The Nerd Versus the P.I. Family

By Steampunk . Chuckster

A/N: I love a good detective fic. I really do. But I wouldn't be myself if I didn't make my detective fic about the quiet moments in between the actual cases and action. That's what this chapter is. Hope you all enjoy. Oh and I really appreciate folks who said nice and supportive things in my PMs and in reviews. Trust me, I've got my own ideas about what I want to write and I will continue to do exactly what I'm doing. Thank you sincerely, folks!

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.


The macaroni and cheese was melting in her mouth.

It was delicious.

Still, she found she couldn't quite get over the fact that this was happening in the first place.

She was sitting at someone's table, on a date technically, eating food he'd cooked from scratch. And an In-N-Out burger with fries.

But the important part was that he'd baked macaroni and cheese in preparation for her arrival.

From scratch.

And then she noticed the napkin.

He'd folded it into a triangle and tucked up against the left side of her plate. She had this image of him stooped over the table, meticulously folding the napkin into a triangle, tucking it there… A paper napkin folded into a triangle. It was doing things to her.

"What is it? You okay? Oh crap, is it an ant? Did you find an ant on the table?" he asked, holding his wrist up against his mouth as he talked around his food. "Shit, I thought they left for good finally; they haven't shown up again in over a month and I thought I was done with 'em."

Sarah blinked at him, and then she shook herself. "No! No, no. Don't worry, no ants. I just realized that you…erm…folded…my napkin." He looked confused at that, wrapping his lips around his straw and slurping his makeshift Neapolitan shake. She watched it slither up the straw and disappear into his mouth. "Uh…nothing. Don't worry about it," she said, swiping her hand through the air between them.

He seemed content to let her have it, giving her a side look then smirking and going back to his food.

She took a deep breath and ate more of the mac'n'cheese. And after a long, potentially awkward moment of silent eating, she broke the silence. "Chuck… Thank you." He lifted his eyebrows in question, chewing. "For this. For making me dinner."

He swallowed, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Oh. No, hey. It was nothin'. Really, it didn't take me long. I mean, it sits in the oven for like forty-five minutes so that takes a while, but prepping it? It's easy."

"It's not about whether it was easy or not, Chuck, it's about the fact that you did it in the first place. You could've ordered…I dunno, Chinese takeout, and I'd dig into it happily. But you actually cooked something." She smiled at him. "Thank you for doing this. It's delicious. Really. Best mac'n'cheese I've ever had."

"Well…" He looked very pleased, blushing a bit. "You're welcome. I wanted to have something for you to eat, that's all. I invited you here during dinner time." He shrugged. "And I'm not sure I believe you about it being the best. Come onnnn," he drawled teasingly.

"No, I'm serious," she giggled. "You can tell your sister I said it, too, since you told me… This is her recipe, right?"

"Yep!"

"You can tell her it's a damn good recipe and that I said you did an amazing job with it. It's seriously melting in my mouth." And then she paused, realizing something. "That is, if, um, well—" Crap, how did she say this? "I-I guess don't know if your sister is even aware that you made this for a date. I mean, I don't know if she knows you're…going out on dates with someone, with me. I didn't mean to assume…" She needed something to do besides looking at him with wide, startled eyes, so she grabbed her shake and drank some.

"Oh! No, I told her. Well, er…" He squirmed in his chair as she turned her wide eyes to him, swallowing, licking her lips slowly. "I just mentioned that I went on a date. I haven't—I-I didn't go crazy and tell her all about everything. Obviously."

He chuckled nervously.

She sent him a reassuring look, but she was assailed by guilt. This was only their second date, sure. And she had no idea what kind of future was here. She didn't know him well yet. All she really knew was that he was the kind of guy who cooked for a girl on the second date, that he was open and tolerant of her situation with being a single parent (so far), and that he was a good kisser. So she hadn't said anything to anyone about going out with him. Except for Carina and Max, obviously. She hadn't had a choice there, considering they'd been part of the first date when Chuck had picked her up from her apartment with the both of them standing there gawking at him embarrassingly. At least, Carina had. Max was just a two year old fixated on the stickers he'd gotten out of the deal.

And here he was telling his sister about her.

Sarah found herself wondering then if he'd told his sister about Max, about the fact that the woman he was dating had a two and a half year old son.

"She must be a great cook," she said, trying to transition into a different topic, for both of their sakes.

"Best I know, honestly. She taught herself when we were kids. Lots of trial and error." He winced. "In her defense, she never almost burned the house down the way I did."

She giggled. "Noooo," she drawled, giving him a doubting but amused look.

"It's true! I tried to fry a steak." She thought he earned the what the fuck look she sent him."Okay, in my defense, I was sixteen and didn't know what a catastrophe that would be and Ellie wasn't there to explain why I shouldn't just drop a piece of steak into sizzling oil."

