Spying in Chocolate
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Thank you!
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck and I'm not making money.
What had just happened?
What happened?
What was that?
Neither of them had brought it up since, and it had been an hour. They'd finished up at her apartment, climbed into Ellie's car, and drove through to get fast food for all 4 of them before heading back to the Buy More shopping center.
Chuck hopped out of the car on shaky legs and took a deep breath, shutting his door and moving to the back of the SUV.
"Oh, it's okay. We can eat first, while the food is hot," she said, turning around from where she'd been taking the bags of food to the front door of her shop, keys already in hand. "The boxes'll be fine for a bit."
He stared at her as she turned again and went to the door. Nodding to no one in particular, he followed her. She was fumbling a bit with the key and he reached over with a "lemme help ya", his fingers brushing hers as she let him take the keys with a quiet, "oh thanks."
Were they just going to continue pretending they hadn't just kissed each other in her apartment?
He'd kissed her first, but then she'd also kissed him right back before he could scrounge up an apology for misunderstanding, for assuming. He hadn't misunderstood and his assumption was right. She'd grabbed him and kissed him back.
But neither of them had said a single word about it since and he was a little bit lost, but not in a bad way, he felt like he was walking in the clouds.
Oh no would Ellie see it on his face? She had a knack for just SEEING things like that. He was so bad at hiding things from her. And Morgan too, but to a lesser degree.
Was he blushing still? He felt a little hot around the collar.
What if he walked in blushing?
What if Ellie caught on and said something?
But as they walked into the kitchen, they found Ellie with a rag in her hand, shining the glinting metal of the island counters in the center of the kitchen, while Morgan was on the other side of the kitchen inspecting the large walk-in freezer and asking, "Hey what if someone gets locked in this thing? Like, is there a lock on the inside or the outside?"
Sarah piped up, causing them both to whip around to look at her. "It doesn't lock at all. You just give it a push and it'll pop open." She shrugged then, grinning. "But you make a good point. Maybe I should get a stool or something I can use to keep it propped open."
"They're back!" Ellie exclaimed, beaming as she crawled up from her knees and tossed the cloth on top of the island. "How'd it go? Fit everything in the car?"
"Yep!" Chuck said with a shrug.
"Your brother is an expert SUV packer."
Don'tblushdon'tblushdon'tblushdon'tblush.
Damn it, he could feel the blush. He purposely didn't meet Sarah's gaze even as he felt it on the side of his face. "I've got experience."
"I forgot about that. Didn't you do that at Stan—"
"For a bit, yeah!" He cut her off and she gave him a weird, observing look for it. He'd deal with that later. "Lunch is here! Burgers and fries for everyone." He cleared his throat. "I'm gonna head next door and get everyone drinks."
He took orders and Ellie surprised him by offering to go with, grabbing him by his arm and sidling up close to his shoulder. "You'll need an extra pair of hands."
"S-Sure. Uh, okay."
Chuck couldn't help looking at Sarah over his shoulder. "We'll be right back."
She smiled warmly and nodded.
God she'd kissed him. She'd kissed HIM.
Ellie barely waited for them to get outside again before she burst out, "3 whole hours with Morgan. JUST MORGAN. You'd better appreciate me, Charles Irving Bartowski!"
Chuck gave her a wide-eyed look. "I-I do. You know, we could've had you go with Sarah, or Morgan go with Sarah and I could've stayed back—"
"Don't be ridiculous. The whole point was that Morgan and I stayed behind to clean the kitchen and you and Sarah went off together to her apartment."
"The whole…point?" he asked, giving her a dubious look as he opened the door to the ice cream shop and held it for her to go in first.
She leaned in close to him as she swept past and muttered, "What'd you think, we weren't gonna be your wing people?"
Chuck just stared after her, his jaw slack. He finally followed her in to get in line next to her. "My wing people?" It hit him then. "Oh God, you two planned to split us off like that, didn't you?"
She batted her eyelashes at him innocently and he groaned. "We did you a favor."
They actually had. They really, really had. But he wasn't about to admit that, because he would absolutely blush and she'd use her magic sister powers to discern that they'd kissed from that and he'd never be able to go back into that chocolate shop in any timely manner, and he was way too hungry for that.
"Whatever, you're both nuts. But I do appreciate both of you anyways."
"Yeah, you'd better. He started singing, Chuck. SINGING."
Chuck waited for the person in front of them to get their ice cream, before they stepped to the side and it was his turn. And then he asked, "What was he singing?"
Ellie smacked his shoulder as he chuckled and stepped up to the counter, ordering everyone's drinks. Ellie bumped him to the side and paid for the drinks. The worker handed them off a minute later, and the siblings left, shoulder to shoulder, making their way back to the chocolate shop.
"Chuck, she's super sweet. And ridiculously gorgeous, oh my God."
There was his sister's sincerity again. He smiled, his insides fluttering a little. "She is…both of those things. Yep."
