A/N: I offered up this story idea as a joke to David Carner, trying to come up with absurd, off the wall story ideas. As a complete farce, I actually started to write some of it. That backfired big time. So here is the story that wasn't supposed to be. (Completely un-beta'd, so be gentle)
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck
Chuck absentmindedly wiped the counter of the concession stand as he watched the athletes warming up before tonight's game. The concession stand, located at the upper level, was like a box seat looking down over the stands and arena floor below. It was a great view, especially before all the fans arrived.
"Hey, Buddy! We all set for tonight?" Morgan asked as he walked into the concession stand, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. Chuck blinked, shaking his head, pulling his attention from the athletes to his short bearded friend.
"Oh, yeah. Yep. All set. Skip and Fernando should be here any minute, but I've got everything ready," Chuck assured him. Morgan blew out a long breath, nodding his head.
"That's… that's great man. Really, I can't thank you enough for doing this for me," the shorter man confessed with a look of pure gratitude. "I know you're swamped with work, but volunteering to run concessions for me… you're a lifesaver. Big Mike gave me this opportunity to manage the Burbank Brawlers, and I'm not gonna lie, it's been a struggle. I'm not a born leader like you are. People don't always respond well to the beard. It's shocking, I know, but it's true."
"Morgan, I don't think it's so much the beard as it is the words that come out of it that tend to rub people the wrong way. A word of advice?" Chuck asked, waiting for his friend to agree. The bearded one nodded, looking a bit apprehensive.
"You're trying too hard. I think you have it in you to be a good manager, you just need to have the confidence in yourself. Also, don't touch the athletes. The bruise on your eye has finally faded from the last time you tried to smack one of them on the ass before a game. Don't do that, like, ever. I might not be there next time to cut the padlock off of the locker they stuff you in."
Morgan's eyes grew wide as he recalled the event. Nodding his head in understanding, he pointed at Chuck. "That-that's a good point. In hindsight, I see how that was wrong. I just… I get flustered when I talk to them. I try to inspire them, you know? Give them encouragement, motivation, but if I'm honest," he paused looking around and over the concession counter, "they scare the shit outta me," he whispered conspiratorially. "Especially the coaches and the team captains. Have you seen them?" Morgan asked, his voice jumping two octaves.
Indeed, Chuck had seen them. In fact, before Morgan had interrupted him, that was exactly what he was doing; watching them warm-up. The arena floor was empty now, all the athletes and coaches likely in the locker room getting geared up for the game. "I get it, Buddy. They're intimidating, but the thing you need to keep in mind is why they're doing this. Sure, for some it's the extra money, but for a lot of them it's for the fun of the sport, the adrenaline or just a chance to work out some aggression. When you start pushing them, trying to make it about winning or ticket sales, it stops being fun for them. They'll resent you for it and you'll lose them."
"I hear ya, man. I hear ya. I know you're right. It's just… Big Mike. He's put his faith in me. He's counting on me to make this work and I don't want to let him down. If we can't get ticket sales up or get them to buy more concessions, we're gonna be in the red. If that happens, he might close the place down, and nobody wants that." Morgan threw his hands in the air and blew out a breath, clearly worried and frustrated.
"I guarantee, if you show the team that you're in their corner, that you respect them and that you have their back, they'll do that same for you. That means you need to keep the touching and the locker room talk to a minimum, and by minimum I mean just don't. Trust me. Otherwise you're gonna find yourself stuffed in something far less pleasant than a locker." Chuck heard Morgan gulp as his face turned a bit pale. "Morgan, don't try to impress them. Just be yourself. You're an incredible person and an amazing friend. Just be that guy. You got this."
Chuck held out his fist and after a moment, the shorter man punched it, the two making an exploding gesture. "Thanks Chuck. I needed that. I better get down there and talk to the team before-"
"Hey, whoa!" Chuck interrupted, holding out his hands. "Don't…. Don't go into the locker room. Wait until they come out, OK?"
"Oh! Yeah. No… that's good advice. Thanks man," Morgan nodded, patting Chuck on the shoulder as he turned to leave. Before he got to the door he stopped and spun to face Chuck again. "OH! Be sure to push the nachos and cheese. We've got a good markup on those. Plus… I ordered way too many cans of the cheese sauce. Who knew they were so big?" Morgan shrugged in frustration.
"Yeaaaah. Those are like … 106oz cans, Morg. Gotta check the details when you order next time. Don't worry, at least they keep for a long time," Chuck said, trying to sound reassuring to his friend. Once Morgan left, Chuck chuckled to himself, shaking his head.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The action in the arena was heated, so the concession stand was fairly quiet. That gave Chuck a chance to watch the action. The team coaches were yelling commands at their respective teams, which were drowned out by the cheer of the crowd and the grunts and growls of the athletes. The Brawlers coach, a tall, broad, imposing man named Casey, with a permanent scowl on his face, was accompanied by a temporary assistant coach, a severe looking woman with long, dark hair named Rizzo, at least according to the name embossed on the back of her shirt. She was actually a team member, but was apparently sidelined by a recent broken arm. While she was out of commission, she stood in as an assistant coach for her team.
The drum of the skates on the banked track, the shouts and grunts of the players, even the 'boos' and cheers of the fans seemed to slip away as Chuck focused on one player in particular. Number 832, The "Ice Queen"; at least that was the name on the back of her jersey. Chuck had never spoken to her - or any of the Brawlers for that matter- but he had overheard someone call her 'Sarah' during warmups. There was something about her that intrigued him. The uniforms and padding weren't exactly flattering, but she was a tall, athletic blonde with a penchant for winning. She was a dominating force on the track, and as such, was a popular target for the opposing team. Chuck watched her both take a beating and dish one out in kind, never stopping, never faltering. She was a woman on a mission.
It was just into the second period and the Brawlers were up by three points over the Sirens. It was hard to make out what was going on sometimes, with the tangle of players battling on the track, but when they rounded curve nearest him, he watched, almost in slow motion, as number 832 fell to the ground, a number of fellow players going down with her. He swore he could hear a crack, despite the cacophony of other noises which was quickly followed by a primal growl. As the clump of people began to separate, a number of people were still huddled around one person laying on the ground, rolling in pain. Sarah.