Sarah cracked up. "Well, you've improved since then."

"Eh, don't give me that much credit. Ten years has made me smarter. I baked mac'n'cheese instead of trying to fry two steaks." He tapped his temple and winked. "Smarter."

"Well, now I know to warn my own son not to cook anything unless he clears it with me first. Especially no trying to fry something in a skillet filled with hot oil."

"You're lucky he can't reach the stove yet."

Sarah widened her eyes. "Oh God, hopefully I have some years yet. It's hard enough keeping him away from things that are his height now. He learned to walk and a few days later he was sprinting everywhere, making me feel nuts. It took me weeks to learn a trick to cut him off before he got too far." She shrugged. "Okay, maybe he learned to sprint in a few weeks but in toddler time that's the same as a few days, everything seems to go by so quickly. Except for potty training. That seems to just…drag on…and on…and on…" He was already chuckling as she added one more, "and on."

"Trouble with potty training, huh?"

"It's the worst," she groused, pushing a hand through her hair. "He's almost there. He really is. He doesn't have to be in diapers anymore, but sometimes I think he just holds it when all he has to do is say he has to go and I'll take him, or just—I mean, he can walk. He can go to his own toilet. But it's such a task, getting him to actually do it."

"Isn't it a thing people say? That boys take longer?"

"Maybe. I guess so." She shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe it's just the fact that I'm a woman trying to teach a little boy. I'm probably just making it up, making excuses or whatever, but he is just killing me." She pinched the bridge of her nose, not realizing she was starting to rant. It all just tumbled out. "I ask him thirteen times if he has to go when we're out so that I can take him to the bathroom before we get in the car. No, he says. No no no no no, every time. And then I get him in his carseat and we're on our way somewhere and I hear him go, 'Uh ooooohhhhhhh'…"

"Oh, noooo," Chuck groaned, wincing.

"Yes. And he has to sit there in his own pee until we get home and I have to wipe him down and figure out how in the hell to clean a carseat, or should I just buy a new one altogether, throw his clothes in the wash…? Or in the trash?" She moaned in misery and dropped her face in her hands. "Parenting."

"Well, hey, you know what? He's doing better than the kid I used to babysit when I was in high school! He was almost four and he still wore diapers. And you said your son is two, right?" She smiled and nodded. "So you must be doing something right."

That was when she realized she was whining about Max, and she knew how that must look. She thrust out a hand towards Chuck. "I'm sorry. I'm just…ranting. About my own kid. Sorry, that's—I love him more than anything. It's just hard sometimes, raising a kid. Especially, er, well…God, I hate saying this because it invites a whole annoying conversation from people pretty much every single time, but the truth is…" Was she really about to tell this guy the truth on date number two? And potentially open the door for the same type of conversation with him that she hated with other people? "…Look, raising a kid by yourself is so freaking hard, you have no idea."

Chuck reached across the table to wrap his hand around hers, and he squeezed. It set her at ease a little as she dropped her gaze down to where their hands were joined. "Don't apologize. You can rant. I don't really know firsthand since it's been a while since I've babysat." She tried not to gawk. He literally said he didn't know. No explaining parenting to her. He just said he didn't know. "…but I can imagine that sometimes kids can be…well, little human beings. And human beings are difficult, different moods happen, they're little jerks." She'd never heard anyone put it quite like that and she found herself appreciating the way he'd just said that. But he winced suddenly. "I didn't mean that to sound that way. I'm not saying—"

Sarah laughed. "Oh, the jerk thing? S'okay. Max is a little shit sometimes, but he's my little shit."

That made him chuckle. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I promise." He pressed his free hand to his chest in sincerity.

"I know you didn't, it's okay," she giggled, brushing it off with a warm smile. "Anyway, sorry. Guess I just kind of went off on a whole…thing." She cast her gaze off to the side, embarrassed.

"Nah, don't worry. I don't mind it. And I'm sure you're right about being a parent, let alone the fact that you're a single parent. Raising a whole-ass human being is hard, Sarah! I don't have to be doing it myself to trust you on that."

She sat there, feeling a little better, but still feeling a touch embarrassed. He was being sweet but she needed to keep stuff closer to her chest. She'd never had issues with that before. She didn't know why tonight was somehow different.

But then he furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

Propping her chin in her palm, she smiled at him. "What?"

"Hm? No, uh, nothing." She gave him a dubious look and he chuckled, blushing as he ducked his head. "I, uh, I just don't know if I'm being too…um, nosey…if I ask this."

"Try me," she said with a shrug.

"Okay, well… You don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable. Or if it's too personal."

"Noted." She waited patiently for him to figure out the words. She could see him practically building the sentence in his head, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Uh, okay. Well, I guess I'm just wondering… You're a single parent, and babies don't—I-I mean, toddlers don't just come from nowhere." He squirmed then. "I'm being so weird right now."