"Chuck, I love you. I'm saying this with love. But I swear to God, if you don't make a move on this girl, if you let her slip through your fingers, it'll be such a massive mistake. I mean it."
He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, I know."
She froze for a second, her feet rooted to one place. And he had to stop to turn and face her. "Did you just say you know?" He nodded again. "This is different from the 'we're just friends' thing you've been doing with me."
He shrugged. "And?"
"So you're not 'just friends'?" Sighing, he turned and kept walking. "Hey, wait! Talk to me!" She trotted up next to him. "She really likes you. She has this…look she's giving you. I can see it."
Yeah, well, the look was nothing compared to the fact that she'd put her hand on his face and pulled him in—pulled HIM in—to kiss him. And they'd stayed like that for a really long time. His heart still hammered against his ribcage just thinking about it, over an hour later.
"I don't know about that, El, but I'm going to try. All I ask is that you give me the space to…I dunno, work this at my own pace."
"As long as your own pace isn't glacial," she said drily. He gave her a flat look. "Sorry. Okay, okay. I'll let you go at your own pace. I've got your back, little brother." As he grabbed the door to open it for her, she moved up onto her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "And for the record, I'm super proud of you, because she is—OH HI SARAH!"
Neither of them had seen Sarah in the store front until they walked in. She was setting up paper plates along the bar, giving them both a bit of an unsure look. Chuck was sure she'd heard that, but she was sweet and gracious, and she acted as if she hadn't.
Crap, would she think he'd told Ellie that they'd kissed? How could he convey to her that he hadn't?
"I thought this might at least make it a little less, um, well, us sitting on the floor. Still have to figure out the table situation here."
"It's perfect," Ellie said, sounding a bit too cheery. "And I have your lemonade here."
Morgan came out from the restroom and the foursome sat down at the bar to eat.
The conversation was light, about fun and trivial things, which was a relief for Chuck. He sat at the end of the bar with Sarah to his right, then Ellie, then Morgan at the other end.
He felt an energy from Sarah that he couldn't quite place, their kiss hanging over the both of them. They should've talked about it or something. He felt ridiculous, like a middle schooler with a crush, his crush having slipped a Valentine in his box causing him to wonder obsessively WHAT THAT MEANT.
After they ate, they all filed into the kitchen.
"You guys, really, I cannot thank you enough for everything you did today."
"We didn't finish," Morgan said, looking a bit glum.
Sarah tilted her head in THAT WAY at him and stepped in close to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and stooping a little to hug him. "I didn't need you to finish cleaning the whole kitchen." She stepped back and giggled as he tugged at his t-shirt collar with a blush. "You did more than I was expecting and I'm seriously just so grateful to you both. I thought I'd be having to get this place up and running alone and it's such a welcome surprise having help. Seriously." She clasped her hands together in front of her and smiled shyly.
Ellie went through a checklist of everything she and Morgan accomplished, and then everyone went out to take the boxes from the SUV into the spacious storage closet, stacking them in the way Sarah instructed, with the things she'd need more urgently in the boxes at the top of the stack.
"You labeled your boxes appropriately. Sarah, you get better the more I learn about you," Ellie said as they all stepped back to admire their handiwork.
Sarah shuffled her feet and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Oh, I just knew it'd be way easier to handle all of this if I did the work of labeling in the beginning. It means now I can just…take what I need out without having to search and dig through 63 boxes before I find it."
"Smart woman."
Chuck watched as she ducked her head, looking pleased and shy all at once. He just wanted to kiss her again.
They all walked back out to the front again and Ellie hugged Sarah, squeezing her tightly. "Anytime you need my help, or my car, you just let Chuck know. I don't mind helping wherever I can."
"Thank you so much, Ellie." They pulled out of the hug and Sarah beamed at the older brunette. "Are you sure I can't give you more money for the gas?"
Chuck's sister made a PFFT sound and brushed her hand through the air dismissively. "Please, no. You bought us all lunch and don't think I didn't notice you slip the money into my purse. You thought you were sneakier than you were."
Sarah winced. "I really thought I'd managed to do that unseen."
They all laughed as Morgan and Sarah highfived, and Ellie gave Chuck a significant look before squeezing his arm. "We'll be out at the car. Take your time," she added in a much quieter voice out of the corner of her mouth.
Once they left, Chuck whipped around to face Sarah again, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Um. So that's my family."
"They're great," she said immediately, easily, sincerity in her face and voice. It made everything feel warm and incredibly good.
"They think you're pretty great too, you know. For the record."
"I'm glad." Sarah was giving him a searching look then, and he felt duty-bound to at least clear one thing up.
"What my sister was saying, erm, when we came back with the drinks earlier…" She tried to put on a questioning look but he only had to smirk for her to decide to drop the act and bite her lip self-deprecatingly. "I don't want you to think that I told her…Uhhhhhh…"
"That we kissed?" she asked watching him closely. "At my apartment?"
