyyy…" She bit her lip to keep from chuckling. Not because this was particularly funny, really. But truly, sometimes her son was very melodramatic. Which… she supposed that was what toddlers were supposed to do: melodrama.
He stopped then, just as fast, wiping his face with his palms messily, his cheeks wet and red.
"Feel better now that you let it out?" Carina asked.
"Yeeeah…!"
Both women laughed at how happy his response had been. His comedic timing was so precise sometimes, she didn't understand how this wasn't an adult in a toddler's body.
"I have an idea. Why don't you read Mubsy your book about the goat for a little while?"
"No, Mubs gonna 'ead to meee," he corrected, smiling and poking himself in the chest with a pudgy little thumb. "Mub mub mub mub mub," he repeated, his lip clamped between his teeth as he tilted his head back. And Carina took him out of the kitchen and into the living room where a few of his books were piled in the corner.
Sarah didn't do any dishes, but she did at least wipe down the counter. And she nearly jumped as Carina swung back into the kitchen with a, "What did I say?"
"I'm not splashing or anything, I'm just wiping the counter with this cloth that's barely damp!" she defended herself, tossing the cloth to the sink and holding her hands up in surrender.
Carina glared. "I get it, you aren't used to wearing this fancy stuff ever since you had Max, but I'm trying to look out for you in areas you seem not to be able to look out for yourself in."
"Haaaaa," Sarah sassed with deep sarcasm.
"So date three, huh?" Carina sidled up to the counter next to her and bumped her with her shoulder.
Sarah ducked her head and shrugged. "Date three."
"I'm glad, don't get me wrong. But I'm just kind of…interested, I guess." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "I just mean, it's really interesting."
"Why do you say it like that?"
"Like what?"
Rolling her eyes, she gestured at Carina with her best duh face.
"Okay, I heard it that time," the redhead said with an innocent shrug. "It's just really interesting to me that since Max, you've sort of diverted onto this path of…I don't know how to say this delicately so I'm gonna go with bull in a china closet—"
"Can't wait."
"—Sarah, you pick non-starters."
Sarah blinked. "Excuse me?" Should she be offended?
"Sorry, it's the truth."
So she should be offended.
"Hold on, what's that mean? I pick non-starters… Are you saying I pick duds? That's rude."
"I didn't say you pick duds. I said you pick non-starters. That doesn't necessarily mean they're bad in general, just that they're bad…for you." Sarah narrowed her eyes threateningly. "They're non-starters, and you do it on purpose. You pick guys you don't have a whole lot in common with and maybe have less of a connection with, who you know you can trust to fuck up somehow so you can cut 'em loose and move on. You pick guys you don't see any kind of future with."
"That's not fair. I don't just go out with some random guy because I think they're going to be awful for me. I date a guy because I like him, because I'm interested."
"And heretofore, Sar, you've been interested in and liked guys who you see yourself with in maybe a week, two, maybe even three…but look much further than that, and fwoosh they're gone." She gave a magic wave of her hand through the air.
Sarah crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous. What are you, some tarot card reader now?"
"No, I don't read tarots. I wish I was that cool. But I am your best friend and I've been seeing it happen for, like, two whole years, kid. I'm a lawyer, I observe people as a part of my job, and my observations of your dating decisions are spot on."
"Says you."
"Yeah, says I."
The blonde gave the redhead a genuine glare then. "Well, how about this then? I'd prefer you not call this guy a non-starter right before our third date. Even if I try to stop it from happening, that's the kind of shit that's going to get stuck to my brain and crawl under my skin. And it'll fuck this up and become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I really, really don't want that happening, considering I like this guy a lot."
Carina's eyes slowly widened as she reared her head back. "Geeeeeez. That happens to be the point I'm making, Huffy McHufferson." She whistled under her breath and Sarah glared again. "He isn't a non-starter at all, and that's not what you do. You don't go after non-non-starters, Sarah. This guy…? I've only seen you interact with each other, like, once. And it was for, like, a cumulative ten minutes at the most. But it is a sight to behold. Not to mention, he turned around to bring Lovey back for Max. And Max is my favorite, so that act alone was enough to move him off the non-starter tier. That right there is a starter move."
Sarah chuckled. "Yep."
Carina rolled her eyes and groaned then. "Sarah, are you even listening?"
"Yeah, but what's your point?"
"I haven't come up with the right word for it, but it'll come to me. He's just got all this…potential, though. Like, he just has the energy of a guy that a girl could get used to the idea of…going the distance with him. He's sweet," she said with a shrug.