"A little," she teased, amused.

He glared in jest, then ducked his head again, embarrassed. "I just…I guess I'm wondering, uuuuhh, where Max's biological father is." She felt a jolt in her chest even though she'd sort of known that was the question he was building towards. It wasn't that she was upset that particular man wasn't in her life anymore, that he'd bailed. He'd been honest and she appreciated that there wasn't some half-assed non-attempt at a father around Max. It was more that she still felt somewhat raw thinking about the day at some point in the future when she'd have to tell this story to her son—the product of that fledgling and failed relationship.

"I'm sorry. That was probably way too personal of a question. I shouldn't have asked. It's not my business."

"No, no. No, hey. It's…fine. Really. It's not, like, a secret or anything. I don't mind saying, and-and I get you asking. It's a normal thing for you to wonder. You're on a date with a single mom…where's the d—er, um, the biological father?" She didn't know why, but she just couldn't call that man Max's "dad". It felt gross coming off of her tongue.

"Be that as it may, you don't have to answer," he assured her, his hand out.

"No, I don't mind telling you. I appreciate it, though. I-I mean, your concern. I appreciate your concern. You made me dinner, you've earned an answer." She smiled teasingly again because it was an easy way to hide her vulnerability.

"Half of dinner, anyway," he drawled, giving her a crooked, closed-mouth smile that helped to settle her nerves somehow. And she didn't know why she wanted to hold his hand so badly suddenly, but she really, really did. Instead she pulled her hands further in towards herself and folded them together on top of the table.

"Long story short, I was dating a guy and a few months in, I found out I was pregnant. It's just what happens sometimes even when you think you're being as safe as possible. Life hands you a, um, reminder…that…safe isn't always…perfect. I guess." She was careful not to look at him, instead glancing to the side, playing with her fingers. "Uh, and it turns out he didn't want anything to do with me or the baby, and I did. I mean, I wanted to keep it, and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible, so I guess I just…let him do that." She cleared her throat. "So yeah. He's not…anywhere in the picture. At all."

"Oh." She finally stole a glance at him. He was staring down at his arms he had folded on the table, his brow furrowed. She could see his mind going a mile a minute. This guy really just let everything show on his face, didn't he? He seemed not to know what to say. And then he spoke up anyway. "Shit. That's—That's kind of cowardly." He cleared his throat then, looking like he regretted saying that. "Sorry. It just… I mean, technically, you didn't get pregnant on your own."

"No, I didn't. You're right."

"And he gets off the hook just…sending you a check every month? Like, not being around his own kid? Pfft. Weak."

Sarah squirmed this time. "Um, not exactly. He wanted out so I gave him an out. A full out. Carina drew up a whole legal document and everything, he signed it, and he can't come anywhere near me or that cute li'l kid. He's waived his paternal rights. All his rights. So…that means no check."

Chuck sat up a bit straighter at that, his eyebrows raising. "No… He doesn't send you money to help take care of his—erm, your son?" She didn't miss the way he'd caught himself there. There was something observant and thoughtful about it, and it was sweet too. "What the hell?"

She smirked wryly. "You don't have to be angry about it, though that's nice of you, Chuck."

"Sorry, I-I don't know the situation and I shouldn't assume."

"It's okay. There is no situation. And frankly, I'll take no check and not having him carelessly flitting in and out of Max's life…over getting a check and having to explain the whole drama to my son when he's old enough to actually start to question why his…paternal figure sends money but doesn't give enough of a shit to show up in person. It just sounds like one of those schmaltzy made for TV dramas from the late 'nineties, you know?" She made a grossed out face and shook her head.

He chuckled. "It does sound like a schmaltzy made for TV drama from the late 'nineties. Wow. Still, I'm…" Chuck sobered up a bit more. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry he couldn't take it, or, I guess, didn't have the guts to try even. And I'm sorry he doesn't even have the guts to provide for a human being who is…half his fault." She arched her brow. He twisted up his face and leaned forward a bit desperately. "Wait, I shouldn't have phrased it like that. I said 'fault' like Max is a bad thing. Obviously, he isn't. He's a good thing. Good…person…toddler. I need to just…shut up maybe."

"No, don't," she giggled, reaching over to curl her fingers around his wrist and squeeze reassuringly. She pulled away quicker this time and folded both of her hands in her lap. "Look, I-I don't need him. I think I knew I wasn't gonna need him all the way back when I told him I was pregnant and he recoiled in abject horror. You'd think I'd showed up as the Creature from the Black Lagoon." She rolled her eyes. "I just knew, I guess. And I don't need his money, either. I can take care of Max without a monthly check the law forces a guy I was only in a relationship with for a few months to send to me."

