The Nerd Versus the P.I. Family
By Steampunk . Chuckster
A/N: Hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving with no following illnesses from large gatherings. We continue the story where it left off.
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.
"Moooommmmmyyyyyyyy."
She jolted awake.
Her left arm was numb. And so was her left butt cheek. She groaned quietly, realizing her cheek on her face was pushed against something a little bonier than a pillow. And a weird voice that sounded like her son's reminded her that pillows didn't have bones at all, and if they did that'd be seriously creepy.
Blinking in confusion, she looked down and realized that was a shoulder, not a pillow…and it was attached to a neck. A human neck.
Oh, of course.
Chuck's human neck.
And his human arm was still wrapped tight around her waist, even as he grumbled, half-sleeping still, but waking up.
"Moooommmyyyyy!"
It wasn't an urgent cry. She'd been his mother long enough to know what Max's urgent cry sounded like. He wasn't upset or scared. He'd woken up and patiently waited in his bed for who even knew how long, perhaps playing with his stuffed animals. And then he'd grown tired of being patient and letting his mom do whatever it was she was doing, which just so happened to be sleeping. So he called out for her to let her know he was awake. And bored.
She could see him in her mind's eye, standing in his bed, pulling on the railing, his head tilted back, calling out for her. Or rather…belting out for her.
"Saaaaaaaawaaaaaah."
Sarah broke into a light laugh, shaking her head. That freaking kid.
"Did he just… Was that your name?" Chuck asked in a delicious, low crackling voice against her hair.
"Yep. That's a thing now, I guess." She groaned, squeezing his hip with her right hand, her arm still draped over his midsection, and she used her grip to start to try to extract herself from Chuck's embrace. She leaned back from him enough that she could look into his face. He was awake now, a small smile on his lips. And he looked so nice and rumpled. "So I guess we fell asleep, huh?" she asked, trying to fight off a blush.
"Guess so."
"Saaaaaawaaaaaaah Mooommmmyyyyyyyy!" Max yelled even louder.
Chuck laughed, grinning tiredly up at her.
"I'm, uh, gonna go shut that kid up now." She bit her lip. "Stay for breakfast?"
He blinked his brown eyes once, and his grin widened. "Uh, yeah. Okay. If you're sure." She nodded. "It just…" He paused.
"What?"
"SAAWAAAAAAH!"
"Max!" she yelled back, making Chuck jump. She sent him an apologetic look. "I'll be in there in a second! Please be patient!"
"NO BE PASSENT!" her little troublemaker yelled back and Chuck covered his mouth to try to smother his laugh. She rolled her eyes at him for it.
And she ignored Max. "What? It's just what?" she asked Chuck again.
"What's he gonna think if I'm still here when he comes out?"
Oh.
She smiled, melting against him. "You're sweet for thinking of it. But he's not even three yet. His brain puts a lot together and he listens to and absorbs things you don't necessarily want him t—"
"SAAAAAWAAAAAAAAH!"
She gestured down the hallway. "As you can tell." The Nerd Herd specialist chuckled. "But when he sees you, he's not going to think much of it. Trust me." He hadn't thought much of the two men—she was pretty sure it'd only been two—who'd been here when he woke up before. He was just quiet and ate his food, barely even noticing them. Granted, he'd been a lot less vocal then, and the other time, he was an actual infant, a few months old at the most. It had been a while since a man had been in her apartment in the morning.
And this time it had only come about because they'd fallen asleep on her couch while watching television. She glanced at the TV now and saw that it was off… Who'd done that? Had he done it and then snuggled back up against her to fall asleep? That took the accidental element of this away, at least on his end. It made something in her chest tingle.
"Okay," he said, nodding. "I can start breakfast if you want."
"I got it," she said, shaking her head, pressing a hand to his chest. She pushed off of him and climbed to her feet next to the couch, rising to her full height, stretching, wincing. She hadn't had to fall asleep in that weird of a position since Max was a baby and she had to fall asleep sitting propped up in bed or on the couch to keep him asleep. So many aches and pains. So so many. She'd gotten used to going to work at the LAPD and sprinting around the streets of LA in spite of said aches and pains.
And now he was older and slept through the nights and she no longer had to sprint around the streets of LA. That was how it went, she supposed.
"Stay here and make yourself at home."
"I kinda already did. I mean, I slept here."
She grinned. "Yeah, ya did. Kinda rude, nerd." She winked to let him know she was teasing and he pursed his lips, wrinkling his nose adorably.