Before he realized it, Chuck had grabbed the first aid kit from under the counter and vaulted over the concession stand counter, making a beeline for the arena floor. Pushing his way through the crowd of onlookers, hopped over the railing and slid to a halt on the floor beside Sarah and her team mates. She was hissing through gritted teeth as she held her ankle, rocking in place.
"Alright! Give her some room," bellowed Casey as he kneeled down beside her. Giving Chuck a look somewhere between anger and disdain, he let out a growl. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
Ordinarily, Chuck would have buckled under his intense stare, but Chuck was too focused on the injured player to dwell on it. "I'm a certified first responder. While I'm not an EMT or anything, I do have training," he replied, not looking at the man staring down at him. Chuck gingerly placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder and another on her knee, trying to steady her.
"I'm Chuck," he spoke in a soothing voice; a sharp contrast to the chaos going on around them. "I know it hurts but I'm going to try to help. Is that alright?" he asked. Her eyes darted to him, holding his gaze for a moment before biting her bottom lip and nodding her agreement. "OK. Can you tell me exactly where it hurts?"
"Ankle. Ankle," she grunted, hissing in pain. Chuck kneeled down further, trying to get a better look. Unfortunately, he couldn't see much of her ankle as it was inside her skate, but he could see swelling starting to show around the top of her skate's boot.
"OK. I need to take your skate off to see what we're dealing with. That, and it will help to alleviate the weight of the skate pulling on your ankle." She nodded sharply as she watched him work. Chuck motioned for one of her team mates to come closer. "I'm going to try and immobilize her ankle but I need you to unlace her skate and take it off. You have a lot more experience with it so you can do it a lot more efficiently." Wordlessly the woman nodded and began the painstaking process of unlacing the skate and sliding it off so as not to cause any more pain.
"Sarah? Is that your name?" he asked, looking up at her while he tried to hold her skate and leg to alleviate the pressure as best he could while his helper worked. She nodded mutely as she watched their progress. "You seemed to be making a lot of friends out there tonight." Sarah couldn't help but chuckle, despite the pain. "You're doing great. We'll have this off soon."
"Hey, Chuck!" came the panicked voice of his friend Morgan from behind him. "What can I do man? Is she gonna be OK?"
"She's a kickass warrior, Morg. She'll be fine. We're gonna need to get her to the hospital though. Go grab my keys from the concession stand and bring my car around. Ellie's working tonight, so I'll give her a call to let her know we're coming." Morgan patted Chuck on the back and took off in a run without another word. Frankly, Chuck was a little surprised. Morgan was not usually one to keep a level head in a crisis, but maybe this new job was good for him.
Chuck could just make out the growls and commands of Casey, keeping onlookers at bay. At Sarah's other side was Rizzo, gripping Sarah's hand. Glancing around he could see the worry of her teammates etched on their faces as they looked on helplessly. Finally, the laces were undone and the red-haired woman holding the skate made a wince.
"Sorry, Blondie. This is gonna hurt." With that she carefully slid the skate off while Chuck supported her leg and ankle. Sarah made a strangle groan, and once the skate was off, she blew out the breath she was holding.
"Nice work," Chuck commended, addressing the woman with the skate and then Sarah. "Sarah, you're doing great. It's not saying much, but I probably would have passed out by now if I were in your place," he confessed, chuckling at himself. It seemed to set her at ease, chuckling along with him. He gingerly felt around the ankle, doing his best to not cause her any additional pain. "The good news is, I don't see any bleeding, but I want to move your sock to see if there is any major bruising." She nodded as she watched him slide her sock down. The ankle was really swollen and beginning to bruise, but nothing indicating that there was a compound fracture. Sighing in relief, he just as carefully slid the sock back up.
Opening the first aid kit, Chuck took out a cold pack, breaking up the contents to activate the chemicals. "Does anyone have an ace bandage or-" he was quickly cut off as Casey handed him a roll before he could even get the words out of his mouth. "Oh. Right. Th-thanks," he said with a sheepish grin. Placing the cold pack on her ankle, he wrapped it with the cloth bandage to hold it in place. While he worked, his helper "Red Sonya", pulled the other skate off of Sarah.
Her teammates had the forethought to grab Sarah's things from her locker, namely her clothes, purse and shoes. Red put a shoe on Sarah's good foot, placing the other in her backpack.
"Do you think you can stand and hobble out of here with our help, or would you rather I carry you?" Chucked asked, kneeling close to her shoulder now. She looked up at him for a moment before blinking and clearing her throat.
"I… I can walk. Err, well, hobble," she replied, her voice hoarse. With the help of her team and coaches, Sarah stood, balancing on one foot. With Casey on one side, and Chuck on the other, they helped Sarah outside with Rizzo close behind with Sarah's things. Parked outside the front doors was Chuck's economy sedan, Morgan holding the back door open.
Once Sarah was carefully laid in the backseat, Rizzo had offered to go with them, but Sarah waved her off, telling her to go be with the team. Sarah promised to call her later with an update. Reluctantly Rizzo relented, closing the back door. Before Chuck could even fasten his seat belt, Casey was at the driver's side door.
"Anything happens to her," he growled, his steely gaze boring a hole through Chuck. Chuck gulped, but before he could respond, Sarah hollered from the back seat.
"Casey, will you leave him alone. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself," she scolded, letting out a huff of frustration. Chuck thumbed toward the backseat, as if to echo her sentiment.
"Even with a bad ankle, I'm sure she could kick my ass. I'll make sure she's looked after. I promise," he stated, holding up his hand as a pledge. Merely grunting, the large man stepped back and patted the top of the car, gesturing for them to go. Without haste, Chuck took off for the hospital. While in route, Chuck pressed a button on his steering wheel, causing the sound system in the car to beep.
"Call Ellie, Cell," Chuck spoke. Within seconds the ringing tone sounded before a woman answered.
"Chuck, I'm at work. Can this wait until later?" she asked, sounding distracted.
