A/N: Thanks for reading. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own "Chuck" and I'm not making any money writing this.
"Ma'am, we just ask that you stay inside once the storm hits. The building is perfectly safe. We've prepared for it so that our guests don't have to," the concierge was saying.
"And if the power goes out?" the guest asked, her hand around her son's shoulder. He didn't seem to mind the storm much at all, as he'd snagged a brochure, opened it, and was wearing it like a hat.
"We've prepared for that, too, ma'am." The concierge turned to Chuck who was waiting patiently to the side. "May I help you, sir?"
"Oh, um, yes. 'Scuse me," he said to the woman. He gave his suite number and name. "I was wondering if I could have tissue and toilet paper sent up. I stupidly left the Do Not Disturb sign on my door this morning when I left. Wasn't even thinkin' about it."
"Of course, sir. It'll be right up."
"Thanks so much." He was about to leave, and then he turned to the kid with the brochure hat and pointed at him, smirking, "I like your style, my dude."
And then he swept away. It had been an hour and a half since he'd gotten Sarah's "Home safe!" text. He'd asked her, "How safe is safe?" and she'd replied with a smile emoji and a, "Cuddled up on my couch with tea and I've got a mindless movie going til they turn off power."
He'd texted periodically with her since then. Because it made him feel good. But also because it was a distraction.
When he discovered he was low on paper products, he'd decided to go all the way down to the desk to ask for it, because it meant doing something instead of just sitting around and waiting. The hotel staff had this system down, though. They'd really prepped the grounds of the hotel in case of storm surge, though the folks tracking the hurricane online thought storm surge wouldn't be too much of a problem for Kauai. The big island of Hawaii had gotten some storm surge that was flooding a few of their streets close to the coastline, but so far, it looked like everyone had prepared well throughout the islands.
So while Chuck Bartowski knew there wasn't a lot he had to worry about, he was still worried. The rain was starting to pound outside and it had already gotten dark now, the sun gone. There was something infinitely worse about a storm hitting at night instead of during the day. He wouldn't be able to see what was going on out there. They wouldn't know what was coming.
He passed a worker who was dry mopping the floor after guests dragged water in and glanced out of the nearby window. This was madness. He was on vacation for four weeks out of the entire year and Mother Nature sent her fury to Kauai now. She couldn't have waited a month or so for when he was back in LA and not on vacation.
What if it was worse than they said and the island looked like a disaster zone after? The rest of his vacation would be like the aftermath scenes from those end of the world, natural disaster movies. Would flights even be leaving in a week and a half if that were the case? Would the airports be closed?
"Excuse me…sir?" He turned to see that the worker had stopped mopping and was peering at him. "Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"
"Oh, no. No, thank you. Just…watching what's going on out there."
The man smiled kindly and nodded. "Don't you worry about that storm, sir. This is the best place to be. The storm is to the west of us which means we'll get the bad winds, but it won't be as bad as it was for the other islands, and no flooding which is usually the worst part. Nothing to worry about."
"Oh. Yeah, I'm not too worried." He chuckled at himself for the boldfaced lie. He was too worried. Stupid levels of worried.
"This is the safest place to be," the man repeated.
Maybe it was. But Chuck suddenly didn't want to be here. He bit his lip and then glanced down at his watch. It was a little after eight. "Sir, do you know when the storm is really supposed to hit?" he asked the man.
"Hm. What time is it?"
"Eight-seventeen," he said.
"I'd say about two hours. Maybe less?"
"Are car services still working?" he asked.
"C-Car services…? Oh, you mean taxis…"
"Yeah. Taxis, Lyft, Uber…"
"Taxis, yes, for another hour maybe but they'll pull them all in soon. I suggest you don't go anywhere, sir. This is the safest place there is."
Chuck ignored him. "Thanks very much for the information."
He strode back towards the elevators and took his phone out, unlocking it. NO SERVICE was up in the top corner of the screen. He pulled up Sarah's number anyway, trying to call it, but he had no luck.
The woman who got into the elevator with him smiled. "Yeah, I tried to call my dad back home to let him know I'm okay but service is gone."
"Bummer," he breathed, trying to send a text anyway. He typed out a quick, "Hi" and pressed send, even though he was one hundred percent sure it wouldn't. He was right. It didn't. And he huffed in frustration.
Instead, he tried his Lyft app. Of course that wasn't working, either.
The drivers were all locked away in safe places. Of course nobody was going to do any Lyft or Uber shifts with a hurricane coming. All he could do was hope taxis were down in the roundabout when he got there.
It took him five minutes to get back downstairs, his suitcase in hand, a windbreaker on over a sweatshirt. He walked past some perplexed people but ignored them, pushing through the revolving doors and skidding to a stop next to the valet desk.
"I suspect there's no way to call a taxi for me, is there?" he asked the teenager standing there.
"Wha—? Uh…I-I don't think so."
"Damn it."
"Sir, this is the safest pl—"
But a taxi pulled up right then, a family getting out, grabbing their things and rushing inside, looking frazzled. Chuck leaned down and stuck his head in. "You taking a fare? I'll give you double the meter if you take me up that hill."
The man frowned a bit, thoughtfully. "Where you going?"
Chuck told him Sarah's address.
"Well. That's in the right direction. Hop in."
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Thank you! You're the best!"
Chuck pulled back out of the taxi and spun to see the teenager was holding his suitcase.
"Sir, this is, er, this is the safest place to be," he said, seemingly perplexed Chuck was leaving in spite of how many times he'd told him the hotel's favorite phrase tonight, apparently. They probably told them all to tell guests that.