She moved away then, pushing her fingers through his curls as she walked around the couch. It wasn't until she got into the hallway, out of Chuck's sight, that she stopped, pressing her back against the wall, giving herself a moment.
Sarah shut her eyes and tilted her head back, taking a deep breath. She felt a smile creep over her lips and she took another deep breath. He'd stayed all night, and they'd fallen asleep all wrapped up together. And sure, it was just on her couch, but it still felt…progressive.
Shaking her arm out, finally feeling it start to come back to life after being pinned between Chuck's side and her body, she pulled herself together as best she could and pushed into her son's bedroom.
"SAAAA—Oh. Hiyeeee ah'buddyyyy!"
Max stopped midway through another belted refrain of her name when he saw her enter his room, his blue nightlight cast over his mother's figure, and he waved, his little hand thrusted through the bars of his bed's railing.
"Hi, everybody," she chirped back, giggling at how insanely sweet this child was. "Is that gonna be a thing now, Max? Can you call me Mommy and not by my name, please?"
"You ca' me Ma'k."
"I do. Yes. But you're my son. It's different. I'm your Mommy."
"Don't yike Mommy name?" he asked, a concerned, tired wrinkle to his brow as she picked him up with a grunt and cradled him on her hip to hug him tight.
"I like my name, sure. But I'd like you to call me Mommy still."
"Mo'ning." He hugged her around her neck, his Lovey still clutched in his clammy fist.
"Good morning, my darling." She squeezed him and turned her face to kiss his hair. "You slept good. I'm proud of you."
"Uh huh!"
It was fifteen minutes to eight which wasn't half bad. Though maybe Chuck would disagree. She wasn't sure if he was a morning guy, she realized. Especially after such a late night. Oops.
"I have a surprise for you, Max."
"A s'pise?" He gasped and pulled back, excited.
"Mhm!" She leaned down to put him on his feet and he dashed out of his room before she could say anything else. Spry on his feet, completely unlike his mother when she'd first woken up. "Hopefully a good surprise," she mumbled under her breath. Especially since there was no way she could prepare either of them for what might be an awkward morning meeting, Max had jetted out of his room so quick and she'd never catch up now.
Sighing, she moved over to his window and opened up his blinds, letting the early morning sun flood in, then she moved to turn off his nightlight.
By the time she wandered back down the hallway, she found Chuck in the kitchen, kneeling down in front of her son, who was back to his shy mood again apparently.
"Surpriiiiise," she drawled, clapping her hands together. "Chuck is here, Max."
He nodded quietly and pushed Lovey's softness to his chin. "Hiyee, ah'buddy," he said a lot quieter this time.
Chuck giggled and threw his hands up with an enthusiastic, "Hi, everybody!" But he'd thrown his hands up a little too vigorously perhaps, because he lost his balance and plopped onto his ass with a grunt, his eyes going wide. "Oops."
Max broke into a fit of laughter.
Sarah giggled, looking around the kitchen. She spotted one of her mid-sized metal bowls with raw eggs half scrambled inside and she turned to give Chuck a look. "I told you I've got breakfast. You're the guest."
"GESS! GESS! GESS GESS GESS!" Max chanted, hopping. "You gess!" He poked his finger at Chuck. Then he spun to look up at her. "Mommy, eat? We eat?"
"Yes, we're going to have breakfast."
Max pointed to Chuck then. "Eat egg?"
"I'm making scrambled eggs, yep," Chuck said, pushing back up to his feet.
"Scamba?" He swung Lovey back and forth at his side. "Bay?"
Sarah winced. "Sorry, pal. We can scramble the eggs but we don't have any bacon."
Her son turned to look at her, his blue eyes big and wet, his bottom lip quivering. "No bay?"
She recognized the look in Chuck's face as he stood to his full height and opened his mouth so she closed the distance quickly and sidled up against him.
"I can always go to the sto—" Sarah stopped it quick, pressing her finger over his lips. He widened his eyes at her in question and she gave him a little head shake, smiling at him. Then she squeezed his arm, hoping he didn't feel admonished because she hadn't meant it as admonishment.
She knelt down in front of Max and pushed her hand through his hair soothingly. "I want ham anyway. I think ham goes better with eggs, don't you think? Just today. Ham is better. We have ham in the fridge, too, which makes it even better. What do you think?"