Hearing her say it with that stunning voice, the way she lowered her chin a little and looked through her long eyelashes with those blue eyes, made him feel almost crazy.
"That," he said just as quietly. "I didn't say anything to her."
Sarah just nodded understandingly.
"I believe you."
It hung in the air between them then and he cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. "Thing is, uh, I love 'em both. They're the two most important people in my life. But sometimes they, um, take things into their own hands. And I know it's 'cuz they care a lot. About me. My welfare." She was looking at him with no small amount of curiosity. He thought maybe he'd get to the point. "See, they, um, they orchestrated things earlier today to make sure I was the one who ended up in Ellie's car with you, and going to help you at the apartment, moving the boxes and everything. They did it without me knowing what they were doing." He winced and he thought he spotted some burgeoning amusement in her gorgeous face. "And I'd never admit this to them because it'll just encourage them, but I'm glad they did it."
Sarah looked a little surprised for a moment, and then the warmth came back into her face. "So am I," she admitted, not breaking his gaze for a second, even as he saw a hint of a blush in her cheeks.
And there it was.
Ellie and Morgan had stuck their necks out to get Chuck and Sarah to go off together to work at her apartment, just the two of them, and he thought they wouldn't mind continuing to wait out there for a bit longer.
They could wait.
"Really?" She nodded wordlessly, smiling harder. He licked his lips thoughtfully, wondering if he had the courage to do it. "You know, I-I work the early shift tomorrow, but then I'm off for the rest of the day. Do you think you'll need help finishing up that kitchen?"
Sarah looked to the side and he saw a wry humor in her face. She was laughing at him a little, he knew. He didn't mind it. He was working up to this slowly. Because he was hoping the pay-off would be that much better.
"I might still need some help, yeah. But I can't ask you to—"
"Yes, you can," he interrupted. "I want to. Help, I mean."
"Okay." There was that shyness again.
"And maybe after we can grab dinner. Together." She swept her eyes up to his and gave him a long look, her eyes widening slowly. He knew she was realizing exactly what that meant. "If you'd like to."
She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Just slightly.
"I would like to do that."
He could've done a flip right there. They were both aware of what this actually was, and like the kiss, they were just going to let it hover warmly, shivering in the air between them, instead of putting it to words.
Chuck pulled his hands out of his pocket and clasped them together in front of him, then he decided that felt weird so he crossed his arms, and then he felt closed off, so he just dropped his arms to his sides and decided to stay with that.
"Well okay, then. Um, that's what we'll do. Cleaning your kitchen up and then, uh, dinner afterwards."
"Sounds like a plan."
A grin was starting to form on her face, behind the way she was biting her lip.
"Okay, good. Good, so I'll see you tomorrow. I'm off at 1 but I'll need to get out of my Nerd uniform before I come back. So I'll see you around 2ish? Maybe a little after?"
"I'll be here."
"Okay. Okay, good. Good." Clearing his throat, he took a step back. "I'm gonna go with them now."
She giggled. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
"You absolutely will. And then dinner—"
He didn't get much further, because she took a deep breath and then lunged for him, covering his mouth with hers. It was a quick kiss, but she left it all on the court, so to speak, her hands on either side of his face. And then she pulled back and bit her bottom lip, shrugging shyly.
"And then…" She took another deep breath, her eyes shining so brightly. "Dinner."
"Yeah," he breathed, shaking his head in awe. His lips tingling.
He finally left, looking at her over his shoulder one last time. And as he climbed behind the wheel of Ellie's SUV, she spun to face him with an expectant look on her face.
"WELL?"
"Those burgers were excellent, weren't they?" he teased, receiving a smack to the back of the head he thought he probably deserved."Okay, okay," he chuckled, holding up one hand as he guided the SUV out of the parking lot and back towards Echo Park. "You're looking at a man who got himself a date."
"CHA-CHING, BABY!" Morgan bellowed, slapping Chuck on the shoulder from the backseat. "THAT'S MY BOY! Wait. It's with Sarah, right?"
Chuck gave him as much of a look as he could considering he needed to keep his eyes on the road. "Of course it's with Sarah. Who d'you think, the UPS delivery guy?"
"Kristof is a strapping forty-something year old man. Crazier things have happened," Morgan said with a shrug.
Chuck sent him a dark look in the rearview mirror.
"Well not with this. This doesn't feel crazy at all."
"Because it isn't," Ellie said adamantly. "She seems like a great girl, and she certainly can pick 'em." His sister nudged his shoulder teasingly.
He laughed, blushing. "I don't know about that, but I do know that I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not with her."
And he could feel Ellie beaming the whole way back to their apartment.
$...$
"I have a question."
"I have an answer."
"Bold, if true."
Sarah laughed at that, looking over her shoulder at the guy who had since tied a scarf around his curls like a 1950s housewife to "protect these luscious locks from the elements", but really, she knew, just to make her laugh. Light burst in her chest every time she looked at him and saw that he still hadn't taken it off. "Just ask your damn question."