Chuck swallowed hard enough that she heard it. "Of course you don't need it. Not the woman who bought me drinks last week, and the one who bought my dinner tonight." His face smoothed out into what she could only really describe as a miniature smolder. She just blinked at him and the smolder fell away into a wince. "Sorry, I-I was trying to…make you laugh. At the very least, I was hoping you'd smile."

He cleared his throat, and she did laugh. At the very least, it was a chuckle…not merely a smile. And he smiled back. "Theeeere it iiiiis." She laughed harder, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. "Sorry, I'm an idiot," he drawled, shaking his head at himself, a self-deprecating smile on his face.

"You're not an idiot," she said quickly, and she propped her chin in her palm again, her elbow on the tabletop. "But you are kind of a goof." She shrugged one shoulder. "I'm okay with that."

"Oh," he laughed, sitting back against his chair. "I'm a goof, but thankfully you're okay with it. Great. A ringing endorsement if I've ever heard one."

She laughed with him, shaking her head. "Shut up. You know I mean it as a compliment. It's nice for a change."

"Glad I can be the goofy alternative to the debonair, dashing, charming, handsome non-goofs you usually go out with," he continued teasing and she reared her hand back like she was gonna swat him, making him flinch back and crack up.

"Stop doing that," she chastised, smirking. "The kicker is that you are all of those things, Chuck. And, again, you made me a meal. With your own hands. On just the second date." She made an impressed face and then winked.

"Are you…flirting?"

"If you have to ask…"

He winced. "Touché."

"No, I-I meant, if you have to ask, I'm probably not doing a very good job," she giggled.

"Well, I think you're doing great, but feel free to keep trying. Practice makes perfect and all that." He propped both elbows on the table and framed his face with his hands, propping his chin in both palms and smiling adorably.

Sarah laughed. "That was cute."

He snagged his shake and slurped it dramatically through the curly straw, adding to the effect and making her snort. He, in turn, beamed at her, his teeth clamped around the straw. He set the drink down then, sobering up a little. "Well, I hope I'm not…um, speaking out of turn, but even though it's ended up being for the best that, um, that guy isn't in your lives, I'd like it to be put on record that I still think he's a complete louse."

"You know what?" she asked, tilting her head, her chest feeling warm at his words.

"What?"

"I agree with you. He is. Which is exactly why I don't want him around my son."

"And from where I'm sitting, that makes you a pretty great mom." At first his words just felt good, they warmed her heart, but then she thought she heard something in his tone, saw something in the soft brown of his eyes, in lips pressed into a thin line… melancholy.

What was that about, she wondered?

But she didn't want to intrude, so she just picked up her shake and lightly clinked it against his, smiling at him and taking a sip.

}o{

"Okay this isn't fair!" she blurted over the music he'd put on in the background.

"How isn't it fair? This is a bigger number than that one!" He pulled both his and her card over into his ever-increasing pile.

"Because! You keep getting the winning card and I'm not convinced that crazy smart brain that made that GreyWolf thing can't also, like…count cards or something. You're smart enough to cheat at this, don't deny it." She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion.

"At War?!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Why would I cheat at War?!"

"You want to impress me, obviously."

He left a long pause there. Then: "Does it impress you when guys beat you at card games?"

Maybe he actually wanted to know that.

"No, it pisses me off. Which is why I'm warning you."

"Oh," he chuckled. "So…if I were cheating, which I'm not," he ensured her, because he actually wasn't, "You're saying I should cheat in the direction that means you end up winning. Did I get that straight?"

"Ye—Wait, no!" She barely caught it, pointing at him with a glare and breaking into laughter. "You almost got me."

"I almost got you."

"You better not let me win out of pity. If I win and I find out it's because you pity-cheated to help me win, I'll smack you so hard."

He widened his eyes and pulled back. "Yikes. Okay. Please don't. I'm not certain you wouldn't knock me the hell out."

She cracked up, looking down at him.

He'd insisted on her taking the couch and he'd crawled down onto the floor on the other side of the coffee table to face her full-on, smacking his new deck of DC superhero cards down between them.

She'd given him a look at first, but then, to her absolute credit, she'd grabbed the deck and shuffled, an incredibly hot arch to one of her eyebrows. She'd shuffled the deck like a damn pro, and then she'd clipped out a, "So what are we playing, nerd?"

Sarah Walker truly was the hottest and coolest person he'd ever met in his life.

And then he'd promptly beaten her at War twice in a row.

He was now close to a third win, this time in something of a landslide.

"You know, I have half a mind to call my contacts at the LAPD and have you arrested for being a Cheaty McCheater," she said.

His jaw dropped. "Wow, okay. Well, joke's on you, private eye. There's nothin' illegal about whooping someone at cards."

This time her jaw dropped, and she lunged forward to flatten her palm against his forehead and give him a shove that sent him rolling onto his back, cracking up. "For someone who isn't cheating, you're sure cheeky!"

