A/N: This one forced its way into my head following a chat with David Carner on the Chuck FanFiction Facebook group. I then discussed it with MarekeyDeSad, my beta here, and he suggested combining it with another Charah scene I had shared with him; that will come much later, though.
So, thanks to DC for the idea and to Markey for his help on this.
For those that are wondering, I've not abandoned my other stories, just put them on the backburner while I started this one off. I will restart writing those soon.
So, what's this one about?
Sarah Walker has been writing a series of novels about a female CIA Operative. The first three have been popular and a fourth is due out soon. Her editor asked her to inject some male interaction, à la Bond, into the fifth book. It makes Sarah think about her own love life, or lack of it.
Of course, this AU story will be a Charah one. It's what I do.
The Novelist
Chapter 1: Added Interaction
As she stared at the blank page in front of her, Sarah tried to get her head around what her editor had told her yesterday. Wasn't the intrigue and adventure enough? Just because Fleming had always written about a spy who went from city to city bedding women in every one of them, why would readers expect that from her characters as well?
Some people had likened her female character to the male one written by Fleming, even though they were nothing alike. She often wondered if it was because she herself was British, having moved to the States when she was seven. She, however, regarded herself as American, even if her accent and words sometimes slipped back to that of her parents.
Regardless, she was convinced that her spy. Rebecca Franks, was more like real ones and behaved as they would. Focused on the mission, not getting sexual satisfaction like Bond always seemed to her.
Hell, her own life was like that too! Focused on the novels rather than even going out, let alone bedding some guy. She'd done that at college and look at how well that had worked out for her.
So, now she had to contrive some circumstance where Becky was distracted from one of her missions and did take some guy to her bed. She spent the next hour trying to believe that about her character, let alone contrive some scenario where it might happen. At the end she just couldn't do it and almost slammed her laptop closed.
She got up and walked away from her study, back into the living room and slumped down on the couch. This just wasn't going to work.
She grabbed her phone and called her editor to tell her. She half expected it to go to voice mail and have to leave a message. In fact, that would be preferable to a real conversation, but, no, this time the call was answered. "Hello, Sarah. What's up?"
She launched straight in. "Ellie, I can't do it. She just wouldn't go looking for sex like that. She's too focused on her work."
Ellie chuckled. "Are we talking about your character or her writer?"
Sarah huffed. Her editor knew her better than most. "Hey, not fair!"
Ellie didn't really sound apologetic, but said the right words, "Sorry, Sarah, but when did you last even go out?"
"Are you unhappy that I crack on with my stories rather than going out drinking and dancing?" Sarah growled. She didn't think about how she slipped into using a British phrase her mom occasionally used, but that didn't faze Ellie who was used to Americanizing her stories where needed. She had heard this phrase before, knowing that "crack on with my stories" meant something like, "keep my nose to the grindstone, writing my stories".
Ellie did sound a bit contrite after that. "You're a great writer, Sarah, but you do need to live a little." She paused for a few seconds, then, before Sarah responded, asked, "What if she got into a relationship rather than just having sex with some random guy?"
Sarah thought about that for a while. "You mean she has a life outside of the job?" she pondered out loud.
Ellie couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped. "Imagine that!"
Sarah was thinking about her character, though, and missed the implication about her own situation.
Maybe that would work, she thought. Would her readers go for that? It would paint her character in a different light, or more accurately, flesh out the character as a person, not just as a job. "I could go with that. Maybe someone she meets as part of her job."
She could almost feel Ellie's enthusiasm coming through. "That sounds great, Sarah. What would she want in a man?"
Sarah had no idea. "I'll have to think about that, Ellie."
She ended the call, feeling better, but with no clear idea on the way forward.
She also thought about Ellie's comment that she should live a little. She hardly ever left the house these days, having deliveries for most things. She did go to her local coffee shop, though. She liked the place, the smell of which originally drew her in, however she had become a weekly regular of sorts. Of course, after receiving her coffee, she interacted with no one, just sat in a corner to sip at the wonderful brew. She had then started to listen to people around her and had gotten a number of lines for her books from their conversations.