Max thought for a moment, tilting his head back. Then he glanced up at Chuck for a second and lowered his gaze back to his mom. "Kay! We eat ham!"
"We eat ham!" Chuck parroted, clapping his hands together. "Ham sounds delicious."
"It dish'us!" Max tried, hopping and squealing in excitement. "Dish'us! Dish'us!"
Sarah shrugged as Chuck sent her a look, raising his eyebrows. "Power of persuasion," she mumbled, stepping in close and rubbing his shoulder. "It works most of the time. And I thought I'd save you a trip to the store."
"You're smart, that's what you are," he said quietly, smirking down at her as he began to whip the eggs in the bowl again.
"I'm a parent who's found ways not to bend at everything my kid wants, and I did it through lots of trial and error. You don't have to give him every single thing he wants at that moment, even—no especially—when he tries the tantrum thing." She reached across him to break off a grape from the bunch on the counter and popped it between her lips. "Because you'll be driving all over town for every little thing, and really, what he actually wants?" She shrugged again. "It isn't bacon, as much as it's validation."
"Ham is very valid."
"It's so valid."
They chuckled together and she moved up to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, squeezing his shoulder, before leaving his side to take Max's hand. "Do you want to help me get the ham?"
"Yeah! I he'p!" And he scurried to the fridge door, grabbing the handle and tugging. He grunted, tugging hard, then he yanked, frustration in his face. Sarah quietly reached over his head and popped it open. Whether he saw her do it or not, he made a celebratory sound and stepped in closer like he was about to climb right into the fridge. "Get da ham. Ham ham ham. Hammmmmmmm."
Sarah guided him to the drawer and let him open it, before he reached in and got it out, walking it up to the counter and moving on his tiptoes to reach as high as he could and slip it up there. He clapped excitedly when he did it and her heart swelled.
"Good work, Max!"
She shut the fridge door and lifted him to sit on the counter by the sink, taking Lovey from him and walking it over to set it where it wouldn't get wet or, worse, catch fire. "You have to wash your hands before you handle the food, remember?"
"Yeah. C'ean."
"Exactly. We need clean hands."
She helped him lean over and scrub, singing "wash wash wash, wash those hands" quietly near Max's ear. She felt Chuck's eyes on her back the whole time, even when she grabbed the towel to quickly dry her hands before she helped Max do the same. "There. Perfect. Now we go back over to the ham." She grunted as she grabbed him under his armpits and swung him over to the other part of the counter, nudging Chuck with her shoulder purposely as she went, smiling at him, before she set Max down and took the slices of ham out of their package, letting Max tear pieces off with her and tossing them onto the plate.
Chuck appeared at her elbow then, the bowl of bubble-covered, expertly whisked eggs clutched in one of his hands. "What are you doing ripping up the ham? Aren't we cooking it?"
"Mhm. We're putting it in the pan and then pouring the egg on it. It's a scramble."
"Oh okay that's fancy. My brain can't get that fancy this early in the morning. Apparently."
Sarah giggled at him as Max hummed a made up song and tore messily at the ham. His pieces weren't quite as meticulous as hers but it didn't matter. So she turned to give Chuck an apologetic look. "Sorry about how early you had to wake up. Especially considering how late we stayed up. It's a miracle if this one sleeps past eight." She nudged Max gently with her elbow and he giggled. "This one over here slept really good this morning."
"Yeah, I was GOOD!"
Chuck grinned, shrugging and pushing his hand through the air. "Oh, I'm okay. I get up around this time when I've gotta go into the Buy More anyway."
"BuyMa!"
"Petition to change the Buy More to the BuyMa," Chuck said with a snort. "I like that better. Good work, Max."
"T'anks!" He cleaned his fingers on his shirt, the ham finished.
Smirking, Sarah picked up the plate and eyed Chuck as she realized what he'd said a moment earlier. "Do you have to go in today?"
"BuyMa!"
Chuck cleared his throat around Max's chanting. "No, I don't think I'm going in today."
"You don't think?" She raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Max. "Okay, into the pan this goes, right?"
"In it gooooooo."
"Make sure he stays on that counter, please," she breathed to Chuck with a grateful look as he stepped in to put a hand up in case Max tried to jump down. It wouldn't be the first time he tried it.
"Oh, um, I was thinking I'd play hooky today."
"Wat dis?"
Sarah gave Chuck an amused look over her shoulder as she poured the ham into the pan he was already heating on the stove like a pro, the perfect dab of oil inside of it. This time, she'd let Chuck handle the explanation on his own. It wasn't the nicest thing to do, but she wanted to hear his answer.