"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, pushing up from where he'd been kneeling, scrubbing the floors of the kitchen.
Casey and his contractor crew had just finished up the kitchen lights install that morning and it looked pretty good. It would look better after the clean-up, he'd told her. Once the plaster dried and everything was wiped down. She noticed that he tended to float around and dictate rather than do much of the actual work. It was something she tucked away in her head.
Chuck pulled her out of that head and dropped the sponge he'd been holding into the bucket of soapy water. "Are you going to just go crazy gung-ho before opening day and make a shit ton of chocolate on your own to sell when customers come pouring in? Or do you plan to hire a sous chef? Or…a sous chocolatier."
"You're getting better at the French accent, Chuck. You're almost there." He pumped his fist, making her giggle. She blew some of her hair out of her face and tossed her sponge to plop perfectly into the bucket with his. She ignored Chuck's "Oh damn! Swish!" and stood up, leaning against the nearby counter. "I'm already making some of what I plan to sell at home, to be honest. And then once things are clean and ready, I'll be loading them into the cases. I still have to order my custom boxes. And I need the foil for the chocolate bars. I need someone with some artistic talent to make me a logo, so that I can put it on my products." She sighed in frustration. "In short, I have a lot to do and unfortunately, it'll mean pushing off opening day way further than I ever meant to."
"That's okay," he said, wiping his hands off on a nearby hand towel, before tossing it to her. She caught it with a smirk, drying her own hands. "I mean, you haven't put any marketing out there with a set date, have you?"
"No press releases as of yet. Nobody knows I exist, or this shop."
"So you're okay. Look, it's okay if you don't have it all figured out yet. As long as it's done right, however long that takes. Says the guy who has never opened a business and knows absolutely nothing about it." He gave her a cheesy grin.
She snorted. "Same, actually. I bought a book on it, though."
"Did you?" He tilted his head. "Did it help?"
"Maybe. I mean, it might've helped if I'd read it." Chuck laughed and she smiled, loving the sound of it, knowing she'd been the cause. "Honestly, opening a business is so much harder than it looks, and it looked really hard. But I'm gonna do it. In large part because I have pretty good helpers."
"You hired a good contractor."
She laughed. "I did, but I was talking about you. And your sister and your best friend."
He stopped and furrowed his brow. "Oh, that went right over my head." She laughed at him as he swiped his hand through the air over his head and made a swishing sound. "I ruined that. Sorry."
"It's okay," she giggled. He was so cute.
"Have you put any thought into what you want your sign to look like? You gonna put it on the window? Or hang a big ol' sign above the shop? I assume you'll be redoing that sun-bleached craptastic awning out over the front of the store."
"No, I was thinking about keeping the sun-bleached craptastic awning…" He looked at her with big eyes and she burst out laughing. "I was joking. Of course I'm getting rid of it."
"Oh. Damn it! Stop leading me into traps that make me look stupid." He chuckled good-naturedly. "It's mean is what it is."
"I'm sorry." She reached over to give him a bit of a pat on his abdomen, throwing an innocent look through her eyelashes up at him.
"Mmm. Mhm. Okay."
The flirtation just felt so good, the two of them here in her chocolate shop's kitchen, all warm and cozy. It felt so natural and easy, even though when she laid in her bed at night alone and thought about him and the way he made her feel, it all felt more complicated than easy. He confused her, even when he made her feel more grounded and connected to the world, to this place in the world in particular.
And as she leaned back against the counter, the words came out of her before she could shove them back inside where they belonged.
"Never thought I'd be on my hands and knees redoing an entire space for this chocolatier when I first decided to hightail it out of D.C….and look at me." She gestured at the spot of the floor she'd been cleaning.
"What d'you mean?" he asked, hopping up onto the counter beside where she stood. She gave him a bit of a look and he winced making to hop back down. She giggled and hopped up next to him before he could. He realized he'd been teased again and he shook his head with a chuckle, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
"It was probably super foolish of me, but I thought I'd get to just rent a place, clean it up, add some flairs, create my brand, make my chocolate, the end. That was not what happened." Then she tilted her head, the reason why this had popped into her mind in the first place before flooding out of her mouth. "I could've had that, actually, but I got turned down a bunch and the most perfect little place was owned by someone who would've made every second of my time there a living hell."
Chuck folded his hands together, hunching forward, his fists dangling down between his legs. "So what you're saying is this was pretty much your last choice and you got stuck with it."
She laughed, then winced. "Yeah. Sorry. No offense to your cute little shopping center."
"Hey, I'm not offended. I didn't build it," he chuckled. "But wait, what was wrong with the other place? What about the owner?"
Rolling her eyes, she let out a long, put-upon sigh. "He wasn't exactly the ideal specimen as far as your sex goes."
"Who IS? I'm not," he laughed. He cleared his throat when she gave him a flat look.