"Unless…?" She gave him a look, apparently spotting the lightbulb going off over his messy dark brown curls. "It might be a little less legal if we place bets. Gambling outside of a casino? Uh oooooh."

"Wow. Wowww, Chuck. Okay. You're really trying to get arrested now, aren't you?"

"You can't arrest me. You have to call your LAPD friends."

"I can do it in a pinch."

He tilted his head and made a face. "I'd be into it."

Sarah rocked forward with a laugh and he grinned at how nice a sound it was. "Is that…flirting?"

"Ahh, I see what you did there. But just in case you actually do need an answer, yes. Yes, that was flirting." She seemed not to expect him to respond in that way, and she twisted her lips to the side, pursing them, her blue eyes dropping to the deck of cards between them. "Is, um, is that okay?" he asked then, quietly.

She lifted her eyes and stared into his for a few long seconds, and a slow smile grew on her lips. "Mhm. Yeah."

He honestly couldn't help the dreamy gaze on his face as he looked up at her, and then she shook herself a bit and clapped her hands together once, almost making him jump it was so sudden. "So what are the bets? What are you betting?"

"Oh, really? That's what we're doing? Okay…"

"Make your damn bet, goof."

"Hey! Hey, now. Whoa. I'm thinkin'." And just like that, the idea popped into his head. "Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "Got it. I'm an I.T. guy, right?" She nodded, her brow furrowed in question. "Anything you need me to fix that's electronic, I'll fix it, free of charge. Your very own specialist showing up at your door."

She raised her eyebrows. "You weren't already gonna do that?"

His jaw dropped again and she snickered evilly. "Wow. Give her an inch…"

"Yeah, you should've thought about that before you showed up at my agency the next day, free of charge, to give me that lesson on how to keep my laptop clean from hacking assholes." She shrugged innocently. "I just assumed that's gonna be the norm going forward."

He chuckled at her teasing. "Honestly, it was gonna be the norm going forward but I couldn't think of anything else I could give you that would actually make this a good bet. I've, uh, not got much else to offer." He gathered up the cards and started shuffling them, missing the flat look that got him. "Anything you can think of?"

"I'm just teasing about expecting your tech help for free," she giggled. "That's a good bet. Very valuable. And I'll take it. If I win, you owe me a free Buy More area tech specialist guy visit."

Chuck decided not to tell her that in spite of knowing she was just teasing him, he wasn't going to be charging her for anything he helped her with from now on. He just smiled and nodded. "Deal. And if I win?"

She slowly raised her eyes to his. "I'd say a free consultation with my P.I. agency, but I can't see any reason why you would need that. You seem like a pretty upstanding guy. No trouble with the law…"

"Not that you know of." She froze. "I'm joking," he laughed, and she laughed with him. "I might have an idea, and you're perfectly free to shut me down." Sarah gave him an intrigued look. "A ride along." The intrigue fell to confusion. "I mean, getting to sit in your passenger seat when you go out on a case to tail people or investigate. Like what cops do with kids who are doing a school report."

There was a long pause and Sarah burst into laughter. "You really think that'd be at all fun for you? Just sitting there in my car while I'm on a stakeout? You realize nothing that exciting happens in my job, right? I take pictures, I find evidence, it's a lot of reading and waiting and writing up reports and then passing it on to cops and lawyers. I made the decision to leave the police force and open my agency for that reason, because it's a little safer and I have a son to take care of now."

That's right, she did. And it wasn't that he'd forgotten about Max; it was just that he'd…misplaced him in his brain for a bit. He silently chastised himself for it and continued on like nothing extra had happened inside of his head right there.

"I know you probably think I'm a dweeb and totally overreacting, but when I say my insides exploded at finding out that I'd walked into a private investigative agency that day, I mean like….balls of light just beaming inside of me. Literally." She giggled, her eyes bright as she propped her elbows on her knees and laid her chin in her palms. "And yeah, my working understanding of a private eye is based off of television and movies, most of them from the 'seventies and before, but still! Yes! I think it'd be so much fun!"

She shook her head. "Okay, fine. One day. A…what'd you call it? A ride along?"

Chuck blinked, crawling up onto his knees in excitement and bracing his palms on the coffee table. "Wait, seriously? You're agreeing to it? I didn't think you'd agree to it."

"Maybe I'm just really confident that I'm gonna win."

She was absolutely flirting and he was positive his life couldn't get much better than it was right at that moment. He grinned dreamily. "You might just. Or I might, 'cause, you know, there's precedent there." He laughed as she mimed a punch, even as her angry face broke into a chuckle. "Okay, okay. Okay, look. Honestly? Honestly, I'll be honest, I think that we could literally just be sitting in your car waiting for some potential witness to walk out of his office for, like, an entire day, and I'd still have a blast, because…because I'd be sitting there with you and I think you're pretty fantastic. So, no matter what, I'm gonna come out a winner in that situation. A stakeout with Sarah Walker? Yes, please."