"Oh, I know it is. But…" He grabbed the suitcase and slid it across the seat, turning back to the young man and licking his lips. He put his hand on the guy's shoulder. "You have a chance to spend the hurricane with an insanely beautiful and interesting woman, or to spend it in a big ol' suite totally alone. What would you choose?"
"Uh…sir, this is the safest…er…place…"
"Not a big fan of romantic comedies, are ya?" He went into his pocket and gave the kid a big tip. "Stay safe, friend."
"Hey, thanks, mister!"
He saluted him and got into the taxi, slamming the door shut behind him.
}o{
It wasn't until he was almost there, the wind pushing and pulling at the taxi, that he wondered if this was mistake. The storm was worse as they drove west in the direction of Sarah's neighborhood up on the hill. The wind was a lot more powerful. And Chuck wondered if the hotel wasn't actually feeding their guests a line after all. Maybe it was the safest place to be when the hurricane hit.
But he didn't want to be there alone. He was scared, yes. But he also wanted to be with her. He'd much rather be scared not alone.
He'd been an idiot today, and again tonight. He'd let jealousy creep in, making him feel like less of a man. He tried to be above that kind of idiotic behavior. He really tried. Ellie had thunked him on the head for it in the past before, told him, "Stop being such a stereotypical man. It's a bad look for you."
She would've thunked him on the head for this.
Definitely.
Or maybe a full blown slap to the back of his head. Because this was a shameful display of empty bravado. And instead of driving in a metal box through insane winds to her house, he might be cuddled up with her—either in her home or in his suite if he'd had the courage to just ask her to stay like he'd wanted to.
And now he was going to show up at her door, pounding on it, wet and windswept, and he had no idea if he'd be welcomed. She'd really have no choice. And he'd invade her space, uninvited. And it would be terribly rude and awkward. He knew she wouldn't send him out into the elements again. But this was crazy. He was really starting to rethink things now. Now that it was too late.
"Man, you're crazy! Look, I can't get this taxi up that hill. Too much debris in the streets already. I physically can't get this thing up there. Where you want me to take you?"
"Get me as far up as you can and I'll walk," Chuck said, his voice more determined than he was feeling.
"What?! What kind of a woman is it you're going to, man?" the driver asked, pulling the car slowly up the hill until he couldn't go any further. It was maybe thirty feet further than he'd been at the bottom of the hill, but Chuck would take it.
"Oh, my friend," he panted, going into his wallet and giving the man twice the amount on the meter, just like he'd promised. "She's the goddess Calypso in the most beautiful human form you could possibly imagine. And she's nice."
"Damn! Well…good luck, kid."
"Thanks. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Drive safe, brother." They shook hands and Chuck grabbed his suitcase, taking a deep breath, tucking it up against his chest, and bursting out into the storm.
Oh God, it was worse than he'd thought it'd be. And he'd thought it'd be pretty bad. The rain pelted at him, the wind blowing his hood off of his head immediately, and it all just beat on him terribly.
The taxi stayed for a few moments as he started his climb towards Sarah's house, almost as if the driver thought maybe this insane man might gain his wits about him and come back. But then he heard it peel off finally. His fate was sealed.
Not for the first time in his life, he was glad for his tall frame. It meant he wasn't going to be blown right off of this hill. Hopefully. He wouldn't bet on it, though.
But he just kept going, trying to move as fast as he could, walking on the side of the street that felt like it was getting less of the wind. Or maybe that was just in his head. Whatever worked, he supposed.
He was going to show up looking so ridiculous and feeling worse, but she'd be worth this.
Hopefully.
Hopefully he wasn't forcing his presence on her. God, he felt so stupid.
This might completely injure his standing with her. She'd think he was some sort of absolute nut who was needy and clingy, or she'd just think he was a regular ol' nut. And either way, after the storm passed, she'd ghost him or something. He was too bogged down by the storm, too determined to keep moving forward to realize how unfair and stupid his thoughts about Sarah were. The wind was rattling his brain, making his knees shake.
But then he saw her house looming up there, between the palm trees that were swaying, the same palm trees the city had come out to trim for her the other day when they thought a storm was coming. Thankfully. She didn't need those coming through the roof.
He just kept murmuring keep going, keep going, keep going…his lips numb from the wind and rain. His eyes were watering. His teeth chattering. In moments, his fingers would stop working and his suitcase would crash to the ground and get blown all the way back down the hill again and he'd end up having to hurry down to get it and start the unending trek back up from scratch.
And then he was there. And he practically leapt up onto her porch, in the semi safety under that overhang, and he pressed his face to the wood of the door in relief, reaching up to slam his fist against it a few times.
He waited, wondering if the wind was whistling too loud for her to hear. Or maybe she was in the shower, or taking a bath. What if he stood out here through the whole storm? He'd die. He slammed his fist against her door harder.
God, he was such an idiot. He was so stupid. So God damn stupid.
And then the door opened, and he stood there, his fist up, dripping wet, his fingers still clutching his suitcase to his chest, knuckles white.
"Hi."
"Chuck!" she breathed in utter shock, reaching out to grab him and pulling him inside. They both had to work to shut the door and she bolted it, immediately turning around to give him a wide-eyed, gaping stare. "Are you insane?! What are you doing?!"
"Um…being a complete ass. First of all. Because I really didn't wanna do this whole hurricane thing alone. But Judd got inside my head and I'm such a loser. Like, I fell for the macho manly shit hook line and sinker. Like a total dumbass. I let my wounded ego make me do a stupid thing which led to me doing another stupid thing and I'm so stupid, Sarah."