"Uhhhh." Chuck cleared his throat. "Well…? Well, it's… I'm not condoning this, because my job is different from other jobs in that I get to sort of decide when… I'm just confusing you worse, huh? I can see it in your face. Sorry."
"S'okay," Max chirped.
"Thanks." The older of the two chuckled, seeming charmed. She wanted to hug this friggin' kid so hard. He was putting on an impressive show. The cuter he was, the more Chuck would want to keep coming around. And sure, there were other problems there, things she still needed to clear up in her own head, and in her chest.
But she'd tackle that when she got to it.
"Playing hooky means skipping something you're supposed to go to. Technically, I should go to my work today and help people fix their computers, but I don't want to. So I'm not going to. But that's not something you should do. I can do it because I don't have a boss, really."
"No boss?"
"No boss," Chuck said.
"I hab no boss."
Chuck looked up at Sarah with the most hilarious face she'd seen in a while and she nearly burst into laughter. "He's right," she said in a droll voice. "If anything this little runt is my boss."
Chuck laughed, shaking his head. "I've heard they do that."
"Mommy? Dwink?"
"See?" she giggled. "Right on cue. What do you want to drink, bud?"
"Uuuuuuhhhhhhhh… I t'inking."
"Okay, you think and you let me know." She saw Chuck moving to bring the egg over then and she held up a hand with a brusque, "Ah ah! Give it. I'm doing the rest of this. You're a guest here."
"GESS! Gess gess gessgessgessgess," Max chimed in. Sarah pointed at him and raised her eyebrows wordlessly.
Chuck held his hands up. "Okay, fine. Fine, I'm a guest. I've been put in my place."
Max seemed confused. "Wat p'ace?"
Sarah bit her lip and turned back to the pan, egg in hand, pouring it in and starting to scramble it. Max had officially hit his stage that her mom had warned her about, the same stage she'd apparently gone through at about the same age. The Question Everything stage. God, it was just starting. He was going to ask about every single thing, and poor Chuck wasn't used to being around a kid all that much, she assumed, which meant he'd use phrases that went over Max's head and Max would do his cute little 'wat dis' thing he did.
"Um."
Sarah snorted and decided to help him this time, speaking over her shoulder as she continued to cook the eggs. "Chuck means that he forgot that he was the guest here and the two of us reminded him that he's a guest." Then she decided to add, "He doesn't live here, and we're welcoming him into our home, so we're the hosts. And he's the guest. That's what that means. Make sense?"
"Uh huh." She didn't know if it actually made sense to him or not. But he always said 'uh huh' anyway. It was good enough for now.
"Mommy, dwink."
"Did you decided what you want?"
"Uuummm…j'oooo?"
"Juice? Okay, lemme turn down the burner. Just a second." But as she moved to do that, Chuck interrupted with a hand on her shoulder.
"Ah ah!" he snapped in an almost perfect rendition of what she'd just done to him. She gave him an affronted look and he grinned with a wink. "I'll get the juice. You keep doing that. I might be a guest but I can still be helpful."
She smiled wordlessly and then angled herself so that she could watch him subtly as she kept at the eggs.
He went back to Max and paused before touching him. "Can I help you down off the counter?"
"Kay."
"Okay." Chuck gingerly took her son by his waist and hoisted him up into the air easily, making a weird robotic sound as he arched him up, and finally down onto the floor, making Max laugh. "Boom. Good landing, sir."
"T'anks!" Max giggled with a toothy grin. Then he ran to the fridge and pointed. "J'oos?" Sarah sent him a look and he turned shy. "P'ease. P'ease j'oos."
Chuck popped open the fridge and made a show of looking for it. "Hmmmm, I see milllllllk."
"Nooo," Max groaned.
"Creamer…? You don't want that, huh?"
"Noooooooo!" Her son was starting to laugh now, picking up on Chuck's antics.
"Coconut water! Mmmm! That what you want?"
"No, j'oos! P'ease!"
"Juice! Oh! A-ha!" He reached in and out came the apple juice. "This?"
"Yeah!" Max began to hop up and down, chanting, "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!"
When Chuck turned and met her gaze, she felt a little caught, having been staring at him through all of it, but she just played it off, gesturing to the cupboard where she kept Max's no-spill cups.