She was happy with her situation, but maybe she had disconnected with society, retreating into the world of fiction, but she just can't bring herself to interact with people socially, save for when Ellie pushed her with the book tours.
Half an hour later, she was still sitting staring at a blank screen, but at least she knew what she needed for her next novel now, just no clue as to how to achieve that.
There was no point talking to her mom about this challenge. Although a writer, her mom's specialty was non-fiction, usually writing about science, so romance didn't feature in her books.
She put on the playlist she liked to listen to as she tried to work out what to do next, one playing older songs, to try to help relax her.
Maybe if she captured what the blanks were, then thought about how to fill them, one at a time.
What does she like in a man?
She started with appearance.
- Height, build etc.
- Eye color
- Skin color
- Hair color (although she knew that was easy to change)
- Hair length
- Facial features
Then moved on to other characteristics.
- Voice
- Temperament / behavior
- Intelligence
- Job
- Rich/poor
- Interests
- Background. God, yes, background
So, if she filled this in, would it help decide what Rebecca wanted in a man? She hoped so.
She decided she had to test this on herself.
Hmm. She had never done this before, thought about what she liked, as opposed to what she usually ended up with. Would it be different?
She started with height. She'd not consciously done it before but she gravitated toward men who were at least as tall as herself. She was 5'9", so that wasn't difficult; most men were at least that tall. However, thinking about that, if a man was at least 6'1", she could wear heels. She'd often had to avoid that or tower over men around her. Hmm. So, for her, and her character, who was modeled on herself, a man at least 6'1" tall.
Build. Well, she used to go with athletic men, but was that a choice or just the ones who had approached her? She decided athletic was a good starting point for her character, otherwise the men wouldn't be able to match her. Probably worked for herself too, but as long as the man wasn't excessively skinny or fat, she wasn't so bothered. No, scratch that; she didn't want to grab love handles, so not fat. She noted that, but also that athletic was probably still the preference,
Moving on quickly, what about eye color? She realized she wasn't that bothered, so decided her character would be the same.
How about skin color? She knew she herself hadn't ever been that picky with skin color, or with ethnicity. There may be some features associated with the latter that she preferred, but skin tone was not really an issue. However, she was supposed to capture a preference, so noted that hers, and therefore her character's, was white Caucasian.
Hair. Hmm. Well, color didn't matter at all as it was so easy for the individual to change. However, the choice may lend itself more to personality, so not blue, purple or green. That also affected style, so no Mohicans, which led to hair length.
Hair length was more of an issue. She liked a man to have hair, but not too long. That fitted for her character too. Maybe enough to run her fingers through it. She would like that and decided her character would too.
Facial features. Well, she didn't like beards. Stubble might be alright, but was rough on her skin when one had… No, don't think about that! So, beardless and clean shaven. That was not often the case with the men she'd met at college. She also would prefer no facial metal work, so no ear piercings and no nose, lip or tongue piercings, either.
Voice? She liked a deep voice, but as long as it wasn't high pitched, she was fine with it. Accent didn't matter, as long as she could understand it.
Temperament was important, though. She had been with a couple of rather aggressive men in her past and didn't like that at all. She assumed angry men were the violent ones, but she may be wrong about that. She certainly would want a man who was even tempered, but how could you really tell?
Behavior touched on that. How they behaved around others, either when with her or when not. How did they react to others? She preferred even tempered, kind even. Were there any kind men out there? Would a man show kindness or would that be seen as weakness and shunned?
Intelligence. Yes, both would want intelligent men; ideally as intelligent as themselves or more.
Job? That was an interesting one. One she and her character probably differed on. She wouldn't want someone whose job took him away from her for long periods. If she wanted a relationship, she'd want her man to be there for her. Her character wouldn't care because she traveled herself. So, for herself a local office worker, probably. But for Rebecca, a globetrotter would be ok, as long as they could be together when free. That final part was a similarity.