"I don't really know what you're talking about but let's get you out of this wet stuff." She grabbed his suitcase from him and put it down at her feet, looking up at him through her eyelashes as she unzipped his jacket and pushed it off of his shoulders. "You realize you're insane, right? Going out there in this? Like, clinically out of your mind."
"I know. And now I've trapped you. I just showed up right when the storm is really coming through and you're stuck with me here. I just…invited myself. But the—My phone, it has no service. I was going to call but I couldn't. I tried texting, too, but it wouldn't go through. So I just…came anyway. I'm sorry."
She let out a breath in disbelief, shaking her head. "You're absolutely nuts, Chuck. All you had to do was ask and I would've stayed with you. Or you could've packed a bag and I would've brought you here with me." She giggled, her eyes still wide as she hung his jacket next to the door. She reached up to smooth a hand over his wet hair and shook it off to the side, sending droplets everywhere. "Jesus… How did you even get here? What kind of maniac is doing Lyft right now?"
"No one. The app isn't even working." She blinked. "You don't think I tried that first? I had to jump into this guy's taxi that a family had just gotten out of and made the driver take me here."
"Oh. Well, that's good. I guess, at least you weren't really outside except for when you went from the street to my door."
He winced and she gave him a dubious look.
"Well…uh, not exactly."
"What do you mean, not exactly?" She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms at her chest.
"There was debris at the bottom of your street, so he came up as far as he could which, uh, was, like…thirty feet maybe? I dunno, I'm not good at gauging distance, especially during a hurricane. But, uh, I walked the rest of the way."
"What?! You walked up that hill in this?!" she exclaimed, gesturing outside. "Oh my God, you are out of your mind! That is so dangerous, Chuck!"
"I know. I'm sorry I just showed up like this. And I'm dripping all over your nice floor."
"I don't give a fuck about my floor, you idiot. You could've been killed out there! I would've been in here all safe and sound in my house that you helped me reinforce and you'd be down at the bottom of the hill dead in a ditch the whole time. Oh my God." She put a hand to her forehead.
"I wasn't really thinking about that. I was just thinking about you."
"I hate how romantic that is, because it's making it really hard for me to be mad at you for doing something so stupid." She paused. "And there's the fact that it's getting legitimately scary outside and I suddenly didn't really want to be alone. Lo and behold, you just…showed up at my door."
Before he could say anything, she mumbled something about getting him a towel and she rushed off, disappearing from sight.
Chuck stood there, dripping, a smile growing on his face.
Yep.
This was totally worth it.
She came back into the room a few moments later, tossing him the towel. "That should take the edge off. Get those wet shoes and socks off of your feet and I'll turn on the shower for you."
"Shower?"
"I'm not letting you spend the whole hurricane chilled from being outside in that wind and rain. I don't know how long we'll have running water, if that's gonna be a problem or not, so you're getting in that shower now." She watched as he toweled off a bit and he looked down at her, draping the towel around his shoulders. "What?" she asked when he maybe looked at her a bit long.
"It wasn't my intention to show up here and have you dote on me, Sarah," he said quietly.
"Well, suck it up, California." She giggled and gestured to his feet. He took her wordless order and knelt down to start taking his shoes off. "You're also drinking some hot tea when you finish your shower and get some dry clothes on."
She reached up and gave his wet sweatshirt a bit of a flirtatious tug. "Take this off, too. I've got some free hangers in the closet there and you can hang it up."
He nodded and watched her leave again, trying to focus on this instead of that out there. The wind was starting to pick up as he set his wet shoes by the door next to a pair of neon blue rain boots. He peeled his socks off and draped them over his shoes, took his sweatshirt off and hung it in the closet like she suggested, then moved down the hallway in the direction of her bedroom.
Chuck heard the running water as he pushed into the bedroom, and halted as she stepped out of her bathroom with a smile.
"It's all yours," she said. "Fresh towel is hanging on the right side of the rack. Mine is on the left."
"Thank you, Sarah. Seriously."
She nodded. "Water's nice and hot."
He stopped at the door and glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
"What, you think I didn't know you kept sneakily reaching around me and making the water hotter the other day when we showered together? You underestimate me, Curls." She smirked.
Chuck bit his lip and shook his head, deciding a reply wasn't necessary. And what could he really say to that anyway? He just ducked inside of the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack, undressed, and got into the shower, glad the pounding sound of the water was drowning out the wind that was really starting to howl outside.
Trying not to stay in the shower too long, just in case she was right about the water maybe being turned off, he waited until the chill in his bones was gone before he turned off the shower and got out.
It wasn't until he was drying off that he realized he hadn't brought any dry clothes with him. His suitcase sat by the front door, probably still wet from his trek up that hill through the storm.
Rolling his eyes at himself, he tied his towel at his waist and pulled the door open, stopping as he realized his suitcase was sitting there at his feet just outside of the bathroom door. He blinked down at it in confusion.
He heard a giggle from the bed and looked up to find Sarah lounging on her bed, a book propped in her lap. She was gazing up at him over the book, amusement in her blue eyes. "Yeah, I realized you'd forgotten your clothes and I didn't think you'd appreciate me digging through your stuff, so I brought you the entire suitcase."
"Oh, thank God," he said, putting a hand over his heart in teasing relief. "I thought it had walked here on its own for a second."
"Shut up, you ass!" she laughed, shutting her book and setting it aside.