He grabbed one, but then he seemed to struggle with the top again and she giggled, reaching out for him to hand it to her. Embarrassed, he winced and did so.
"I'm old hat at these crazy things," she said, trying to ease his frustration. She popped off the lid and handed it back to him, before finishing up the eggs and turning off the burner.
"Give me time, I'll figure these out. I'm a very determined boy."
Sarah froze a little at that, her back to him as he started pouring the juice for Max with sound effects again. He seemed completely oblivious to the implications of what he'd just said. Give me time, he'd said. Give him time.
"Glub glub glub glub… and we put the lid back on."
"You have to push it down and turn it at the same time. You'll feel a little click," she said to help him out, trying to push past that little moment he apparently wasn't stuck on in the way she was. Give me time.
"Ah! A-ha! It clicked! Max, it clicked!"
"It c'ick!"
Giving off a happy giggle, Chuck handed the cup down to Max and bowed low. "Your juice, my liege."
Max seemed not to care that he didn't know what that was either, instead taking the gesture as it was and squeaking out a laugh, before he ran into the other room with his cup in hand.
Sarah moved to get plates and ignored the other presence in the kitchen for a few moments, paying attention instead to the work of divvying up most of the egg onto two plates and putting less on Max's smaller plastic plate with the suction on the bottom. He didn't really need the suction anymore like he did when he was little. He would eat, scooting his plate around the table and sometimes off the table when he was much younger. Like an eager puppy lapping at their dog dish and scooting it all over the floor.
But he was much more controlled and understood that was bad manners now. And he even held his fork, not eating with his fingers as much as he used to.
She felt Chuck step up to the stove next to her, his arm brushing hers. "Looks amazing."
"Thanks," she said. "You did a lot of it. I only finished it off."
He seemed to fidget then, giving off a nervous energy, and she braced herself...for what, she had no idea. "Hey, um… Thank you. I mean, for letting me crash breakfast." He cleared his throat as she gave him a furrowed brow. As if she would kick him out of here without getting him fed. She was out of her depth, sure, but she knew how to be a proper hostess. "I don't know if—Well, maybe, um, last night. I don't know if I should've woken you up so you could go to bed and, um, I could get out of here. I didn't mean to be—I don't know if it's okay that I stayed and fell asleep too. On your couch with you." He lowered his voice even more as Max made loud humming sounds from the other room. "Was it too much? Was there a line crossed? Because if so, I—"
She set everything down and turned to face him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Hold on. Let me just put your worry to rest right now. You didn't cross any lines. I don't do things I'm uncomfortable with, Chuck. That's…something people who spend enough time around me discover eventually. I wouldn't have fallen asleep on the couch with you if I wasn't comfortable with it." And because she still had that warm feeling in her chest from the way Max had actively chosen to take up space in Chuck's lap last night, she smiled at him, and let the warmth show in her face. "I'm glad you're here this morning."
Her phone buzzed where she'd left it on the table all night and she grimaced, aware that it was probably Casey needing her to come in. Although, if he had new evidence, she wouldn't be all that bummed about going in.
She frowned as she saw PRIVATE CALLER on the screen. "Sorry," she muttered to Chuck, and he waved it off with a shake of his head. She swiped to answer and brought her cell to her ear. "This is Sarah Walker, private investigator." She saw Chuck make a face in her peripheral and she bit her lip to stem her amusement. Dork.
"Oh, good. You're awake."
Her spine straightened as she recognized the warbled voice in her ear. "You."
She held up a hand as Chuck took a step closer. He must've seen the immediate change in her body language, her face hardening. Chuck halted and waited.
"Just a second," she breathed at her very own 'Deep Throat'. She lowered the phone and looked at Chuck. "It's him again. Can you keep an eye on Max? Please?"
He frowned darkly. "I've got him."
"Thanks." She put the phone back to her ear and swept down the hallway to her bedroom, snagging her notebook and pen along the way. She did her best to ignore her son calling out for her as she passed him, but she sent him an apologetic look and held up a finger for him to wait. Chuck swept in and said something to Max but she didn't hear it as she said, "Okay. You've got my ear."
"Good. I don't have all day."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Neither do I." She stepped into her bedroom and shut the door. She didn't need this person hearing Max and knowing she might be at home right now, home with her two year old, vulnerable. She didn't trust him.
"You aren't moving as fast on this as I need you to move."
"You didn't exactly give me much," Sarah argued. "Maps. That was it, right? You want me to look at the routes. Follow rivers? Follow roads?"