Rich / poor. Well neither really. Rich could well mean ill-gotten gains, but, in her mind, meant no concept of value. Poor was not good either, as they would probably be keen to change that status and may lead to crime, or to thieving from their partner. She knew she was being judgmental on both, but this was just for her.
Interests were an interesting and larger topic.
Interested in sports for themselves would be her normal choice, but not to the point that their main focus was the sport, so no daily training and weekends lost to it. Fanatical sports fans were to be avoided, as well; too much time following their teams
Music interests could be the same. She knew a few at college that would religiously follow their favorite bands. That took her to religion as an interest. She wasn't religious at all, and wouldn't want to be with someone who was excessively so.
Gamers tend to be obsessive at college, so to be avoided.
Oh, and not a big drinker. A drunken boyfriend would be bad for both her and her character.
Finally, background. Hers was not good and her characters followed that, although she certainly didn't want anyone to know that. So, she shouldn't judge men on this, but it was impossible not to. So, no criminal background. That would be a big challenge for her character who normally only mixed in such circles. The other set of people that her character mixed with was other spies. She written about one 'almost boyfriend' which hadn't worked out. Would she try again? Would she, herself risk such a person? Probably not, in case they were Bond types, with a girl in every city. She would not want the competition and neither would her character.
So, what did she have?
For herself, an intelligent clean-shaven white Caucasian with normal colored hair and an athletic body, who wasn't so much so that they were obsessive about their body and sports; not excessive about hobbies; kind and caring and certainly not aggressive or a drunk. Not too rich or poor and a 'safe' background. Oh, and a local guy who didn't travel much. And no criminal background.
For her character, much the same, apart from the globetrotting being acceptable.
That certainly wasn't what she herself had in the past, but shouldn't be too difficult, should it?
As she sat and pondered what to do next, a song came up on her playlist, The Beatles' "Paperback Writer," an enjoyable song from the late 60s. This was one of her favorites, especially as the title seemed relevant to herself. If she was writing novels in the 60s, they probably would have been paperbacks, as hardbacks were really only for the big names back then, and digital books were just a science fiction dream.
She sang along with Paul McCartney, thinking how it reflected her initial days submitting her first novel to publishers.
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job
So I wanna be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Well, apart from Lear, the rest of it fit how desperate she was back then.
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I could make it longer if you like the style
I can change it 'round
And I wanna be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
She had been flexible and, thankfully, Ellie had liked what she read and worked with her to create that first novel about Rebecca. That had been popular, as had the second and third, and now the fourth was due to be released, all being enhanced with the assistance of the same editor. Yes, thanks to Eleanor Bartowski, she was now becoming well known in the world of spy fiction. If Ellie felt she needed to add a love interest, she was probably right.
Of course, in addition to deciding what Rebecca would want in a man, Sarah needed to also consider where Rebecca might meet her love interest. That would require some thought and maybe some research, too.
Where should she go to find this Mr. Right?
She was doubtful about this place. Sure, it was where she'd heard people met in this area; nightclubs always were, but now she was here and the music was blaring away, deafening her, she could hardly think, let alone talk to anyone. This took her back to those awful clubs and parties at Harvard where men grabbed the girls and pulled them onto the dancefloor, but not to dance, just to grope. The girls had usually had enough to drink that they went along with it, and then, afterward, back to the guy's place for sex. Hell, she'd done it a few times, but always regretted it the next day when she awoke in their beds and realized what her alcohol consumption had led too. The walk of shame was pretty awful, too.
That wasn't what she wanted. She hadn't wanted it back then and she certainly didn't want it now. No more drunken nights of regret. In fact, one-night stands under any circumstance were a thing of her past and not her future.
Fortunately… fortunately?...yeah, fortunately, she was older than most of the girls here, by at least seven years, probably ten. The guys here were mostly younger than her too and looking for younger girls still. So, she wasn't surprised that she attracted little attention.