He grinned cheekily, wrinkling his nose, and popped his suitcase open, grabbing a pair of boxers and pulling them on under the towel. He tugged the towel off then and began to scrub at his hair, crossing the room and peering over at her book, an eyebrow raised. "Whatcha readin'? Shakespeare?"
She made a face. "That isn't all I read."
"Well, what is it? Is it a filthy romance novel?"
"No!" She cracked up and grabbed it, offering it to him. "I think they call them cozy mysteries."
"Cozy mystery?" He chuckled and turned the book over to look at the cover. "Night and the Biscotti Literati?" he asked, chuckling a bit harder. "This is pretty damn adorable."
"Shut up. They're fun. Corny, maybe. Predictable, sure. But fun."
"I'm not judging," he said, smiling and turning it over. "Julia O'Brien enjoys the Thursday night book club at her small town rec center. Biscotti, tea, and mystery. But when their newest member, the quiet and shy Lucy, disappears, Julia's daytime job as a DA causes her to suspect foul play." Chuck lowered the book. "Is it good?"
"It's fine," she giggled, shrugging.
There was a loud howling whoosh of wind outside and then the frightening sound of something cracking. Was it the roof? Was it a tree being snapped in half by the wind? He froze, either way. "Um…"
Sarah pulled her legs into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Yeah, that was a bad sound."
"Not fun. Not having fun." He gulped and shivered, looking up at the ceiling.
"C'mere." She reached up towards him with one hand and he crossed to her side, letting her grab his hand and pull him down next to her. He flopped onto his back, peering up at her, and she dropped her hand to his hair. His eyelids fluttered at how good it felt, and then the howling sound happened again and there was a thump against the wall.
His eyes snapped open, wide. "Did the wind just throw something against your house?"
"Uh, probably. But it's a pretty sturdy house. You don't have to worry."
"What if the wind throws a bigger thing against your house?"
"Chuck, it's gonna be okay," she said, stroking his hair. And then she smiled, giving a curl a bit of a tug. It sent a nice shiver through him. "I like how much curlier your hair gets when its wet."
"That is how that works."
She laughed and gave his chest a soft smack. "Stop being so snarky."
"Sorry. Sometimes I revert to sarcasm when I'm uncomfortable."
Sarah gestured around them. "What about this lovely home of mine has made you uncomfortable?" He threw her a flat look and she giggled. "I see what you mean about the sarcasm. That look was blistering."
"Sorry." He winced.
"It's okay," she said, still smiling reassuringly. "I can handle sarcasm."
"Oh, I know you can. I'm pretty sure you can handle just about anything, because you're a bad ass. But you deserve better than having to deal with a sarcastic asshole while there's a hurricane outside." He reached up to gently tap her chin with his finger, making her giggle. "Especially after you took me in."
"I didn't really have much of a choice there." She laughed at his faux affronted look. "Seriously, why did you wait until the hurricane was about to hit to come here? All you had to do was use your words. I figured you didn't say anything and were okay, so I just went home." She slid her fingers through his hair again. "You did help me protect my house. It just makes sense you're in here for the storm."
"I know. I know, I just didn't…" He winced.
"What?"
Chuck pushed himself to sit up, and then he huffed and ruffled his hair with both hands in frustration. He was embarrassed by his foolishness earlier. "I fell into the machismo trap."
"The what?" she chuckled.
He just groaned and dropped his chin to his chest.
"Does this, um…have anything to do with the gift shop? And, uh, Judd?"
His only response was an uncomfortable look up through his eyelashes.
"Waaaait. Did you get jealous? Aw, Chuuuuuck…" she drawled, tilting her head adorably.
"Don't 'aww' me. It's not that simple…"
Sarah mimicked zipping her lips and rested her elbows on her knees, peering at him, waiting for him to explain further, he knew.
He sighed. "Sarah, I'm afraid of the ocean. That guy you dated climbs up to mountain cabins during hurricanes and is in surfing competitions." She didn't say anything but narrowed her eyes. "It got under my skin. You're all about adventure and outdoorsy stuff and I'm an LA guy. I'm a city boy. I'm…again, afraid of the ocean."
"And?" She shrugged. "Chuck, I've not been through what you went through. Having to watch a friend of yours drown, almost drowning yourself. And I doubt Judd's been through something like that, either. Stop saying you're afraid of the ocean like it's something you should be ashamed of."
"I'm not, really."
"Yes, you are. You're comparing yourself negatively to a guy who is basically a walking, talking joke of a person." He gave her a look and she gave him one back. "I'm not apologizing for dating him, so don't think I'm gonna. I met him right after I moved here and he was really good at sex, which was exactly what I needed." Chuck winced inwardly as she shrugged. "Until I didn't need it anymore. And that was fine with both of us. But please, for God's sake, do not think he's better than you in any way. In the first place, he's lying about the stupid mountain cabin. He always lied about stupid shit like that. He's probably in his apartment in Ele'ele smoking a joint and drinking Red Bull and vodka."
Chuck blinked. "Oh."
That put things into perspective. And it made him feel even more foolish.
"You read too many comic books if you think any of what he said was real."
"Point." He winced. "You've got a point."
"What does any of that have to do with you staying in your hotel room during the hurricane? I still don't get it," she said, shaking her head.
"I don't want to keep using you as some sort of security net, or-or a comfort blanket." He ducked his head and blushed, scratching the back of his neck. "Hurricane hits and I'm like, 'protect me, Sarah!' And meanwhile this guy you used to date is being a fearless bad ass. It got to me. That's what I meant by falling into the machismo trap. I didn't want to feel like…" He huffed. "I feel dumb even saying it."