"He not only hit on me the second he saw me walk up to the storefront, he lobbed the most disgusting innuendo at me the second my realtor was out of earshot."
"What the fuck? What'd he say?" He sat up straighter, his eyebrows turning down in anger.
She blushed in frustration and shame. Then she affected the guy's deeper stupid voice. "Can't wait to see you bent over that oven…making chocolate. Har har har."
Chuck slid off of the counter to stand and turned to face her, his eyes wide. "HE SAID THAT TO YOU?"
"He absolutely did." She sighed. "I gave him a couple weeks of me being there setting up my storefront before he ended up cornering me in my kitchen and trying to force himself on me."
He pulled his chin back and she watched anger and frustration sweep over his face. "Fuckers like that should be in prison."
"Oh, if he'd tried it, he would've ended up with a knife in his—" She stopped herself, realizing she didn't really want Chuck to know what she knew how to do with a knife. And why. She didn't want anybody to know that she kept a knife on her person most of the time, and not a cooking knife, either.
He just shook his head. "He'd deserve it. What a horrible douchebag. Guys like that…"
"What? Make men look bad?" she asked when he didn't continue.
Chuck sighed. "Sometimes I think we don't just look bad, we're actually just…bad. Too many of us."
"YOU aren't," she said quietly. "So what happened with you?"
"I dunno what happened with me, but that guy who owned the place you walked away from never had a single soul ever in his life say no to him. That, or he needs a good fist to the fuckin' face."
"Both?" she giggled, watching Chuck closely.
"Both is good." He nodded, smiling quietly. And then he looked at her just as quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that didn't work out for you, especially if it was a better place that didn't require all of this extra money and work for you. And I'm sorry you were treated that way."
"Thank you." She reached over and gave his T-shirt that was still damp from the soap and water fight an hour earlier a cute little tug. She felt a shyness rise in her, knowing full well that she didn't typically just talk to people like this. Not even the rest of the bakers at Rambeau's who she'd baked with for years. Not even Bryce. And here she was telling Chuck things she'd normally keep to herself. Things she'd ALWAYS kept to herself.
"But honestly?" she continued, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "As much as this place wasn't in even my top 5 when I was store hunting, it's really starting to look like my dream." She sniffed self-deprecatingly. "I'm not super good at first impressions. Making them or…I dunno the word, spotting them? Maybe I have bad taste."
"Uh, I've been seeing this place come together from almost the beginning. There's nothing wrong with your taste. Also, I've eaten your chocolate. If there's something wrong with your taste, Sarah Walker, I don't wanna be right."
She cracked up, her hand landing on his shoulder as he stepped in closer to where she still sat on the countertop. "That was the worst, Chuck. The worst."
"It was pretty bad," he chuckled. And then he pushed the scarf off of his head, rolling his eyes self-deprecatingly as he looked down at the thing, tossing it onto the counter. She couldn't help reaching up to push her fingers through his curls. And then it felt too intimate suddenly, like she was maybe crossing a line, so she ruffled it quickly, giggling as he squeaked and tried to push her hand away from his head, beaming. "Hey! Watch the hair, chocolate maker."
"Oh come on. That somehow made it look even cuter. I helped you out."
He glared teasingly. And then he crossed his arms, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know what? It might've cost you more money to get this place looking the way you want it to, add to that a lot of physical labor…" She widened her eyes and nodded in agreement. "But I hope that in spite of all of that, including the setbacks, when this place opens up, it's a massive success and it becomes every bit the chocolate shop you dreamed it would be. I mean sometimes a clean slate means you literally get to make it everything you want it to be. Top to bottom."
Sarah stared at him for a long time, something in her chest fluttering, her breath quickening. And she finally, very slowly, slid off of the counter, moving even closer to him. She wanted to kiss him again, but something stopped her. And instead she put her hand on his arm, squeezing gratefully. "Thank you, Chuck." He smiled. "You know, I feel a little glad trying to find a place for my chocolatier was such a royal shit show. Honestly." He gave her an intrigued look, raising his eyebrow. "No, really. I ended up with this…sketchy beat up building…" Across the parking lot from a Buy More with a Nerd Herd supervisor who was becoming the best part of LA for her. She wasn't about to say that. "I think we get along super well, me and this place."
"I'm sure it's grateful you got rid of that asbestos."
She laughed, grinning up at him. "I bet you're right. But I dunno, I am starting to really like it here." She peeked up at him through her eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction. "I'm starting to appreciate this place a whole lot."
"Kinda weird, I've lived here my whole entire life, and I'm starting to appreciate this place a lot more too…"
Sarah smirked, getting his meaning, knowing that he'd picked up on hers first. They were silent for a few seconds, Sarah not quite knowing how to respond as he'd knocked her back on her heels again.
She bit her lip, raising her eyebrow at him, and opened her mouth to try to come up with something on the fly, when there was a sound in the other room.