"No. In fact, this is work related. I've got a woman with what could be a broken ankle. I know it's first come, first serve and all that, but if things aren't too busy, do you think you could make some room to see her in a hurry? As a favor to me?" he asked, almost pleading.
"You said a woman? What women do you know? Did you trip over someone at the grocery store again? When are you going to learn to watch those big feet of yours?" Chuck could hear a snort from the backseat as his sister berated him for something he didn't do.
"El, it wasn't me. It happened at work. Well, Morgan's work. Look, it's a long story and you happen to be on speaker in the car, so… thanks for that. Anyway, can you make room to see her? Please?"
"Alright. Alright. How far out are you? I can have an orderly meet you outside the ER doors with a wheelchair."
"Ummm, like… seven or eight minutes maybe?" Chuck estimated, looking at the clock and the traffic ahead. "Thanks El. I owe you … again."
"Yeah, well. I'll put it on your tab," she teased. "See you soon." With that the call ended and the car fell silent aside from the rev of the engine as he sped through town.
"You don't have to race. I'm not dying or anything," Sarah called from the back seat, trying to steady herself.
"Well, the longer I take, the longer you're in pain so…" he trailed off shrugging. For another long moment the car fell silent before Sarah spoke again.
"Thanks for your help back there. You reacted pretty quickly."
"Pfft," Chuck spat, waving the compliment off. "I'm sure there were plenty of people there that would have done the same thing."
"Hmmm. I dunno. Maybe. Though, I doubt they'd have the same track-side manner," she confessed, chuckling softly. Chuck let out a chuckle as well, not sure how to respond to that. Before silence grew too awkward, Chuck pulled into the patient parking area of the emergency room. Leaping out of the car, he waved the orderly over and threw open the back door.
With the three of them working together they got Sarah inside. When they approached the front desk, the short woman behind it waved them on. "Hey Chuck. Ellie's waiting in exam 3. Go on back. I'll bring the paperwork to you." Sarah looked between Chuck and the woman, surprised that he was so familiar here. Chuck waved, expressing his thanks, as he followed close beside her wheelchair. Sarah looked up at him, but he was focused on the walk, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. While she was certainly concerned about the extent of her own injury, she was surprised to see how worried this complete stranger was.
A woman was waiting outside the exam room, her long dark brown hair spilling over the shoulders of her white doctor's coat. Waving on, she gave both Sarah and Chuck a warm smile. "Hi guys. Come on it. Let's get you up on the table so I can take a look," she instructed, lending a hand to help Sarah from the wheelchair to the exam table.
"I'm Dr. Bartowski, but you can call me Ellie. And you are?" Ellie asked as a nurse handed her a chart.
"Sarah. Sarah Walker," she replied, wincing slightly as she shifted to try and make herself comfortable. Chuck couldn't help but flinch, moving on impulse to help her, but realizing there wasn't anything to do. Ellie eyed her brother curiously, turning her gaze back to her patient.
"OK, Sarah. Can you tell me what happened?" Ellie immediately held her finger up, forestalling her brother before he could interject. "I'd like her to tell me. You can sit down in the chair, or better yet, you can go out in the waiting room." Chuck felt crestfallen, deflating slightly as he nodded. As he turned to leave, he was surprised by the voice behind him.
"Actually, could he stay? If-if it's alright?" Sarah asked, looking between the doctor and the now surprised Chuck. Ellie's lips twisted to the side as she looked at her brother, fighting her smile.
"If that's what you want. Ordinarily, we limit visitors in here to family, significant others and the like, but I suspect he'll stay out of trouble… and quiet!" Ellie teased, smirking at Chuck. Chuck looked at Sarah and apprehensively pointed at the chair beside the bed, as if in question. She nodded with a tight smile, letting out a small sigh as he sat.
Ellie began to unwrap her ankle as Sarah related the events that caused her injury. "It was all a blur, but there was a big pile up, and I got knocked to the ground at the same time someone fell on my ankle. I think I heard it crack, but I can't be sure. There was a lot of noise."
"I heard it too, all the way from the concession stand. That's when I grabbed the first aid kit and ran down to the arena floor," Chuck interjected, confirming Sarah's story.
"Yeah, when the crowd parted, Chuck was there, just… out of nowhere. He… he did a good job of calming me down, setting me at ease and getting me wrapped up and rushing me here," she confessed to the doctor. Turning her head toward a blushing Chuck she gave him an appreciative smile. "Thanks."
"Aww, see?" Ellie chided playfully, shoving Chuck. "I told you those courses could come in handy," Ellie gloated with a smirk, turning to wink at Sarah as she continued to examine Sarah's ankle. "Alright. Well, there's certainly a lot of swelling but only light bruising. I suspect that, given your accounts, it's likely broken but I'll need to have it x-rayed to know for certain and to what extent. I already called radiology and they have someone on their way. Once I get the x-rays, I'll come back and review them with you." Ellie stood and stepped over to stand beside Chuck. Bending down, she gave him a one armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You did good," she confessed standing up straight and stepping out of the room.
Chuck and Sarah sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Sarah got the courage to ask what was on her mind. "So, Dr. Bartowski. Is she your…." she trailed off, not certain what to say. Chuck looked at her quizzically, but something in her expression seemed to set off a lightbulb in his head. He's eyes widened with surprise and a little mortification.
"Sister!" he nearly shouted, wincing at himself. "Yeah. She-she's my sister." Chuck wasn't sure what to make of Sarah's expression at that news. It looked like relief, but he admittedly was terrible at reading people.
"She said something about classes. Is that where you learned how to do that?" Sarah asked, gesturing at her ankle.
"Oh. Right. Yeah. In college I had to take so many credits worth of Physical Education electives, so I took a First Aid course. At the end of the class you could take the test to become certified, so I did. Then Ellie convinced me to take a course that was being offered through the hospital to become an EMR." Chuck ducked his head, looking at his shoes as he continued. "She said that given my penchant for jumping in to want to help people, I should know the right way to do it."
"Well, my ankle and I thank you. So, you do this sort of thing often? Play the hero?" she asked, smirking slightly.
"Pfft. God, I am no hero. I'm lucky I don't trip and hurt myself more often," he retorted, waving her off.