"What?"
"Gaaah, like less of a man. I'm not proud of it, but I'm being honest about the stupid stuff that happened in my brain."
She chuckled and he sent her a droll look. "You kind of deserve to be made fun of a little bit for that. I mean, sorry. But come on, Chuck. You're better than that." She winced then. "Sorry, I'm being kind of a jerk. I don't know you super well, so I shouldn't say crap like that. But I still think you're better than any kind of…'machismo trap'."
"Apparently, I'm not," he droned, leaning his chin on his palm and sending her a self-deprecating look. "Since I walked right into it. But trust me when I say I'm embarrassed. Mortified, even." He smirked. "I do appreciate you thinking I am better, though. That's kinda nice."
She giggled at his toothy grin. "You have your faults, but it somehow makes me like you even better."
"So would now be a good time to tell you about how clumsy I am?" he asked, chuckling as she snorted. "I mean, tripping over stuff, arms and legs akimbo like a cartoon character."
Sarah laughed and pushed her hand through her hair. "I'm imagining Goofy or Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. You've got that same sort of build."
Chuck cracked up and mimicked Shaggy with a, "Like, Scoooob."
There was another thump outside, and then a loud crack, and the house shook a bit. Chuck tensed, a chill going through him. "Did something just fall onto the house? Like a tree? Is there a tree on your roof?"
"Well, if it is, the roof held," she said, shrugging. But he could see her pupils shiver a bit. She was nervous, too. "I'm going to get some candles ready in case they turn off the power, or it goes out. And I'm doing it while I can still see."
"Right, 'cause there's a hurricane. And, um, right. I'm going to actually finish putting clothes on."
"You don't have to, if you don't want to," she teased, looking at him over her shoulder.
"Haaaaa." He went over to grab a shirt, throwing it on over his torso as she grabbed some candles from a drawer, setting up a few and dropping a box of matches on top of the desk.
Another terrifying howl sounded outside, and then a cacophonous crash of thunder could be heard, followed by another, louder, crash that sounded more like something else falling to the ground in her yard.
"Okay, that was absolutely a tree. A tree just came down. Was that lightning or wind that took it down?" he asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck and unconsciously moving a bit closer to her.
"I don't know, but it's okay, Chuck. We're safe in here."
"No, I know. I know. Totally."
She stared at him for a few moments, twisting her lips to the side. And then she cleared her throat. "You know how you said you didn't want me to be a safety net?"
"Mhm." He shifted his weight nervously. It was getting loud and terrifying outside, the sounds amplified and more intense, more frequent.
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why are you resisting? I mean, what if I told you I don't mind that? Maybe you can be a little easier on yourself since there's a literal hurricane outside, Chuck."
How did he answer that?
"Well, it…" He cleared his throat. "I've only known you ten days and I'm just here on vacation. I don't like to use my own sister as a safety net and she's, you know, well, she's my sister."
"Is this you being macho again?"
"No, it's me not wanting to be super serious and intense and…overstep with you."
He shut his eyes tight and pressed his lips together, putting his hands on his hips.
"Oh." She paused. He opened his eyes but kept his gaze directed down at his feet. "Well, you're…not overstepping. Can I just say that?" He nodded, peeking up at her. "I don't feel like you're being particularly intense, either. I mean, I like you, Chuck. I like being around you."
There was another unnerving gust of wind that shook the house a bit, making it crack and creak. Chuck squirmed uncomfortably, swallowing hard. "I just don't want to… freak you out. By coming to you for every little thing, depending on you for everything while I'm here." He shifted his weight to his other foot. "It's not because I'm macho and I'm a man and you're a woman, blah blah blah. It's because I like you a lot and I don't want that to be why I keep running to you when I'm afraid of something. Like a storm, or…or the ocean. You were my freaking lifeline during that dive. I would've probably passed out from terror if you weren't holding my hand, and I don't want that to keep being…a thing. Because it's not fair to you or to either of us 'cause, I mean, I don't…live here. And this just got really deep, didn't it? I'm sorry. Ignore all of that. I don't want things to be awkward when we're trapped in here together."
He felt miserable suddenly and he wished he'd just shut his mouth. Instead, he made a beeline for her bed and slumped onto it, landing face first and not moving.
"Heeey," she giggled, and he heard her approach, felt her weight on the bed next to him. "That was kind of intense, maybe. But I'm kind of getting used to your…intensity." Chuck pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at her with a droll look, earning another giggle. "It's not a bad thing. It's just different. And maybe I like different." There was a loud slam against the wall behind her bed and they both jumped. "I don't like that, though."
"Uh, me neither. Not at all."
"Listen…Chuck…" Her hand landed on his shoulder and she squeezed. She looked almost unsure, then, tentative. "I've sort of been on my own for a really long time and people don't tend to…uh…depend on me for anything, or really…care, either way. I mean, my jobs and work aside, obviously. I mean on a, um, personal level. Does that make sense?"
"It does." He watched her closely.
"I guess it's nice." She shrugged. "I guess that's what I'm saying."
"So…I didn't completely blow it and make this awkward by being too honest and intense…"
She giggled. "No, you didn't. But you're also thinking too much, Chuck. Way too much. You're tiptoeing, not wanting to overstep, and I'm perfectly at ease with this. It's fun. I'm having fun." Almost as if Mother Nature was taunting them, something else slammed into the house and there was another loud rumble of thunder that seemed to last for well over ten seconds. "That's not as much fun," she chirped, pointing up. "But this—us—this is fun, Chuck."