"Yeah, he is." Sarah nodded slowly, biting her cheek to keep from smiling too hard.
"And he also tries pretty hard, but there's also this good balance to it. Like, he's trying just hard enough for it to be flattering and sweet and heartwarming, but not too hard where you just feel sad for him. And that goes for how he was with Max. Definitely not a natural, didn't go full Mary Poppins with our boy. Like, he was obviously nervous out of his mind, but…he was just kind and respectful. You know how rare it is for adults to treat toddlers with genuine respect. You're a parent of a toddler."
Sarah leaned back against the counter further and pondered what Carina had just said. "You're right. About the respect thing," she finally decided. "But I still want to know what your point is. Aren't you lawyers supposed to be good at this whole getting your point across thing?"
"Shut up." Carina poked her in the shoulder with her nail.
"Ow!" Sarah hissed, grabbing her shoulder.
"My point is that you usually pick the guys without the potential so that when the ties are, in your mind, inevitably cut, it doesn't hurt so bad, it doesn't rip a piece of you off with 'em." She shrugged. "Ergo, your continuing to hang out with this guy is interesting. He's going to dig deep under your skin and I'm just surprised that's something you're into."
Sarah grit her teeth, taking a deep breath, Carina's words stinging.
Was she right? Sarah didn't even know if she was right or not. All she knew was that she'd accepted Chuck's date invitation because she'd liked him. And she kept seeing him because every time she did, she liked him exponentially more than she had the last time she saw him. She kept seeing him because it felt good to be around him.
She hadn't gone into this thinking about anything other than how it felt in the present.
Had that been a mistake? Because apparently Carina had put something together in her behavior that she hadn't. Maybe that whole separating yourself emotionally thing…
Either way, she was annoyed.
"I don't know why you do this every time."
"What do I do every time?" Carina asked, thrusting her hands out in a shrug.
"You get inside my head and make me hyper focus on stuff I hadn't even thought about 'til you introduced it. It isn't fair. Now…" She glanced at the analog clock on the microwave. "He's probably on his way by now. So I'm literally just minutes away from going out on a third date with this potential-full guy who I'll most likely be wondering intense future-y things about…instead of just a sweet guy who I like and who I can't wait to see again. It's like you're sabotaging my dating life on purpose now. You, the best friend constantly telling me how bad I need to loosen up and find myself a man so I can get laid."
"Hey! This isn't sabotage, Blondie. I'm doing the opposite. I'm helping you out by advising you to go into this with both eyes open. I want you feeling comfortable with the prospect of this guy getting his claws deep in your skin before you dive in headfirst, that's all. Or you're gonna get wrecked by this." She shook her head morosely. "This one has the potential to cause some major wreckage."
"I tell you to stop and you keep going. So…what? You want me to call him up and tell him to turn around and go right back home because I can't date him anymore due to the fact that he has the potential to become a lasting part of my life? Do you realize how nuts that is? We're going on a date, only the third one, I'll remind you. Can you not make this way more serious than it is? God, I swear, between you and the parents, it's so annoying trying to date around here. Ironically, the toddler is the best behaved one of the lot." She raised her eyebrow at Carina.
"Okay, okay, fine. I'm sorry. Just making conversation."
"Dangerous conversation. Which is fine until it's this kind of danger."
"What kind? Man danger?"
Sarah snorted. "Oh God, that sounds like the title of a 'fifties doo-wop girl group song."
Carina laughed and Max came stomp-walking around the corner into the kitchen. "Mommy, wawa."
"WaTER, Max. Okay? Remember? We don't use wawa anymore. It's waTER." Sarah moved to grab Max's water off of the counter, handing it down to him. "Here you go, sweetheart."
He took it and tilted his whole body back practically to take a few long gulps. And then he lowered the double handled cup, both hands on either side, and let out a refreshed, "Ahhhh!", some of the water dribbling down his cheek and neck, wetting the collar of his shirt.
"Tank'oo fuh da…WAH-Tooah."
"You're welcome." She knelt down to kiss the top of his head as he toddled off again.
"Look, I'm sorry, Sar. I'm not trying to get in your head. I'm just interested in how different he is from…before. That's all it is. I'll shut up though. I'm done."
"Good," Sarah chirped. "Because—" There was a knock at the door. "Shit, he's here."
A/N: SHIT, HE'S THERE. To be continued in the next chapter. But also nothing pleases me more than an annoying douchebag of a person getting summarily dismissed by a toddler who sees right through the fake BS. Kids are smart. And they know. Hehehehe.
Please review. Thanks folks.
-SC