"So I heard on the phone earlier. You seemed to do pretty well tonight. I guess those EMR skills come in handy as a ... concession worker? Especially at a Roller Derby arena." Chuck snorted, nodding in agreement.
"Well, concession worker isn't exactly something I'd put on my resume. Not-not that there's anything wrong with it," he rushed out, backpedaling. "I'm just volunteering to help out a friend, so it's not a job really. I'm not getting paid for it."
"Really?" she asked, her chin pressed to her chest in surprise. "So you're just moonlighting as a concession worker slash lifesaver?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow. "What is it that your mild mannered alter ego does during the day?"
Chuck was momentarily dazed by her question, more notably how she phrased it. It was shockingly nerdy for someone so beautiful and … badass. He couldn't help but chuckle, his neck and ears turning pink. "I own a small independent software company. Some security software, line of business apps for smaller companies, that sort of thing. Basically, I'm a nerd for hire," he confessed with a self-deprecating shrug. Chuck didn't notice Sarah's furrowed brow at his comment as he was staring at his shoes.
"I assume that being a badass roller derby queen, regrettably, doesn't pay the bills. What is it that your… 'mild mannered alter ego' does during the day?" he asked cheekily, looking up to hold her gaze. He nearly melted at the smile she gave him, shaking her head in amusement.
"I'm an assistant professor of linguistics at USC. Doesn't get much more mild mannered than that," she confessed with a shrug.
"Holy shit! Seriously?" Chuck exclaimed, wincing slightly as he glanced around, realizing that was a little loud.
"It's not that big of a deal. I'm not tenured yet or anything."
"Not that big of a deal? You're a college professor! I'm not a college professor. Hell, I stopped after my bachelors. Wow. Brilliant, badass and beautiful," he murmured, though it wasn't as quiet as he'd planned.
"Well, thank you, on all accounts," she responded, shyly. "But we'll have to agree to disagree. I'm sure I look wonderful with my hair all matted and sweated," she groused, trying, in vain, to smooth down her hair.
Chuck queried a shy smile, nodding in agreement with a dreamy expression. "Yeah. You do." Before Sarah could formulate a response, an orderly knocked on the door frame before stepping into the room.
"Hi. Sorry to interrupt, but I'm going to have to wheel you down to x-ray. Our mobile unit we use here in the ER is down," the young man stated apologetically. "Your boyfriend can come along, but he'll have to wait in the hall when they take the actual x-rays."
As Chuck was attempting to interject and correct the man's mistake, Sarah beat him to it. "That would be great. Thank you." Chuck sat blinking as the orderly released the brakes on the bed and prepared to wheel her out of the room. Clearly he must have heard incorrectly or perhaps Sarah had misunderstood. Chuck was pulled from his thoughts by Sarah's voice calling him. "Chuck? Are you coming? I'd rather not have to go alone," she confessed looking a little uneasy.
Shaking himself back to reality he shot to his feet, grabbing the bed rail beside her as they started to move. "Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I'm here." He wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or himself at this point. He was still reeling from Sarah's nonchalant acceptance of the orderly's assumption. He was likely reading too much into it. She was probably just concerned that they wouldn't let him stay unless he was family or a boyfriend. That made a lot of sense. There was certainly no other logical reason that would explain it.
After the x-rays and being wheeled back to the exam room, they once again sat in silence. Each would chance a glance at the other, not able to hold the other's gaze. It was Sarah that finally broke the silence, offering her apology.
"I'm sorry about before, with the whole 'boyfriend' thing. I just don't have anyone else here and didn't feel like being alone. I was worried that if I corrected him that they wouldn't let you stay," she admitted contritely.
"Oh, hey. No. I-I get it. Makes perfect sense. Although, I think Ellie would bend the rules a little. She's pretty cool like that."
"I just hope it doesn't cause any problems with your actual girlfriend. I wouldn't want to get you in hot water."
"Wh-no. No, I… I don't have a girlfriend, but I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't be all that pleased if he found out. Although, it's not like anyone would ever actually believe that we were dating," he snorted, shaking his head, but his smile dimmed.
"What's that supposed to mean? You too good for me, Chuck? Is that what you're telling me?" Chuck nearly choked when he gasped in mortification. How could she possibly think that?
"Hey guys! I got the-" Ellie chirped as she walked into the room, stopping in mid stride, looking between Sarah and Chuck. "Oh, God. What did you do now?" Ellie asked, setting her fists on her hips as she glared at her brother.
Chuck tried to stammer out a response, but could only point at Sarah with his mouth opening wordlessly. "He seems to think that I'm not good girlfriend material, apparently," Sarah cut in before Chuck could make a sound. Just when he thought he might burst into flames from embarrassment, he caught the beginnings of a smirk on Sarah's face.
"You… you're messing with me, aren't you?" he choked out, looking from Sarah to Ellie, hoping that he was gauging the situation. He knew he was naive and gullible, something that Ellie teased him about constantly. Sarah and Ellie chuckled, clearly amused at Chuck's expense.
"Well, I don't know Sarah very well, but from what I've seen so far, she's far better girlfriend material than the ones you've had thus far. I mean, at least I have the evidence that she has a heart," Ellie joked, waving Sarah's chart in the air. Chuck rolled his eyes at his sister's jab, though he couldn't disagree.
Sarah chuckled, looking between the siblings. "That sounds like a pretty low bar. It also seems that someone doesn't have a very high opinion of themselves," Sarah added, giving Chuck a pointed look. As if he weren't even in the room, Ellie dove right in to respond.
"Tell me about it. I could tell you stories for days, but first thing's first. I have your x-rays. As you can see here," she began, pulling up the images on the computer in the room, "there is a small fracture in the fibula, just above the lateral malleolus. Luckily, the bone is stable and there's no displacement, so there's no need for surgery to correct it. There is some significant swelling though, so for now I'm going to put a splint on it to keep it immobile. You'll need to ice it and elevate it over the next couple of days until some of the swelling goes down. Then we'll have you come in and meet with an orthopedist who'll likely want to fit you with a cast. I know," Ellie said, reading the look of disappointment and dread on Sarah's face. "It sucks, but believe me, the alternative of having to get pins in your ankle is far worse. Who knows, the orthopedist may find that a splint is all that's needed, but I'll let them make that determination."