"It is fun." He smiled slowly. "You're also kind of telling me to chill out, right?"
"In that you're so worried about doing and saying the wrong thing like I'm gonna kick you back out into that insane mess out there, yes."
He huffed and then chuckled. "Please don't do that."
"I'm not going to! That's the point!" she giggled. "I want you to be here with me."
Chuck tried his best not to be too hyped by that. And then he realized he was doing exactly the opposite of what she wanted him to do. So instead of not being too hyped, he let his freak flag fly, so to speak. And he pushed himself up just enough to press his lips to hers.
She squeaked quietly in surprise, but kissed him back, smiling against his lips, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him in closer. When they broke for a moment to breathe, Chuck grinned cheekily and dove at her, tackling her to the mattress and making her laugh as he crawled on top of her and began to kiss her neck, wrapping her up in his arms.
"This is a lot better," he said, his voice muffled against her skin, "than being by myself in a hotel suite."
"Uh…agreed," she panted, squirming under his touch.
He tried to lose himself in her, kissing up her neck, over her jaw, pressing his lips to hers again. She opened her mouth and invited him in, her tongue against his, distracting him from the incredible roar of the hurricane outside. But then the lights flickered, and finally went out altogether.
Chuck froze against her, feeling her fingers dig into his back, and then she slid her arms around his shoulders and she hugged him close.
"There they go," she breathed against his lips, pulling back from the kiss.
"Did the city turn 'em off? Or did they go out?"
"Let's hope the former."
Chuck dropped his head on her shoulder and let a long breath out. Somehow the hurricane sounded so much scarier outside when they were in the dark. He shivered in her arms and she slipped a hand into his hair, her fingers stroking through his locks comfortingly.
It was such a seemingly small gesture, and yet it felt so intimate, so important. He decided not to get carried away with it, and just enjoy without overthinking. He let her comfort him and melted into her embrace.
"Hey, we're safe in here," she said. "It just sounds really bad. Especially in the dark."
"Okay," he murmured. "It is somehow creepier in the dark."
"Everything is creepier in the dark."
"Except for sex."
She chuckled and tugged on his curls. "Cheeky." Then she shifted. "Not that I want to go anywhere or even really move, but I think I should light some candles, at least. Just so we can see."
It really was pitch black. And he oh so gingerly peeled himself away from her, rolling onto his back. "I'll help you. If I can find my cellphone we can use the flashlight."
He carefully swung his legs over as he felt her shifting on the bed, but as he eased himself up, literally unable to see anything in the room, keeping his hands on the bed so that he could feel his way around it and not hurt himself, there was a quiet scratching sound and he watched as a match lit her face.
"How did you get over there so fast?"
She giggled. "I'm pretty aware of where things are in my bedroom," she said. "And I do all right in the dark."
"Are you part elf?"
"Um…no?"
"Sorry, it's…Never mind. Nothing."
She lit the candles and he was able to make his way to her side, helping her out with her task, and then he watched as she carried a few over to the nightstands, putting two on each side of the bed. "Is that a nerd reference I'm missing?"
"A really nerdy one."
"What, like…Dungeons & Dragons or something?"
"Y-Yes, actually." He blinked. "How'd you know that?"
"I guessed the nerdiest thing I could think of." She laughed at his flat look, then climbed back onto the bed, plopping herself against her pillows. He found himself just staring at her, taking her in. Something about candlelight just did things to her face, her eyes. She already drew him in just by existing, but in this atmosphere, her beauty made him feel a little crazy.
"What?" she asked, tilting her head, her eyes sparkling in amusement.
"You're so stunningly beautiful, it's incredible."
Sarah pushed herself to sit up, lifting an eyebrow. He didn't think she'd expected him to say that. "Thank you," she said quietly, so quiet he barely heard it with the screaming wind outside of their little sanctuary. And then she nibbled on her lip. "So no power."
"No power." He crawled onto the bed and stopped in front of her, flipping his legs around in front of him and bouncing a bit, a grin on his face to make her giggle. "You ever go through power outages when you were—" There was a loud slam somewhere out there, the sound of metal grinding against metal, thunder roaring. He tried to continue without getting too freaked out by it. "Ahem, when you were a kid?"
She gave him a closed-mouth smile and shrugged. "I, um, I don't remember."
"No?" She shook her head, looking almost shy suddenly. "Aw, man. Some of the best times with my family were when the power went out. The Santa Ana winds would screw up a power line or something, we'd lose power, and we'd have to find a way to pass the time."
"What'd you do?"
"Uh, cards sometimes. We'd tell ghost stories. My mom was the best at that. She had the gnarliest stories, oh my God. Like, about murders in cornfields and shit. It was insane."
She widened her eyes. "Your mom?"
"Yeah! Like, I had nightmares. I never told her about those nightmares, though, because I didn't want her to not tell the stories ever again."
Sarah laughed. "That's really cute."
Chuck shrugged and chuckled. "But then we'd also read things to one another. Ellie always picked Little Women which just…uuuuugggh." She giggled as he plopped over and snored. Then he sat up and chuckled. "She still gets pissed at me for refusing to read that book."
"You have somethin' against books about women?"
"Nah, not at all. I don't read a lot of…literature. Jules Verne, yes. But stuff like Dickens and…I dunno, who else? Austen? Tolstoy? I just don't think I have the patience." She nodded. "I mean, I'd do comics during power outages. Or I'd read from Princess of Mars by Burroughs."