There was a frustrated sound on the other side of the line. "I thought I was dealing with the smart one of the bunch. Maybe I should've contacted the LAPD or the FBI. Maybe they're the real brains here."
Sarah grit her teeth, her pride taking quite a hit. "Look. We both know what's at stake here for you. You're in danger talking to law enforcement, and that includes the info you give me. But I'm the only one who doesn't have the tech to track you down when you call me like this. LAPD could find you in a second. So could the FBI. I can't. So I'm your only choice, here. If you wanna work with someone, it has to be me."
There was a pause. "Maybe you've got brains after all. But trust me when I say whatever tech they've got isn't going to find me. Doesn't matter though. I need you to listen carefully. You'll find more traffickers are coming in at the ports, and up from the border. Keep track of the criminals LAPD's picking up who are linked to trafficking, whether it's drugs or…people. Chances are they lead you to where you need to be. They'll help you see. Yevgeni. That's all I can say right now."
"Yevg—What the fuck is that? Can you stop with the riddles?"
"It isn't a riddle. God's sakes. It's a nickname."
And just like that there was a click, and he was gone. "Fuck you," Sarah snapped at her phone even though he wouldn't hear it. Back to square one with the Yevgeni shit. A nickname? For what? For whom?
She dialed Casey immediately and he answered with a gruff, "What."
"He called me again. The snitch. He said Yevgeni again, but the rivers and freeways thing? It's about trafficking. He said to watch the border and the ports, and to keep track of the traffickers you pick up, as if they're maybe all linked? I don't know. He said it will lead us to where we need to be."
"The fuck does that mean?"
"I don't know!"
"Are they all connected, then? That's the only conclusion I can come to. There's a massive trafficking ring and this guy who keeps calling knows who the ringleader is but won't fucking tell us." He growled in frustration.
"It sounds like he's close enough to it all that he knows a lot of shit we don't know."
"Yeah, but he gives us riddles instead of just telling us. Bastard."
Sarah shook her head. "There's a lot more to this than we know."
"Obviously," Casey grunted.
She rolled her eyes. "I mean that a trafficking ring feels…" Sighing, she pushed a hand through her hair. "Casey, there's something bigger going on than just trafficking."
"Trafficking is pretty big, Walker."
"I know. I know that. But it felt like that wasn't what he was talking about." She had a deep, deep sensation in her gut, the way she used to back when she was still a detective with the LAPD. And she'd learned early on in her career to listen to that gut feeling. "Like if we bust up this trafficking ring, it's going to lead us to something even bigger, something more sinister."
"More sinister than human trafficking?" Casey asked in a droll voice.
"Yeah, I know. That's pretty evil. But I'm talking massive conspiracies."
"Oh, here we go. The Illuminati do it, Walker? The lizard people living in the middle of the Earth?"
"Stop. You know that's not what I'm getting at, Captain. I'm talking about high-up folks being involved in this. A web that includes maybe…I don't know." She huffed. "Powerful moguls, or even politicians or something."
"Is the president trafficking in humans?"
"Will you stop it? I'm being serious."
He grunted and she knew that was the only apology she'd get from her one-time-superior. "A'right, so big picture, some senator or something, or someone in the current White House administration. That's crazy shit, Walker."
"Or some rich and powerful mogul. An oil man. Or someone in…I don't know, one of those insanely rich billionaire guys who jump in rockets and go to space because they can, leaving people starving and on the streets in the meantime."
"Seems more likely. Okay, we'll do as this potential informant says, we'll keep looking for connections between these arrests we're making. But for now, we're looking at this as a potential trafficking ring. Whatever else might be going on, if it's there, maybe busting up the ring will help us find it."
Sarah nodded even though she knew he couldn't see it. "Okay. And in the meantime, what do I do to help?"
"Keep to the shadows, Walker. I don't like that this guy knows how to contact you. Because if he knows you're involved in this case, whoever it is he's informing on could figure it out too. I don't think I need to tell you why that'd be a problem."
He didn't.
"Lay low for a bit, and maybe don't come into the station. We'll come to you. I'll send Rizzo or Etheridge in plain clothes."
"What?" She shook her head, frustrated. "Oh come on, Captain Casey. That's a little much, don't you think? I'm a P.I. and I'm contracted with the LAPD. It's not that crazy that I'd head into the station here and there."