"This is gonna suck," Sarah groaned, whining slightly. "No more roller derby for me for a while, I guess. How long do you suspect it'll take to heal?"
"I'd guess anywhere from 4 to 6 weeks. Then, once the cast is off, they'll probably have you wear a boot for a couple of weeks to help you walk until you're fully healed." As they talked, a nurse brought in a splint that Ellie carefully put on Sarah's ankle.
Completing all the necessary paperwork, scheduling an appointment with the orthopedist and going over the release instructions, Ellie walked with Sarah and Chuck out to the parking lot. Chuck pushed Sarah in a wheelchair, while Ellie carried a pair of crutches. Reaching Chuck's car, Chuck helped Sarah inside with an overabundance of caution. Ellie chuckled at her brother's attentiveness, sharing a wry smile with Sarah over Chuck's shoulder.
"Remember, keep it elevated, ice it and don't put any pressure on it. You can take the splint off to wash, as long as you're sitting down. No crazy yoga pose in the shower, trying to stand on one foot. That's a sure fire way to slip, fall and make it worse. Got it?" Ellie challenged with a grin. Sarah nodded her understanding, huffing out a sigh.
Chuck gingerly closed the passenger door once she was in, putting her crutches and small duffle bag in the back seat. As Chuck rounded the back of the car, Ellie stopped him, grabbing a hold of his arm. "Take care of her, OK?" she whispered.
"Wh-what? Me? But I…. she… she's probably got tons of people to help her. Friends, team mates... a boyfriend most likely. Plus she barely knows me. I doubt she'll need me hanging around," Chuck argued somewhat dejectedly, his shoulders involuntarily slumping. Ellie gave an amused chuckle, shaking her head at her brother.
"She needed you today, didn't she? Not just at the rink, but in there," Ellie stated, thumbing over her shoulder at the hospital. "Sometimes people have a hard time asking for help. Like a certain curly-headed nerd I know," she chided, giving Chuck a knowing glare. Chuck could only roll his eyes, knowing she was right. He'd always had a hard time asking for help, especially when they were younger and Ellie had more than enough to worry about on her plate. Chuck kept his struggles, his fears, his insecurities inside, putting on a happy face to mask it all. Despite his best efforts, he had a hard time fooling his big sister. She knew him too well.
"Yeah, well. Any port in a storm, right? OW!" he yelped, rubbing his shoulder after a hard punch from his sister. With an icy glare she pointed at the car, growling under her breath.
"That's a smart, beautiful woman in there that seems to like you. Now you go take care of her or so help me Charles Irving Bar-"
"Ok! OK, geez!" he rushed out, holding up his hands in surrender. Ellie relaxed, giving him a pleased smile. "Thanks again for your help today, El. I really appreciate it."
"Anytime. Call me if you have any concerns or she has any questions. And call me later to let me know how things go," she added with a smirk and a wink. Chuck turned, waving over his shoulder as he got into the car, not wanting to argue with his sister anymore. Closing the door and buckling up, he put the car into gear to back out before realization hit him.
"Um… I… I have no idea where you live. I realize that poses somewhat of a problem seeing as how you don't really know me and I could be some kind of … creepy stalker."
"As opposed to a … not creepy stalker?" she asked with amusement on her face.
"Touché. Still, I could be a serial killer or some other type of shady character-" Chuck was halted by Sarah's outburst of laughter, holding her stomach as she shook. Chuck's expression turned flat as he watched her. Inwardly, he loved the sight and sound of her laughter; it had such a musical quality to it. On the other hand, she was clearly making fun of him, so he opted to just patiently wait until she was finished.
As her laughter began to subside, she waved at him apologetically. "I'm... I'm sorry. Oh God, that was funny. Seriously Chuck? I've met some seriously creepy guys in my time and you don't even rate on that list."
"Wow. Thanks?" he replied, not sure how to take that, although it didn't sound positive.
"Oh, stop," she chided playfully, swatting at his arm. "What I'm saying is, you're probably one of the least creepy guys I've met. After what you've done for me today, I feel pretty confident I can trust you. Plus, I know where your sister works," she teased, grinning broadly.
"That's true, I suppose. Alright then, where are we heading?" Chuck asked with a shrug.
"Are you familiar with Echo Park?" Sarah asked apprehensively.
"Umm… y-yeah. I-I'm familiar. You… you live in Echo Park?" Chuck asked, his voice catching.
"Yeah. I've got an apartment there. Once we get there I can give you directions." Chuck nodded, swallowing thickly as he pulled out and made his way to her neighborhood. The drive wasn't far, and he knew the route like the back of his hand. The entire trip consisted of Sarah hissing whenever Chuck hit a bump in the road and Chuck apologizing profusely.
"Sorry! Sorry. I never realized how shitty some of these streets are until just now. I swear, I'm trying not to hit them," he said with a wince, looking at Sarah apologetically.
"I know, Chuck. It's not your fault. It'll be fine, just try to avoid the big ones," she teased, chuckling at Chuck's sorrowful expression. When they pulled down Grace Avenue, Sarah pointed to a parking spot close to the end of the block.
"There. That's right in front of my place," she stated gesturing to the apartment building on the corner. Chuck pulled to a stop, looking up at the building in question. An ivy-covered wall surrounded the apartment building. Heavy, wooden double doors with wrought iron accents offered access into the courtyard of the apartment complex. He couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head.
"What? Don't make fun. It's a nice place," she pouted, furrowing her brow as she looked between Chuck and her apartment building.
"Oh, no! No, it's… it's not that. It's very nice. I like the neighborhood. In fact… I actually live in this neighborhood," he confessed shyly.
"Oh, so when you said you're familiar with Echo Park, you're really familiar with Echo Park." Sarah chuckled at that, her offense from before melting away. "So, where do you live?"
"Um… actually, right there," he stated, pointing at the apartment building on the adjacent corner.