They'd both heard it because she froze and felt Chuck freeze as well. Chuck and Sarah spun to look in the direction of the storefront and then turned back to look at each other.
Slipping her hand in her pocket and feeling the cool steel of her knife, she moved towards the swinging door into the front. She could feel Chuck on her heels, which made her feel a lot better, weirdly enough, in spite of her self-defense knowledge and the skill she had with the knife her fingers were now running over.
"What is it?" he whispered as she inched the door open and peeked into the front.
"Sh," she tossed over her shoulder, not taking her eyes away from the shadow projected onto the covered windows. The parking lot lights were bright enough that she saw a tall figure standing outside at the window. A chill went through her.
The figure moved, and a large, blunt object crashed through the paper, and through the window. She screamed in shock and leapt back, her weight slamming into Chuck's chest.
"What the fuck was that?!" he exclaimed, but Sarah had already collected herself and dashed through the dark storefront to the door, unlocking it and ripping it open. "Sarah, careful—"
But the assailant had already gotten into their red Cobra and was peeling away, headed for the street.
She yelled, "FUCK YOU!" knowing they wouldn't hear it. But fuck them anyways.
Sarah didn't see the way Chuck halted, his eyes crossing, a shiver wracking his body, before he swayed and had to take an extra step to steady himself. All she saw was Chuck eventually joining her at her shoulder, a confused and almost worried look on his face. "Why the fuck did someone throw a wrench through your window? Who does that?" he asked, breathless.
"Fuck!" she snapped. She pushed a hand through her hair jerkily and looked up into the sky, letting out a frustrated growl. "When is this shit gonna stop?"
Pissed, she walked back to the door, opened it, flicked on the lights, and took in the sight of the glass spattered all over the floor. Thankfully the wrench hadn't shattered the entire window into pieces. It was such a big window, that would've been so much glass and so much shit. There was a wrench sized hole in the window, however, and the glass was cracked irreparably around it. She was going to have to replace the whole window. That wasn't salvageable.
"I'll call the cops and—"
But Sarah saw something under the wrench. Attached by a rubber band maybe? "Wait. Not yet. I just…" He'd given her a confused look. "I don't think there's anything they're gonna do for a broken window. Probably some asshole teenagers, a dare or something. Little fuckers."
She leant down to pick up the wrench with a paper towel, and as Chuck went to inspect the window, she slipped the folded paper attached to the wrench in her pocket without him noticing.
"You're probably right. Maybe they didn't even know this place has an owner. Breaking windows of abandoned buildings is a whole thing, isn't it? At least, it is in movies. Kids thinking they're rebels or whatever, damaging property for shits and giggles. Instead of actually doing something productive to fix society."
Snorting, she shook her head and set the wrench on the bar top, that piece of paper she'd slipped in her pocket burning a hole there. She didn't know why she didn't let Chuck see it, but her intuition was telling her that it hadn't just been jerk kids, that there was planned intent.
A chill went down her spine.
She'd always felt like she had to look over her shoulder. Ever since she got old enough to realize she'd been helping her dad commit crimes. It didn't matter that she'd stopped helping once she found a better path and that path relied on her good behavior, that she'd resented him for using her to con people for so many years. It was the kind of business that had a far reach, and her dad was the kind of conman who pissed off a lot of people. So she'd learned to keep to the shadows, keep things close, she'd learned to defend herself, to carry knives, and she supposed that was why Bryce was the closest she'd ever come to letting someone in… and still, she hadn't let him in at all.
Nobody in her life knew about Jack Burton, or whatever his name was at any given moment. He'd been Jack Burton the last time she'd seen him in person. Years ago.
And nobody would ever know about Jack Burton.
The note burned in her pocket. Singeing her leg.
"Are you okay?" Chuck asked, looking back at her over his shoulder.
Sarah shrugged, shaking her head. "Yeah. I'm just… Why? Why this place? Why now? I'm—" And then she took a deep breath and rolled her head back and forth a bit. "You know what? It's just the window. It's a wrench through the window. I'll just have them replace the window."
"I think the paper kind of softened the blow," Chuck said, still inspecting it. She heard his sneakers crunch on the glass.
"Hey, careful. There's glass everywhere. I don't want it to get stuck on your shoes and, I dunno, carry it back to your place and later get it stuck in your foot or something."
"You're right." Chuck carefully stepped back and wiped his feet on the towel she'd set at the entrance of the shop. "There. I feel like I saw a broom in the storage closet, and a dustpan. Wasn't that in the stuff we brought from your apartment the other day?"
She nodded quietly. "Yeah, but…" She realized she was really rattled, and that didn't happen to Sarah Walker usually. She knew she'd be less rattled when she read that note. Or maybe more rattled, depending on what was on it. "Um…yeah, I guess." She scratched the back of her head. "I'm going to—I need to just make a phone call. I'm sorry. I'll be right back."
"Of course, and I'll see what I can do about the glass for now." She nodded and took a step back towards the kitchen. "Hey." She stopped, looking at him, her heart racing in a bad way. "It's just a bit of glass, right?"