"Sci-fi?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Then she chewed on her lip a bit and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Actually, I do remember…it wasn't a power outage, really, but um…my dad and I were in a hotel once, on the road. He turned out the lights in the room, drew the blinds shut, and got the flashlight from the car trunk. He set it up and did faces and shapes and stuff with his hands." She giggled as he beamed at her, watching the happiness in her features as she thought back to that time. "He was really good at it."
"That sounds awesome."
"It was pretty great."
He thought he might ask about her dad. But there was a look on her face that made him feel like he shouldn't. So instead, he looked around. "You got a flashlight around here? I'm just kidding, I can't do shapes with my hands."
They laughed together and she leaned in then, kissing him. She reached up and slung her arms around his shoulders, letting her weight fall against him. He caught her and hummed into her kiss, pulling back, not really seeing the way she was looking at him, the flash in her eyes as thunder crashed outside again.
"I've got an idea," he panted.
"Hmmm. Me, too."
Chuck pecked her on the lips and then pulled away, scooting clumsily over to the end of the bed and scrambling to his feet. "Wait here."
"I don't know where I'm gonna go," he heard her murmur as he ran out of her bedroom.
But he realized halfway down the hallway that he couldn't see, so he ran back in. "I can't see!" he said excitedly, making her laugh as he ran over to grab a candle and took it with him this time. It took him a bit to find her bookcase, and then he looked through her books for a minute, scanning the titles. He hummed, trying to drown out how much worse the storm sounded in this room, with the patio doors and the multiple windows. Even boarding them up with the plywood didn't help with the terrible sound.
So he grabbed the book and rushed back into the hallway where the storm outside was more muffled. Maybe, he thought, they might have a better time of it here, instead of in the bedroom. It'd be less comfortable, but also less loud. They might pile some pillows up and make a fort, like he and Morgan did when they had sleepovers as kids.
He'd mention it to Sarah later, he thought, and instead he walked back into her bedroom holding the book up so that she could see it. He wagged it back and forth and beamed at her. "Heeeeeey, it's Shaaaakespeeeare," he sang.
She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Shakespeare?"
"Yeah! Listen, I never understood the appeal of the dude's prose, so maybe a big Shakespeare nerd like you, Scuba Sarah, can help me see the error of my ways."
He shrugged and came back to the bed, sticking the large volume under his arm, crawling up to her and offering the book. "I grabbed the comedies volume instead of the tragedies, because I feel like I'm not up for tragedy during a hurricane. Call me crazy."
Sarah just peered up at him for a moment, not laughing the way he thought she might. But her eyes were soft in the candlelight. Very soft. And she still hadn't taken the book from him. Had he done something wrong, he wondered?
"You want to…talk about…Shakespeare?" she asked.
He tilted his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? You love him so much, I sort of figure I maybe missed somethin'. You can take me through one of your faves. We've got all night apparently, so maybe you can explain to me what the fuck the crazy old words mean, because I don't have a damn clue. Like, I know what the individual words mean, but he puts them together in a weird way and I want to just be like 'SPIT IT OUT, BILL'…So if you could help me get past that, that'd be cool."
As he pushed the book at her again, he was surprised by the way she took a deep breath and grabbed the book, reaching to the side and dropping it to the mattress, out of the way.
"No?" he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.
"Mm mm." Sarah grabbed him by his T-shirt and yanked him on top of her, lying back against the pillows and wrapping her legs around his hips. His momentum slammed his mouth against hers and she sighed happily, hugging him close. She pulled back just a little as he stared down at her, admittedly a bit dazed by this turn of events. "You are so clueless it's almost adorable, but mostly it's frustrating."
"Cluele—?" He stopped when it occurred to him exactly what she'd been hinting at a few minutes earlier, the way she'd kissed him and touched him. He groaned at himself miserably, pressing their foreheads together as she giggled from deep in her chest. "Right. Yep. I'm, um, pretty stupid."
"No, you're not," she corrected, obviously tickled. "You're so genuinely sweet and it's just about the biggest turn on there is," she breathed. And she went for his shirt, pulling it off of him and dropping it over the book.
The storm raged on outside, the house quivering with the thunder and the wind, the rain coming down so hard it sounded like a billion golfballs slamming into the roof and walls surrounding them. Chuck let the furious hurricane outside, the adrenaline and elevated heart rate drive him on, and for a while, it was like they'd let the storm inside with them, their voices drowning out the pounding rain and howling wind.
}o{
Chuck reached over to grab the book, turning it to the table of contents and running his finger down the list of plays. "Which one is the one you talked about with the slut-shaming?"
Sarah was splayed out, a look of supreme satisfaction on her face as she lazily turned her head towards him. "It's Shakespeare. They all have slut-shaming somewhere in there."
He chuckled and shook his head. "Ohhh, the sixteenth century."
"It's the twenty-first century now, buddy boy, and there's still a lot of slut-shaming out there." She rolled her eyes and took the book back.
"Hey, not from me. Boink who you want. That's my motto."
That made her laugh. "Please, please, do not let that be your motto."
With another chuckle, he leaned into her side and shifted his legs under the covers so that they were tangled with hers. He felt how cold her feet still were and blanketed them with his own. "It isn't. But I don't care if you slept with the human form of a surfing mountain goat, or who else you—" He broke off laughing as she gasped and shoved him away from her, cracking up.
"As much as I hate to admit it, that's an accurate description of him."
"I know it is."