"Nooooo. There's no way. Are you shitting me?" she asked skeptically, giving him a challenging glare. Chuck reached into his back pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. Removing his driver's license he handed it to her, pointing at the address. Sarah gaped as she looked at it, verifying the address on the building across from her. "So we've… we've been practically neighbors for who knows how long, and we met at the roller derby of all places," she mused, shaking her head in disbelief. Handing him his driver's license back, she huffed in bewilderment, taking it all in.
"Well, neighbor, how about we get you inside so you can put your foot up?" Without waiting for a response, Chuck hopped out of the car and raced around to the passenger side. Taking out the crutches first, and slinging her bag over his shoulder, he then opened Sarah's door. Looking around a bit awkwardly, he finally held his hands out for Sarah to take. With a grin, she took his offered hands as she pulled her legs out of the car. Pulling herself to stand on one foot, she held tight to his hands until she gained her balance.
"So how do you want to do this?" he asked hesitantly. "The crutches or with an arm around my shoulders? Or-or I could carry you if you're not up trying to walk," he offered with a stammer. Sarah hummed in amusement, holding his gaze for a moment.
"While that last option sounds intriguing, albeit a bit excessive, I'll give the crutches a try, if you can get by bag for me?" Sarah asked, giving Chuck a soft smile. Chuck nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed, but helped Sarah with her crutches and walked ahead of her to hold open the doors to her courtyard. He waited patiently for her to catch up, offering her words of encouragement which only earned him a flat look. He quickly shut up, pulling his lips between his teeth, earning him a chuckle from Sarah as she passed.
Once they reached the door, Chuck held her bag open so she could fish out her keys. Pulling them from the side pouch, she fumbled with them, trying to maintain her balance. With a huff, she stopped and turned to look up at Chuck, with a look of embarrassment, she held her keys out to him. "Could you…"
"Oh, yeah. Yeah. I got it," he rushed out, taking the keys from her and unlocking the door. He pushed the door open, stepping to the side as he held the door open with one arm. Sarah smiled gratefully before making her way into the apartment. Chuck stepped inside behind her, quietly closing the door after him. Taking in the apartment, he was in awe, momentarily speechless. The layout was not dissimilar from his apartment but the decor was so much nicer. Artwork on the walls, matching furniture with coordinating throw rugs, the place was beautiful.
"Wow," he breathed out, blinking away his stupor. He then noticed that Sarah was staring at him with a curious expression. "Your um… your place is beautiful. So much nicer than mine," he confessed sheepishly.
"Eh. It's home, I guess, but thank you. You can set the bag by the door there. I'll get it later," she said, gesturing with her head toward the spot, her hands otherwise occupied with her crutches. Chuck did as he was asked, then stood awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Umm… I know I've asked so much of you tonight already," Sarah began, unable to look Chuck in the eye, "but… would you...could you hang around for just a bit? I need to clean myself up and get ready for bed and all that. I'd feel better if someone was here in case… well, just in case, I guess." Shift lifted her gaze from the floor to look at Chuck.
The way Sarah was looking at him, he knew he could never refuse her anything. It was ridiculous, having only just met her, but he knew he'd gladly do anything she asked, especially if it gave him an excuse to be in her company. Seeing her swallow thickly and duck her head, he realized, belatedly, that he'd just been standing there, gaping.
"YES!" he shouted. "Uh… yes. Of course. Whatever you need." Sarah returned her gaze to meet his, giving him an appreciative smile. "Food." he declared, though he didn't give any other context or qualifiers. Quirking her eyebrow at him he ashamedly closed his eyes and huffed in exasperation at himself.
"You need food. I'm sure it's been hours since you've eaten and you'll need something in your stomach before taking any pain relievers." Sarah blinked in surprise but nodded her agreement.
"Yeah. I-I could eat, but you don't need to worry about that. You've done so much already and I'm sure you're ready to get home-"
"Nonsense. My empty apartment will fare perfectly well without me. You on the other hand, need to stay off of that foot as much as possible. No need for you to spend that time in the kitchen preparing something when I'm right here. You just go and take care of … whatever it is you need to take care of," he declared, gestured down the hallway, where he assumed her bedroom to be.
"You're sure?" she asked, apprehensively, not wanting to take advantage of his generosity. Chuck nodded emphatically, practically shooing her away. She let out a small chuckle and started heading toward her bedroom. "Thank you. The kitchen is in there, obviously. I'm sure there's something in the freezer you can heat up; anything is fair game. Make yourself at home," she assured him as she disappeared down the hall.
Chuck watched her go, trying not to stare, but found the feat quite difficult. Once she was out of sight, he shook himself and made for the kitchen. "Hmmm, let's see what we've got here," he spoke to himself, beginning to look through the refrigerator and freezer, then the various cabinets to see what he had to work with. Gaining some inspiration, he began collecting ingredients.
Nearly forty minutes later, Sarah hobbled out with her crutches, following the hypnotic aroma coming from the kitchen. Chuck poked his head out of the kitchen, a dish towel over his shoulder and a beaming smile on his face.
"Hey! How you feeling?" he asked, making his way toward her. She returned the smile, shrugging her shoulders as best she could.
"I feel cleaner at least. Sorry it took me so long. It was a lot more work trying deal with this stupid ankle," she grumbled, looking down at her ankle, rewrapped in its splint. Sarah returned her gaze to Chuck and saw that his eyes were wide as he now stood in front of her.
Sarah was standing in front of him in a t-shirt and shorts with her damp hair spilling down over her shoulders. "You certainly look… you look…" he trailed off, blinking to try and regain his focus. "Great. You-you look great," he assured her, giving Sarah a tight smile.
Scoffing at his compliment, she looked herself over. "I'm sure I look dreadful in these crappy, comfy clothes, my hairs still wet and no makeup."
"Yeah…" Chuck relied dreamily as he took her in once again. "I-I mean, no. I mean, I like the way you look." His comment hung heavy in the air as they held each other's gaze. Sarah involuntarily licked her lips, the small, seemingly innocent motion breaking Chuck from his stupor.