Chuck spotted a blush on her cheeks as she diverted her gaze, twisting her lips to the side again.

"Well, that got me," she admitted quietly. "It's a deal." And Chuck found himself getting a little lost in the look she was giving him, because she had to eventually lean in, raising her eyebrows. "So we playin' or what?"

"Yes!" he blurted, chuckling at himself self-deprecatingly and gathering up the cards. "Yep. Um, I'm gonna go ahead and…get the game started."

He heard her giggle at him and he refused to look at her.

"You better not be cheating," she warned as he dealt the cards a few moments later, and he sent her a salty look that made her laugh.

"What do you think, I have some kind of cardshark side hustle going on?"

"Yes. Actually, I do. I'm a P.I., you know?"

"Oh, I know," he said immediately, unable to temper the tone in his voice. He knew exactly how that had sounded. As if he thought it was incredibly hot. And he did. But he didn't necessarily mean for her to hear that in his tone. He cleared his throat and kept talking quickly, not looking at her as he continued to deal. "Are you saying you're gonna launch an investigation on my side hustle?"

"If you get in my way? Absolutely."

Okay, but that was extremely hot. He just managed to keep it off of his face, finishing up the deck and grabbing his pile, straightening it out. "Okay. Cards are dealt." He cleared his throat. "You ready to have little ol' me in your passenger seat for a ride along, Private Eye?" He beamed at her.

"Sure, only if you cheat."

"Oh, come on!" he laughed.

They began to play, then, the game getting competitive—more competitive than the others had been. They taunted one another across the table as they played, and she even yelled and laughed, swatting at his hand when he went to pull the cards to his pile even though she'd gotten the higher card.

"You're such a cheat!"

"I wasn't paying attention and I just got so used to winning!" he defended, laughing and falling back to the floor to narrowly miss being pinched on the arm as she lunged forward to try to get him.

"So what does one wear on a private eye investigation, anyway? Like, do I need to invest in a trench coat? A cool hat? Cigars? Nah, strike that. Cigars are nasty."

Sarah laughed, slapping down her next card and barking out a, "HA!" when she won, scraping their cards over into her pile. "Please don't do any of those things. The point is to look inconspicuous if you're tailing someone, if you're looking for clues and evidence, if you're investigating. You can't look like…freaking Inspector Gadget, okay?"

"What? No Inspector Gadget? Duh nuh nuhnuh nuh In-spec-tor Gaaadget. Duh nuh nuhnuh nuh dundunnnn… Oooo hoooo!" he sang, earning another laugh.

"You're such a weirdo."

"Aw, come on, that was a jam. No on that? Really?"

"Nope! Nuh uh."

He blew a raspberry and then made a face at her. "No fair. My buddy's got a jacket that's very Starsky & Hutch. How ab—"

"No!" she exclaimed, cracking up.

"Damn. Just as well, I guess. Morgan's a lot shorter than me, has little arms. I'd probably look extra ridiculous."

"A-ha!" She pointed at him. "So you admit it's ridiculous in the first place."

He wrinkled his nose. "You got me. Ah… But I've got you." He pointed to the card he just put down that beat hers, pulling the cards back towards him.

Sarah Walker, private eye, stuck her tongue out.

"Sticking your tongue out at me? Wow. What's next? You gonna call me a butthead?" She laughed, tipping to the side and barely catching herself by planting her elbow on the couch cushion. "I know you are but what am I..?"

They finally both held one last card in their hands, and this time it wasn't nearly as easy to determine who would be the winner of the game. He had a lot riding on this. Not really, but it made it a lot more fun to think that.

"Moment of truth?" she asked dramatically, lifting her card up in front of her face and holding it rigidly at her nose.

"Who. Will. Win?" he announced in his best version of the trailer narrator voice. "How do you want to do this? I mean, do you want to lose a little more softly? Or do you want it swift and painful?"

"You're going to feel like crap when I win," she warned.

"Humbug. I'm counting to three. We put our respective cards down. And then…we shall see." He raised an eyebrow and wiggled his card. It was ten, which wasn't too shabby at all.

"So? You counting or what? It's best to just tear the bandaid off, bud. Get it over with."

Chuckling, he raised his left hand and began counting on his fingers. "One…two…three!"

They put their cards down.

"Oh ho! Winner!"

She'd put down a Queen of hearts. And she greedily pulled the cards back with an evil snicker.

They counted their cards and she made him announce his first, and then she whooped and leapt up to her feet, dancing a shimmying dance that cracked him up. "I won! I won this game! I won the bet! No ride along for you, buddy boy!"