"But I wouldn't be too quick to make fun, Chuck, considering how jealous you were of him earlier today. Jealous enough that you went full macho manly man and tried to spend your first ever hurricane totally alone in spite of being super nervous about it—understandably nervous."
He grumbled, then rolled his eyes. "Yeeeeah, I know. I was ridiculous. At the end of the day, I'm still a man. As hard as I try to rise above it."
"Men are dumb," she giggled.
"It's true. But you like us."
"I like you." She lifted the book from her lap and shook it. "And this guy." There was a particularly frightening gust of wind that rattled the plywood still covering Sarah's windows and she dropped her hand on his thigh over the covers, squeezing reassuringly. She must've felt him freeze. But it comforted him that he'd felt her freeze as well. He wasn't alone in feeling nervous and that somehow made him feel better. "It's Much Ado About Nothing," she said then, tapping the title on the table of contents. "That's the one with the really terrible subplot of slut-shaming. Claudio is gross. Hero is depressing. But you'd love Benedick and Beatrice."
"Is Claudio the slut-shamer?"
"Yeah. He's set to marry Hero, the woman he loves, but the quote illegitimate unquote brother of Don Pedro—his name is Don Jon—ruins the wedding when he arranges for Claudio to see who he thinks is Hero having an amorous liaison with another man. It's actually her chambermaid. But Claudio believes it, as does Hero's father, who basically says he wishes she'd die."
Chuck made an incensed face. "What?! That sounds horrible."
"It is. But…the writing, the dialogue…oh my God."
"Good?" he asked.
"Amazing. Wait…" She grabbed the book and flipped into the middle of it. There was a look on her face, as she scanned the pages, turning them, that sent an unending warmth through Chuck Bartowski. It wasn't a crazed look, per se, though her blue eyes were slightly manic. But she was filled with excitement. And it was about Shakespeare, which he thought was incredibly adorable and nerdy in its own way. Just an hour earlier, she was the sexiest woman on the planet, turning his world on its head. And now here she was letting out an excited, "Ha! Found it!" and tapping the book with her finger as she set it down on both of their laps.
He was so enamored, he could hardly stand it.
"Read that," she said, looking up at him and pointing. He furrowed his brown and looked down at the page, silently reading what she pointed to. "No, out loud. Read Benedick."
"I-I can't—These words make little to no sense to me." He paused. "Wait, you want me to read Shakespeare out loud?"
"Yes," she giggled. "I'm Beatrice. Come on, it'll be fun. I mean, where else do ya gotta be?"
He gazed at her softly. "Nowhere," was his quiet reply.
She gave him a soft smile and shrugged one shoulder. "Well, then?"
Chuck sighed and pressed his lips together. "All right, Lady Beatrice, you asked for it."
They spent over an hour skipping through the play, reading parts she found important, and he found himself cackling at how legitimately funny Beatrice and Benedick were. They were the smartest people in the play, the most well-adjusted at least, but when they were together it was like they almost became completely stupid. He figured maybe love did that to some people. He'd needed a few things explained to him, of course, and while she teased him a little, it was good-natured and she was mostly patient, warm, even eager to teach. She was so brainy, and he wasn't surprised at all. Her mind crackled like a storm. Sitting so close to her while they went through Midsummer Night's Dream made it so he could almost feel the electricity of it. Touching his skin, making the hair on his arms stand up.
Most of all, he thought to himself that learning about literature in freaking school had never been this enjoyable. Obviously. But it wasn't just that it was her, it was that the content was actually…pretty great when you started to understand it and didn't have to write a stupid essay on it afterwards.
Sarah finally reached over and shut the book then, causing Chuck to look up at her. "Hey…I was reading the end of the play."
"They all get married," she said.
"Spoilerrrrr…"
"It's a Shakespeare comedy, Curls. That's how they usually end—with everyone marrying the person they're supposed to marry."
"And the tragedies end with everyone dying."
"Exactly," she chuckled. "But…" She leaned in and kissed him, her fingers in his hair again. Neither of them had seen fit to dress again after the impromptu sex, Chuck instead reaching over Sarah to grab the Shakespeare book and demand she tell him more about his plays, make him fall in love as well.
As Sarah now slid her legs over his and maneuvered herself so that she was sitting in his lap, he could feel everything, her muscles covered with soft skin…her lower half pressed into his. He grumbled happily and she squirmed a bit, rounding his shoulders with her arms. "I'm not in the mood for reading Shakespeare right now."
"Oh?" He pecked her lips. "You were a little while ago."
"Eh." She bounced one shoulder cutely, wrinkling her nose. "That was just a distraction while we recuperated from earlier activities."
"I see." He bit his lip, slipping his hands to her hips and squeezing, giving her a bit of a tug so that her full weight was in his lap. She giggled, her eyelids fluttering. "And we're properly recuperated?"
"I know I am."
"Are you suggesting we do something again that's gonna need more recuperating from?" He made a face. "Did that even make sense?"
Sarah beamed at him and then kissed him hard. She didn't have to answer. Neither of them had to say anything at all. Neither paid any mind to the loud thump of the book being accidentally kicked over the edge of the bed and landing on the floor.
Chuck's teasing, "Strike up, pipers!" had Sarah in stitches, the sound of her laughter drowning out the sounds of the storm outside, even as he graced her bare skin with his lips, explored her body with his hands. They got lost in each other, and the laughter turned to whimpering, gasping…and the night stretched into very early morning.
A/N: Always loved the idea of Chuck and Sarah as Benedick and Beatrice. Thought I'd sneak that in. Please leave a review. Thanks. :)
-SC