"Right." She sent him a smile she didn't mean, trying to let him know he'd helped, even if he really hadn't. He couldn't know there'd been a note, it wasn't his fault. He really thought it was a bunch of asshole teenagers getting their kicks after stealing beers from a liquor store or something. She knew it wasn't. She had a terrible feeling that it wasn't.
And as she escaped the room, slipping down the hallway and barricading herself in the office with her phone, that terrible feeling increased. Even as she dialed the number she'd memorized by now in spite of never getting an actual answer, the terrible feeling increased.
$...$
What in the fuck had that been?
He was rattled. Sure, the wrench through the window had chilled him to the bone, the crash and loud thunk. But he'd looked down at the wrench and something had happened. Something he couldn't explain, something that had happened more than once now.
A flash of light had cut across his vision, like someone had pointed a flashlight right into his face and turned it on and off a few times, and then the colors surged through his line of sight. A man lifted a wrench, brought it down again over another man's head, and then the wrench had been in a drawer someone pulled out, finally, it sat in the passenger seat of a sports car with black felt seat covers. And finally, some sort of arrest report with the face of a man with a dark mustache and a frown in the top corner. Someone named Don Trappins.
What did it even mean? And why had it happened? He felt insane. Was he losing his mind? Why had a wrench, of all things, done that to him? Who was Don Trappins? What the fuck?
He hadn't said anything to Sarah as he dashed out to her side, and again when they got back into the store. What could he even say? How did he describe it? He looked at certain things and then the flashlight thing happened, and the colors, and weird images of people murdering other people with wrenches and random names…
Wasn't he trying to keep this woman AROUND? So he kept his mouth shut.
Anyway, she'd had an interesting reaction to the wrench going through the window herself, and he didn't blame her for it at all.
And he hadn't thought about it until now, but his immediate reaction had been to grab the nearest makeshift weapon and charge in to protect her, and himself…but also her shop. After seeing every ounce of the effort, and every bit of herself, that she'd put into this place, and how clear it was that this dream of hers was…everything for her…he wasn't letting some fucking robber charge in to take that dream away.
What did it mean that he'd been 100% ready to kick a robber's face in for a woman he'd only known a month? It meant he was deeper into this than he'd realized.
And at this point, he was ready to do a lot more than just sweep up a bit of glass and stay with her until she was less rattled. And he could see she was rattled.
He'd also seen the piece of paper attached to the wrench that was thrown through the window. And it wasn't there now, he saw as he stooped to look at where she'd set it. Which meant she'd grabbed it while his back was turned, and she'd taken it with her to wherever it was she went.
To say he wanted to know what was going on with that paper was an understatement. Was there writing on it? A note? A note for her specifically? A threat? He'd watched movies before, he'd seen people throw crap through windows with notes and they were usually threats.
Who the hell wanted to threaten a nice woman trying to open a freaking chocolate shop in a shopping center in Burbank, California? Was it Don Trappins? He shook himself, realizing how idiotic that was. That wasn't real. It was some sort of sleep walking phenomenon. Some weird brain misfiring trauma response. Or he'd stroked out.
That aside there had to be more going on here and he wanted to know what. He NEEDED to know what.
Maybe it was a bit of the caveman that every guy had in him to some degree, but he wanted to protect her from everything, even knowing that she didn't need his protection. He wanted to find the asshole who'd hit on her when she was just trying to rent a space for her chocolate shop. It took a lot to make him feel violent, and that had really done it. He'd punch his lights out if he ever saw him.
But he also wanted to know what was going on that someone felt the need to send Sarah Walker a message, on a wrench they'd thrown through her window.
It didn't take much for Chuck's brain to jump to the next step in the progression of mafia-type threats: a drive-by shooting.
He shook himself, breathing, "Get a hold of yourself, you freaking nerd," under his breath as he took the dustpan and the broom back over to the glass strewn over the floor.
This wasn't a movie.
This was real life.
And this was a real life woman's shop she was trying to get to a point where she could open it and live her dream.
But that had also been a real life note on that real life wrench thrown through her window. His imagination could come up with a million different things that might be on the note, but he forced himself not to dwell too heavily on any one of them. Because the fact was he didn't know. And she was purposely taking it into another room to read it, meaning she didn't want him to know. He also didn't blame her for that. She didn't know him very well, even if they had struck up a friendship in the last month.
After all, he had no intention of telling her about Don Trappins and the weird images that flashed across his vision when he looked down at the wrench. She didn't owe him letting him in on that note, either.
But whatever it was, she was shaken up. And he wished she'd let him in, even if he got why she didn't. If he knew what was going on, maybe he could help. He could be her partner, someone she could unload to. He'd be her back-up any and every day of the week.
The dustpan was full of glass shards by the time Sarah finally came back. She was a little pale, and he thought maybe there was some anger too. But she slipped a mask over all of it as she smiled at him.