Chuck groaned, unable to keep his character even as he tipped back and lay on the floor, defeated, unmoving. "I've been vanquished."

"That's right, you have." She leaned down and slammed her palms against the coffee table, hovering over him as he peeked up at her. "So how's it feel to lose?"

"I mean, you'd know. You lost the other three games."

"Oh, really?"

He sat up so that they were nearly face to face, noses a mere inch or two away. "Really…"

Sarah arched an eyebrow and he felt something different from the warmth he'd been feeling around her all night. Something deeper…lower. Something that made his blood hot. "Really," she pronounced slowly. "Something you should know about me, Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd Regional Specialist. I always win when I have to."

He bit his bottom lip and groaned quietly. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but that's extremely hot."

She smirked and he thought there was a chance she blushed for half a second. "You're the strangest man I've ever met."

"Thank you!"

Giggling, she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Then he nimbly pushed himself up to his haunches, before standing to his full height. "Okay, you won the bet, fair and square. What am I fixing?"

"What, now? All I have here with me is my phone." She glared then. "And anyway, there's no way I'm letting you combine the bet with this date. Nope. We're doing this right. When I find whatever it is you're gonna fix, I'll definitely let you know."

There was that flirtation again as she leaned back against the couch comfortably, slumping a little, and peering up at him smugly.

Chuck stepped over the coffee table with his long legs and fell back into the couch with a thump, grunting as he landed next to her, making her chuckle. "Okay, fine. We're agreed. But don't think I'm getting rid of this ride along idea."

"Oh, no. Of course I'd never think you'd forget about that," she teased. "We'll see if it happens."

"Heeeey!" he giggled, pointing finger guns at her. "'We'll see' is way better than a no!"

She laughed, tilting her head back and grinning at the ceiling. "You're hard to say no to. You only met Max once and that wasn't nearly enough time to learn that particular talent from him," she said drily, letting her head loll to the side to look at him through her eyelashes.

He slumped against the back of the couch to mimic her position and rolled his own head closer, so that their faces were only inches apart, and he smiled. "You're the only person who's ever struggled with saying no to me, so trust me, it isn't a talent I possess."

"It isn't? Then how do you explain this?" she asked, gesturing between them.

"Pure dumb luck. It strikes every so often and for once, I'm the one it struck. Ta daaaa." He gave her a cheesy grin and wiggled his spirit fingers.

"Shut up," she groused, rolling her eyes and snorting. "It's because you're cute as hell and that has nothing to do with luck. It's just…you."

He raised his eyebrows and sunk even lower against his couch, propping his feet on the coffee table, his knees sticking way up in front of him. "Well, I don't have a comeback for that."

"Finally," she huffed, and then rolled towards him, bracing her palm on the couch on the other side of his body so that she hovered over him, and she leaned down to press her lips against his.

Chuck hadn't been prepared for it at all and he froze under her, his eyes snapping wide. She pulled back again before he could respond the way he meant to, blinking her eyes open and just quietly peering down at him with eyes swirling with grey and blue. He swallowed hard.

And as she tentatively moved away from him, he lunged up towards her, framing her face with his hands gently, and covering her mouth with his. She gasped with a surprised hum, and then he felt her lips stretch into a smile against his, and her arms wound around his shoulders, tugging him in close.

He didn't know how long they stayed that way, with their shoulders pressed against the couch back, but he didn't break for air even once. He felt his body awakening, his fingers and toes tingling in a way they hadn't in a while.

And then Sarah slipped her hands down his arms, squeezing his biceps on the way down, before she ran them back up again. Until she pressed them against his chest.

Just like that, Chuck was lying back on the armrest with Sarah pushing, tipping over with him until her chest was flush against his. The armrest pressed uncomfortably into the middle of his back, his shoulders and head hanging over the edge, but he didn't care, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her in even tighter, cradling her like his life depended on it.

Sarah Walker, private eye, made a soft sound then, almost like a whimper, and she shifted her body up his, every last inch of her dragging against every inch of him, and he felt something in him come perilously close to snapping…

When there was a loud ringing sound.

Their lips came apart with a smack and she let out a rough breath against his lips. "I-I have to—Could be about Max…"

Oh. Of course. Her phone was ringing, she was a mother away from her son, and maybe he needed her for some reason.

But his body hadn't quite caught up with his brain, so he kept his arms clamped around her even as he nodded with a panting, "Of course. Yes. You-You have to get that. Totally."

She smirked, looking down between them as she tried to push up from where she lie draped over him. "Chuck…?"

Chuck let go of her, blushing. "S-Sorry."

"It's okay," she giggled as he helped her up off of the couch. She fixed her hair a bit even as she clambered up to her feet, already scanning the room for her phone, but then she halted, turned back to him, and stooped down low to kiss him on the lips with a quick, warm peck, before she stood up again, sending him a smile over her shoulder as she dashed around the couch to grab her phone.