"I'd like to see you make it to your son's third birthday, Sarah," he said seriously, and she frowned deeply. "I know it sounds like I'm treating you different from the way I'd treat any of my officers—"
"Plenty of your officers have families…wives, husbands, kids… You have a family, Casey."
"Yep. But none of 'em are getting cryptic calls from some fucker disguising his voice. That's a direct threat, calling your office, calling your cell. I'm taking this seriously. You need to take it seriously too."
"That's my son we're talking about, Captain, and with all due respect, I've got that part handled. I'm absolutely taking it seriously. I have a kid to raise and I intend to be in attendance when he graduates from college and goes out into the world on his own in twenty years. But blackballing me from the station—"
"I'm not blackballing you. I'm protecting you."
"I can protect myself!" She stopped, hearing the blatant silence on the other side of the line. She hadn't meant to snap like that at an LAPD captain, her old boss. That was a really good way to make sure they never worked with her again in the future. And she was sure she needed them more than they needed her. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm…on edge."
"S'okay," he finally said. "I get it. Be careful, Walker. Limit your interaction with the outside world…not a lot, just a bit. I'll make sure we put some financial padding on that contract of yours so you don't have to take any jobs for a bit. We want you focused on this. And if you get another phone call from this guy, call us immediately."
"Yeah. Got it." She sighed. "Keep me apprised of developments."
"Will do."
When she hung up, she felt tears stinging at the edges of her eyes. Pressing her lips tightly together, she tried not to let the frustration cause those tears to spill down her cheeks.
She'd left the force and started her own private investigative agency knowing things would change, that things might be different. She wouldn't have as much access to dossiers, files, and any other resources she would need. She would have to work harder, be cleverer. She'd need to get better at finding loopholes she could sneak through to get the job done for her clients.
But the way she was treated as much less capable of protecting herself now, like she was more at risk, more fragile, was making her feel nuts. She could protect herself, and she would protect her son, too. She was capable of doing her job and assessing which risks to take, and which to avoid so that she could come home to her son every night, in one piece.
There was a knock on the door then and she let out a rush of air, sitting on the edge of her bed and shaking herself. "Come in."
It wasn't until Chuck stepped into her bedroom, his face immediately creasing in concern, that she realized she hadn't been successful in keeping the tears off of her cheeks. She swiped at them quickly as he crossed the room to her.
"What is it? What happened? Are you okay? What'd they say? Did they threaten you?"
She shook her head, reaching up to put a reassuring hand on his wrist as he came near enough. "No, this isn't…about that." She sniffled and wiped at her face with her free hand again. "I mean, it's a lot of things probably. I'm really exhausted with this Deep Throat asshole not giving me anything to go off of. Just little hints and random fucking words I don't even know what they mean. And I feel like I've got this…" She growled in frustration. "Like I've got this tracker dog whose scent is broken and it's just leading me in aimless circles, around and around and around."
Sarah wondered then if she should confess what she thought was probably the biggest reason for the crying. She'd only known this guy for a few weeks. And still, she'd trusted him out there just now, being alone with Max while she took the snitch's call. That had to mean something. Nothing was more important to her than Max's well-being.
"I called my contact at the LAPD and they told me not to come in anymore, at least not for a little while. They think it isn't safe, since this guy keeps calling me. If this creeper can find me," she said, lifting her cell, "so can whoever it is he's informing on. That's the reasoning I was given at least."
"It's a good point," Chuck said quietly, and he shifted his hand so that he could wrap his fingers around hers, squeezing comfortingly. "They telling you to lay low?"
"Yeah. I just… Four years ago, this never would've happened. They'd have me right up front, I mean on the frontlines. I left the force, starting my own agency as a P.I., and now I'm a fragile flower that needs protection." She shut her eyes and turned her head away. "It's times like these I feel like I'm being judged for making the decisions I'm making while being a single parent. Like I'm not taking Max's safety into account."
Chuck sighed. She opened her eyes as she felt him sit on the edge of the bed next to her. She knew it was ridiculous timing for it, but she realized in that moment that Chuck Bartowski wasn't just in her bedroom, he was sitting on her bed. Next to her. She ignored the thrill that sent through her as best she could. Terrible timing for these thoughts and sensations.
"Seems to me nobody knows what it takes to protect Max, to look out for his well-being, more than you do. You're his mom. You're the one who's kept him safe and happy for, like, three years if you count the time before he was born. I mean when you were, um, you know, p-pregnant." He blushed a little and not for the first time, Sarah Walker wondered if men were okay. She thought maybe they weren't.