"Oh…wow, that's…thank you. Um…" She winced and he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Everything okay? You okay?" What was on that note? What'd she see? Was someone threatening her? What was going on, damn it? "You sorta look like you've seen a ghost…"
She shook her head and smiled harder, and he felt his stomach sink further. She wasn't going to tell him. He tried not to be too disappointed, knowing she didn't owe him anything. "No, I think I just got a little rattled. But, um, I'm so sorry, Chuck." She bit her lip. "Do you think we can raincheck on the dinner?"
He frowned, not able to hide it in time. He could see how bad she felt about it, immediately. And that, she didn't hide behind a mask. "Oh. Sure, of course. But I can help you with the—"
"No, no. I've got the clean-up. It's just some broken glass. I'll put some extra tarp from the back over it and have someone replace it for me later. That's, um, who I called. My realtor, she has a glass guy. So I got his number. It's fine. I just have to deal with this, you know? You don't have to, though. And…yeah, I think dinner just won't work tonight. I'm not, um, in the right frame of mind and you deserve better. There's clean-up I've gotta do now too."
"I can help," he tried. "We don't have to do dinner, that's fine. I completely understand," he said, extending a hand towards her as he set down the pan and the broom. "It just…um…I can at least help clean up and cover the hole in the…"
"No, it isn't necessary. Really. I have to do this on my own." She winced again. "I'm sorry, Chuck. It isn't you, this just isn't—I'm out of sorts and I think I should just…" Be alone. She didn't have to say it.
He wasn't offended, his feelings weren't hurt. He understood, even if he was disappointed.
But most of his disappointment was in not knowing what was on the piece of paper she'd taken off of the wrench someone threw through her window. And the fact that she'd actively hidden it from him. Did any of it have to do with the weird flashes that went through his brain?
What was this? What was happening?
He hated just leaving her here by herself to deal with all of it. But there was a dull ache starting right between his eyes and maybe he should.
"I…don't like the idea of just abandoning you here with a broken window and glass everywhere," he admitted quietly. "But I understand. I'll get out of your hair," he said with a soft smile.
"No. Chuck. You're not…" She crossed the room and took his hand, squeezing it. Her touch just did things to him. He had no control over the way his heart thudded in his ribcage. "You aren't in my hair. You're not a… Look at all the glass you've already swept up. You're the sweetest guy I've ever met." She looked him in his eye and he felt weak. "I'll find you and we'll—we'll reschedule, okay? I swear, this isn't a brush-off or—"
"No, I know that." He grinned. "I know. We'll raincheck. Absolutely. Sounds good to me." He shrugged then, squeezing her hand back. "Besides, I know where to find you."
Sarah winked and grinned back.
As he pulled away to start getting ready to go, she held fast, causing him to look back at her. "Chuck, thank you. Not just for offering to help with all this, but for understanding when—I mean, for understanding. Just in general."
He could feel the warmth and sincerity in her, even though he knew she was nervous. He could feel that too.
And he went out on a limb, closing the distance, letting go of her hand, and wrapping her up in a tight embrace, just holding her close for a long while.
She silently accepted it, wrapping her own arms around his torso and just clinging, burying her face in his neck.
He thought about saying something else, like offering her whatever she needed, or maybe telling her it'd be okay. But something else was going on here, and he didn't know what, and he hated the idea of offering up false promises. Just in case it was something big.
And if it WAS something big… He was a little startled to realize he meant to stay right here and be whatever she needed him to be. And that wasn't the type of person he'd thought he was all this time.
Maybe he just liked this woman THAT much.
He finally pulled back and she smiled up at him. "Sorry. I just thought maybe that might be something you need right now."
"You thought right," she said warmly. "Thank you. And please don't…" She stopped herself and took a deep breath. "Please don't be a stranger."
It was almost like she knew she was pushing him away tonight, and that she was afraid he'd take it as a message to stay away, that she didn't want him around. It healed his heart a little even as it broke it further. She wanted him here, but he was nervous for her, for whatever it was she was going through.
"I work right there," he said, pointing towards the Buy More. "And you're kinda stuck with this place now." He pointed down. "Ergo, you're kinda stuck with me."
"Good," she chirped, grinning.
He left a minute or so later, and she held onto his hand at the door, even as he stepped away, as if she really didn't want him to go. But she sent him away anyway, and he had this niggling feeling it was because of that note.
As he drove back home, disappointed and trying to buck himself up, he found himself lost in the mire of how he'd left Sarah behind—with obvious nerves in her, worry, concern, and she was still seeming so rattled by the day's events.
Was it the wrench going through the window in the first place that had shaken her up so much? Or was it the fact that it had apparently been a message for her?
He had a feeling it was the latter.
Sarah Walker didn't seem like the type of person who was rattled easily.
And he knew he wasn't going to be able to get any of this out of his aching head for the rest of the night.
Uh oh!
SarahsSupplyCloset