"Food," he exclaimed, thumbing over his shoulder toward her dining area, desperate to change the subject. "Come sit and I'll get you a plate." Sarah nodded, smiling shyly as she followed him toward the dining table. Chuck had already set up a spot for her to sit. The adjacent chair had been moved next to her chair, giving her a place to put her foot up. Chuck gingerly assisted her with sitting, taking her crutches and then placing a throw pillow on the adjacent chair for her to rest her foot. Once she was reasonably comfortable, Chuck disappeared into the kitchen.
The table was already set with flatware, napkins and water glasses for two. She noticed four tablets next to her water glass and his thoughtfulness made her smile. A moment later Chuck came back carrying two plates, setting one in front of Sarah then sitting next to her with his own. Sarah was beyond shocked, gaping in surprise at the dish before her.
"Oh my God! You-you made this? How?" she asked in disbelief.
"I saw the stuff you had sitting around and I figured you could use a good, home cooked meal. Well, a home cooked meal, at any rate. I can't promise the "good" part. It's my attempt at Chicken Vino Bianco. I hope it's alright?" he asked hesitantly, with a wince.
"This looks and smells amazing. I'm still shocked that I had the stuff here to make this. Thank you," she stated sincerely, giving him a warm smile. Chuck nodded, ducking his head shyly. When she took a bite, she couldn't help but moan in delight, closing her eyes as she savored the rich and flavorful bite. Her reverie was interrupted by a clattering beside her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Chuck fumbling to regain control of his fork, gripping it with both hands, as if willing it to cooperate.
"S-sorry. It's slippery I guess," he murmured, his ears, cheeks and neck noticeably reddening. Realization dawned on her and she tried to hide her amusement by taking another bite, forcing herself to not react this time. For a few moments they ate in silence, focused on their respective plates. Pausing a moment to reflect, Sarah moved her food around her plate with her fork.
"You've established that you don't have a girlfriend and you live alone. You clearly never cooked for them," she admitted cheekily, grinning.
Chuck chuckled, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he finished chewing. "Well… no. No, I guess I didn't, though I doubt it would have made her feel any different," he confessed, now playing with his own food.
"Ellie seemed to allude to the fact that they were heartless," Sarah offered, curious to learn more.
"'They' is a stretch; more like 'she', singular. Hard to believe, I know, with this suave and debonair appearance," he droned, rolling his eyes at himself. "She had her sights set on someone else; someone with the prospects, charm and good looks that I didn't have," he confessed, shrugging his shoulders sadly. "But that was a long time ago and her restraining order is quite specific."
Sarah choked out a laugh, coughing as she tried to recover. "That-that's funny," she managed to get out, patting her chest and taking a drink.
"So what about you? What's your boyfriend like?" Chuck asked, trying to change the subject. Sarah considered him for a moment, letting a one note chuckle.
"Well, I don't have one, but I suppose if I did… he'd have to be tall, dark and handsome," she began. Chuck nodded as he stared at his food, his lips twisted to the side to mask his disappointment. "He'd have to be kind, caring and have a great sense of humor; not taking himself too seriously," she continued, grinning slightly as she glanced at Chuck. "And if he could cook on top of all of that…" she trailed off blowing out a breath, shaking her head. "If only such a guy existed," she stated dreamily, taking another bite of food, humming in appreciation.
Chuck was wordlessly staring at her, certain he was in some sort of day dream. He knew he was dense at times, always assuming the best intentions of everyone, or summing the worst when it came to himself. The fact that she didn't have a boyfriend seems ludicrous, though he supposed it made sense. It would be tough to find someone that could be worthy of such a smart and beautiful woman. She undoubtedly had men lining up to be with her, she could afford to be picky.
Deciding that he couldn't unwrap all she'd said right now, he opted to change the subject. "You have a really great place here," he admitted, gesturing around the room with his fork in hand. "The art and tchotchkes everywhere. That is the term, right? Tchotchkes? I don't mean to downplay anything that might have sentimental value," he rushed out, holding up his hands.
Sarah snorted in response, shaking her head. "No, you're fine. Tchotchkes is as good a word as any. I traveled a lot, experiencing different cultures and languages. Some of it for my studies and others just for the fun of it. Everywhere I went I tried to bring back a … 'souvenir', something to help me remember my visit there."
"Wow. That's so cool. I'd love to travel like that, but I just never really got the opportunity. I've never vacationed or anything. Not really," he admitted, shrugging the comment off.
"Not even as a kid?" she asked, her brow knit with intrigue and concern.
"Definitely not as a kid," he declared, his eyes going wide for a moment. For a brief moment she thought to question more, but it sounded like a sore subject, so she held her tongue. They continued to talk while they ate, mostly about work or other light topics. When they finished eating, Chuck cleared the table, washing their plates, having already washed all of the other cookware from his meal preparation.
"You didn't have to go through all this trouble, especially doing the dishes," she admonished him, with a grateful smile.
"Pfft. It was nothing. We Bartowskis are, if nothing else, cleaners. It's what we do, especially when we're stressed or anxious," he admitted with a chuckle, placing her dish rag over the faucet to dry. "I put another serving in the refrigerator so you can heat it up tomorrow. That'll be at least one meal you won't have to worry about."
"I don't know how to thank you. Seriously. You've really gone above and beyond. I don't know what I would have done without all your help." Chuck waved her off sheepishly, hanging the dish towel over the handle of the oven door.
"Well… I… I suppose I should get out of your hair; let you get some rest or… whatever," he added, shrugging awkwardly. He slowly and reluctantly made his way to her front door, his hands in his pockets. He was nearly there when Sarah's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Do-do you wanna stay for a few minutes? Maybe watch some TV or something?" she asked hesitantly. "Unless you need to get home. I completely under-"
"I could watch some TV," he interjected, a grin spreading across his face. Sarah let out a breath in relief, her grin matching his. She hobbled with her crutches toward the couch when she heard Chuck snap his fingers. "One sec," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen.
When he came back and met her at the couch, he was wrapping a bag of frozen peas in a kitchen towel. "Improvised ice pack," he stated, holding it up with a grin. Sarah let out a giggle, lowering herself to the couch and laying the crutches on the ground in front of her. Chuck looked around, trying to figure out how best to elevate her foot when a simple idea came to mind. Grabbing the throw pillow he'd used for Sarah during dinner, he returned to the couch and sat on the opposite end as Sarah. Placing the pillow in his lap, he patted it, looking at her in anticipation.