"I knew what you meant."
He nodded and scratched behind his head. "Right. Ahem." They weren't okay. Just as a sex in general. "Point I'm making is that I feel like you don't need someone else telling you how to protect your own son."
And maybe men weren't okay, even including this one, but Chuck Bartowski was still the best of them. She was pretty damn sure of it.
"You've just—at least it seems like to me—you've done a really good job of it so far—"
Sarah cut him off, leaning over to press her lips against his, cupping the back of his neck in one hand, bracing her other hand on his chest. She pulled back again slowly, blinking her eyes open. "Thank you, Chuck."
She'd needed to hear that, and she didn't think Chuck could've known how much she needed to hear it, which meant it had been a completely sincere statement from him, which made it all the better.
Sarah raised her eyebrows then as he smiled. "Speaking of my child and his protection, where is he exactly?"
Chuck winced. "Oh, sorry. Should I not've left him in there alone? Is he still too young for that?" He hopped up to his feet and rushed out of the room.
She giggled and followed after him. "I'm teasing. He can be alone for a second, it's no big deal."
And just like she said, he was sitting at his little table drawing something with one of his markers, a look of utter determination on his face. He looked up when they walked in and his eyes lit up as they fell on his mom. She hoped that never stopped being a thing.
"I asked him to draw where he wants to be right now," Chuck explained, "while I went in to check and see if his mom needed help."
Sarah smiled at Chuck and brushed past him, squeezing his arm along the way, coming to kneel next to Max. "What'd you draw, bud? Where do you wanna be right now?"
He held up the blue marker. "Waddoo. An'…dis a fisk."
"Ooooh, is this the water? And a fish? You wanna go to the beach, huh?"
"Yeah!" He pointed at an oblong circle. "Dis a…um…umba!"
"Wait, wait. I've got it. It's an umbrella!" Chuck chimed in, having stepped up behind them, towering over them as he leaned forward to look at the drawing.
"Yeah, umba! Uh…sun hot," Max explained. "So umba."
"An umbrella does protect you from the sun. Good job, Max. Is that us?" She pointed to the two lines on the sand with little circles on the end.
"Yeah. Undah umba."
"Good work, Max," Sarah said warmly, ruffling his hair and getting a grin and a giggle. She stood up and blew a bit of her hair out of her face, saying so only Chuck could hear. "Not sure we'll be making a trip out to the beach anytime soon, though."
Chuck was silent for a few long moments, and then he clapped his hands together. "Well what about going down to the end of the block for donuts? That allowed?"
She turned and blinked at him. "We just ate breakfast."
"So? You've earned donuts. This drawing right here definitely deserves a donut. It's so good, Max."
"I wanna doe!" Max exclaimed. "Doe doe doe!"
"See? He wants one." He winced, as if wondering belatedly if he'd overstepped, getting Max fixated on the idea of having a donut now. She both wished he would lighten up on himself, and was grateful that he was this thoughtful of her parenting methods.
"Fiiiine," she groused. "Pull my arm about eating a donut."
"Yessssss!" Chuck held his hand out towards Max for a high five and the two year old squealed in delight and smacked it, pulling both hands back under his shin with a shy beaming smile. "Come on, let's go."
"Ah… somebody needs to get dressed first." She cleared her throat. "And, um, I should put something else on maybe." She tugged at her clothes. "You mind waiting?" she asked Chuck with a wince. "Let me just change and freshen up real quick and then I'll take him to get him dressed…"
"Sounds like a plan." He looked down at himself then. "As long as you two don't mind eating donuts bought by a bum in wrinkled clothes."
"You're not buying," she said adamantly, pointing at him as she walked backwards towards the hallway. "That's final."
"No buy!" Max parroted, pointing at Chuck, even going so far as to poke his side with his little finger.
Chuck held his hands up with wide eyes as Sarah cracked up. "Okay. I'm convinced. I'm not buying."
But the grin dimmed on Sarah Walker's face as she went into her bedroom, and the deep ache and tiredness from the multiple developments this morning was threatening to catch up to her. She would dive head first into this short donut excursion, and she would enjoy the sweet, slowly warming interactions between her son and the man who seemed intent on coming around more often.
A/N: Hopefully I'll have another update on this one soon! Thanks for reading. Please review. They actually do help a whole lot so I appreciate those of you sending messages and leaving reviews.
-SC