She had forgotten to add age into her list. She didn't want a man more than two years younger than her and probably not more than seven or eight years older, either. That might be mean, but she was being honest with herself here. In general, men were less mature than woman of their own age, so a younger man would be even less mature. In general. She decided her character would feel the same. Maybe more so, because her job had made her grow up so fast.
Anyway, this place was awful, and she had to get out as fast as she could.
There were still people coming in, so she was going against the tide as she climbed the stairs. She got jostled quite a bit, but eventually escaped onto the street.
The line to get in was still quite long, but couples and single women were getting in quite easily. Single men were only being let in if the doormen felt enough single women had already entered. Sarah knew this differentiation was wrong, but life was like that.
She walked a bit too close to one of the men grumbling outside. As he remonstrated to a friend, he bumped into her. She nearly fell as she twisted her heel in the stilettos she was wearing.
The guy, however, was fast. He turned quickly and caught her. Wrapping his arm around her waist and grabbing her shoulder with his other hand. That brought her face close to his and his eyes widened when he looked at her. "Wow! Quite a catch," he said. She wasn't sure if he was talking about his action or about her.
"Thanks," she muttered. Unfortunately, he didn't let go of her, so she guessed her was referring to her. "You can let me go now," she advised him.
"Why would I? You're both my ticket into the club and a bed partner for tonight." This time she noticed the alcohol on his breath.
He straightened her up, but still with his arm around her. He turned back to his friend to show off his 'catch.' "Looks like I'll be in before you, Paul."
His friend chuckled. "In the club first too, Dave." Sarah really didn't like that comment!
Her captor chuckled. "Yeah." He stepped out of the line and pulled Sarah with him, heading toward the front of the line.
By this time, she had sized him up. He was white, taller than her and she could feel the muscles on his arm, so no couch-potato. Back at college, she would probably have gone along with him, into the club and maybe to his bed, but that wasn't what she wanted now.
She looked back and saw that his friend was no longer in sight, so couldn't interfere.
She deliberately 'twisted' the ankle on the opposite side to this Dave, who stopped. Then she jabbed the heel of her nearer foot into the main part of his foot.
He cried out and lifted the foot to get it away from her, releasing her in the process. Once free of him, she swiftly swung her other leg around and kneed him in the groin. He started to crumple in pain, but found her other knee hitting him under the jaw.
That was it, he went down groaning from three injuries.
Sarah scanned the people near her. Some looked shocked, but some of the women started to applaud her.
Thankfully, none had cameras pointed her way. She swiftly headed away from the club.
She was pleased with herself for her escape, but annoyed that she got into that mess in the first place.
She definitely wasn't going to find a prince charming in a place like this, and neither would Rebecca.
When she finally got home, her mom was asleep. Sarah poured herself a glass of wine from the fridge and sat contemplating what had happened.
In a way, it was good. She could use that incident in her next book. Rebecca scoping a place out like that. Probably for a mission, but even if not, still a fight she would win.
Sarah was glad she kept herself fit and limber or the evening wouldn't have gone so well.
She wouldn't be going back there again. Strike that from possible venues to meet her dream guy. And strike muscle-bound guys from the list of potential boyfriends if they got drunk and went to places like that.
Even if she'd gone there with her old friend from college, she would probably have been left on her own when Carina picked up some random guy.
No, nightclubs were not for her.
She wondered where would work. Maybe a book signing?
Ellie Had arranged a tour next week of three cities, traveling out on Sunday to Washington for the first session on Monday, Chicago on Wednesday and then ending back here in Los Angeles on Friday. Six days for three sessions. She knew she'd be exhausted at the end of that and normally hated those tours, but they were part of the deal with the book company, so she had to go along with it. Three stops weren't so bad, though and Ellie would be good company, as long as she didn't tease her about her lack of love life.
For tonight, once she finished this wine, it was straight to bed. Single, but content.
A/N: We'll start the book tour in the next chapter, and meet Chuck Bartowski.
I have to thank Markey for reminding me of the excellent song by The Beatles, which does resonate with this story.