"Put your foot up. You need to get it elevated." Sarah considered him for a moment, looking between his eyes and the pillow. Twisting her lips to the side to mask her smile, she swung her legs up and scooted down so her feet were resting on his lap; one on the pillow and the other across his knees. Gingerly, Chuck removed the splint and placed the cold pack on her swollen ankle. Sarah watched him in fascination the entire time, marveling at his gentle, caring nature. She would never have dreamed of being in this situation with someone she'd only met that day, but something about it, about him, set her at ease. Sighing in relief, and not just from the slight numbing on her ankle, she turned on the television and started surfing channels.
"Naked and Afraid," Chuck snorted. "Sounds like high school after every gym class." Sarah barked out a laugh, practically doubling over, despite how awkward that was to do while lying down.
"Oh my God. That's too funny. Tell me you're joking?" she asked, looking at Chuck, expecting to see him laughing along. When she saw his hesitation she grew concerned. "Chuck?"
"Well… mostly it's a joke, but let's just say that high school wasn't exactly a treat for me," he confessed with a tight smile. He had already admitted that he owned a software company, and stereotypes being what they are, she guessed that he was not among the popular crowd in high school. Not that it meant anything now, but those experiences stuck with you. She knew some of that first hand.
"If they could only see you now," she said with a kind smile. The strange look he gave her, raising his eyebrow, caused her to re-evaluate previous comment. "Oh God! Not the … not the naked in gym part. Well, I mean, I wouldn't know, but... Gah! What I'm trying to say is that despite how people may have treated you then, I'm sure they'd feel pretty stupid if they could see how you turned out." Sarah huffed in exasperation, blowing a stray hair out of her face.
The corners of Chuck's lips slowly turned up until they formed a full on smile, his nose crinkling. "Thanks. We may have to agree to disagree, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless." Sarah smiled, shaking her head and rolling her eyes good naturedly at him. She turned her attention back to the television and continued to surf through the channels. After skipping over jewelry shopping channels, news shows and various sports channels, Sarah stopped on one and gasped.
"Golden Girls!"
"Golden Girls!"
Sarah and Chuck both slowly turned to one another, amusement on their faces. "You like Golden Girls?" Sarah asked incredulously.
"I love the Golden Girls! Are you kidding? Betty White is a comedy legend and Estelle Getty? Forgetaboutit!" he exclaimed quite passionately. "You can criticize me all you like, but I love this show."
"No! I love it too! I used to watch it as a kid when I stayed with my grandma. It still reminds me of those times. Those were good times," she said a little wistfully, as if reminiscing.
"Then let's watch this then," Chuck suggested, gesturing to the TV. Sarah nodded and set the remote on the arm of the couch above her head. The two watched the remainder of the current episode and into the next, settling into the couch, both exceedingly comfortable. Chuck periodically adjusted her cold pack, eventually removing it and putting the splint back on.
As they continued to watch in comfortable silence, only interrupted by the occasional bout of laughter, Chuck began to absentmindedly rub her uninjured foot that rested on his knees. At first Sarah thought it might have been accidental, but gradually became more deliberate. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and could see that he wasn't really conscious of his actions, engrossed in the show. Enjoying the sensation, she kept quiet allowing him to continue. When he hit an especially sore spot, Sarah couldn't stifle her groan, which admittedly sounded a bit feral.
Chuck's eyes widened in mortification, letting go of her foot instantly. "Oh God! I'm so… so sorry. I just… I…" he choked out, not really having a defense or explanation for what had happened.
"Hey," Sarah interrupted, trying to get his attention. When she saw the look on his face, there was something in her that melted a little. That coupled with his incredible ministrations, she felt emboldened. "Who told you you could stop?" she questioned, giving him a small smirk. She could watch the gears turning in his head, his emotions showing in real time across his face. Mortification, confusion, disbelief and then, perhaps, hope. Feeling much the same way, she gave him a soft smile. Wordlessly she turned back to watching the television, as did Chuck.
With only a moment's pause, Chuck returned to his task, rubbing Sarah's foot as they continued to enjoy their show. It wasn't long before Sarah drifted off to sleep, a soft snore signaling Chuck. Gently, he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and laid it across her, making sure to cover her feet, tucking her in as best he could. He watched her sleep, so beautiful and peaceful, until he began to feel a bit creepy. He continued to rub her foot under the blanket as he watched television.
After their fifth episode came to a close, and the clock read 2:00AM, both Chuck and Sarah were fast asleep, the long day having taken its toll. As the show transitioned into a paid advertisement, Sarah jolted slightly, opening her eyes a crack to look around. She saw Chuck, his head resting on the back of the couch, quietly sleeping. He looked adorable and incredibly peaceful, though she feared he'd have a stiff neck when he woke.
Sarah noticed that she was now covered up, obviously Chuck's doing. What's more, his hands were still gently wrapped around her foot, helping to keep it warm. While her elevated foot was a bit cold, as her feet tended to be ordinarily, Chuck's hands sent warmth through her that went far beyond just her foot. It was so odd to think that she had just met Chuck, and under such unpleasant circumstances, but it felt like she'd known him for ages. The ease and comfort she felt with him, it was unlike anything she'd experienced before. Whatever this was she was feeling, what she hoped he was feeling too, she definitely wasn't ready for it to end. Not tonight, certainly.
Lifting the remote from her chest, she changed the channel to the Music Choice channel called Soundscapes, offering quiet, soothing background music. She set the timer on her television to turn off in sixty minutes, then placed the remote on the floor next to her. Reaching up, she was just able to turn off the light on the end table behind her before snuggling back into the couch. Watching him sleep, she couldn't help but smile.
"Thank you, Chuck. Good night," Sarah whispered into the darkened room, before drifting off to sleep.
A/N: The End. At least I think it is. "Some people" don't seem to like that answer, but we'll see how that goes.
I'd like to hear what your answer is. Leave a review or PM and let me know what you think.
Be well and stay safe,
JW