He heard her answer with a "Hey, Dad! Everything okay?" Chuck sat up, a little concerned as he watched her, the phone against her ear, her back to him. And he tried to control his racing heart and the other places in his body that felt like he had a heart beating in each one. She lowered her voice. "No, I'm good. I'm good, just…lazing around. You know. Enjoying this bit of me time."

Technically she was kind of lazing around, but she was lazing around here, in his apartment. And did it count as "me time" if you were with another person? He had no choice but to come to the conclusion that her parents who were currently babysitting Max didn't know she was at his apartment, and maybe didn't even know about him at all. He wasn't offended by it in the slightest. He had no right to make assumptions about the why of it, but he was definitely interested.

Then he heard her sigh. "I'm sorry he's giving you a hard time. It's because you and mom get him all riled up." She giggled. And then she turned and noticed Chuck was watching. It was too late for him to hit the deck, hide behind the couch, and pretend he hadn't been. So he just smiled at her.

She smiled back, and then she blushed, her eyes going a little wide. "Uh, y-yeah. Put him on." Shutting her eyes, she sighed again, and then she slowly made her way back to the couch, plopping down onto it as Chuck moved his feet, folding them under his body as he sat cross-legged. "Hi, Max. Sweetie, why aren't you going to bed? You know how late it is? It's past your bedtime!" She rolled her eyes at Chuck and he grinned.

He liked that kid. He seemed very cute and well-behaved for the most part, but apparently there was a stubborn rebellious streak, too. Maybe he had a spine of steel the way Chuck was pretty sure his mom had, and he was slowly growing into it.

"But if Grandma and Grandpa are telling you it's time for you to go to sleep, Max, it's time for you to go to sleep." She paused, and then she beamed, letting out a one-note giggle. "Sweetie, I love this story you're telling. I'm glad you found a troll's house in the backyard." Chuck's shoulders bounced in a silent chuckle. "You can tell me all about it tomorrow when I come to pick you up, but right now, it's bedtime."

Chuck heard a small voice on the other end of the line rambling something he couldn't make out.

"Wait, there was a what in the troll's house? Oh! A raccoon! What was it doing in there?" Her face went blank and then she cracked up. "Oh, of course it was stealing. I know! I know, it wears a robber's mask."

Chuck let out a quiet groan and covered his face, laughing quietly.

"Okay, okay. Fine. Okay, I'll sing. But just…just for a second. Then I need you to go to sleep. Deal?" Chuck peeked at her profile as she purposely seemed to turn away from him a bit, looking uneasy and even a bit embarrassed. Actually, she looked very embarrassed. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered under her breath, casting a furtive look in Chuck's direction.

He decided to tease her, propping his elbow on his leg and resting his chin in his palm, looking at her with a very interested gaze. She glared. He gestured with his other hand as if to say Go right ahead.

She glared harder, but there was a sparkle of amusement in her blue eyes, too.

"Okay, bud. The song about the ants. You got it. But I'm not going all the way to ten." She sighed. "The ants go marching one by one. Hurrah. Hurrah. The ants go marching one by one. Hurrah. Hurrah. The ants go maaa-aarching one by one, the little one stops to suck his thumb, and they all go marching down…to the ground…to get out…of the rain…"

Chuck grumbled so only Sarah could hear, "They munch, munch, munch, munch, your lunch, lunch, lunch, lunch…" making her giggle as she started the second verse, her eyes bright as she turned them in his direction.

"Max, d'you remember what the little one does this time?" she asked when she got to that part in third verse. "That's it," she said, grinning. "She climbs a tree! And they all go marching down…to the ground…to get out…of the rain…"

"They munch, munch, munch, munch, your lunch, lunch, lunch, lunch," Chuck mumbled again.

She finally ended it at the third verse, letting out a "Yaaay!" She waited while he said something loudly, and Chuck could hear his little voice even if he couldn't make out what he was saying. "Are Grandma and Grandpa clapping for you too? I hear them! Good. You did a good job, Max. Will you go to bed now and fall asleep? Please? Promise?" She smiled warmly, the blush she had throughout the whole song still on her face. "Good. Thank you. I love you, okay? Can I have a phone kiss?" She giggled and smacked a kiss back at him. "Okay, goodnight, buddy."

Sarah hung up and she was silent for a few long seconds, turning her cellphone over a few times in her hands, looking close to mortified. And then she slowly, tentatively lifted her gaze to his, wincing.

He was going for it, come what may.

"You know, you have a lovely singing voice."

The private eye barked out a laugh and reached over to the coffee table to snag the stack of cards, throwing them right at his face as he cackled.


A/N: They munch, munch, munch, munch your lunch, lunch, lunch, lunch...

Thanks for reading! Please review if you're so inclined. :)

-SC