A/N: A new Charah Christmas story for 2020. That's all the lead in I'll give you.

Disclaimer: Don't own Chuck. I also don't own Christmas, but I put in an offer. We'll see. Finger's crossed.


Chapter 1

"Wait. What d'you mean you're 'letting' me go'?" she asked in disbelief.

"Look, I'm so sorry. It's not personal. You've been such a wonderful addition here, but sales are down for pretty much every brick and mortar store, and ours is no exception. You're a great worker and I wish I could afford to keep you on, but we have to let some of our staff go. Otherwise, I'd have to close the store completely," Meredith confessed, looking legitimately contrite. "I know it's not much of a consolation, but I wrote you a glowing recommendation letter," she added with a hopeful smile, sliding a sealed envelope with "Sarah Walker" written on the front.

Sarah blew out a long sigh, holding her hand to her forehead as she tried to process what was happening. It was a week before Christmas and she was now out of a job. To her, now former, boss' point, retail jobs were hard to come by given the penchant for online shopping; especially good paying ones. She hated food service work with a passion, so she'd been thankful to get this retail job. She had no particular love for the work itself, but it was honest work. That's what she kept telling herself.

For the past year, she'd been trying to go straight, leaving her father and his way of life behind in favor of a more ethical and legal means of subsisting. As hard as the life of a grifter was, she'd found honest work to be leaps and bounds more difficult. Punching a clock, being told what to do... paying taxes, it was a soul-crushing existence at times, but she at least had a sense of pride that she was finally on the "right side" for a change.

Some habits were hard to break though. Since she was a little girl, her and her father had moved from place to place, staying one step ahead of the law, debt collectors or angry "villagers" with pitchforks. To this day, she still found it difficult to stay in one place for too long, growing restless until she ultimately had to move on. She'd had nearly a dozen jobs in as many months, but this one, at the "Book Nook" , had lasted the longest. It was a family-owned and operated book and collectibles store, featuring a coffee bar inside. The coffee and the free wifi were the biggest draws, and since she'd started working there, just before Thanksgiving, business had only picked up marginally for the book and collectible sales. Sarah should have expected the layoff, given the poor sales, but she'd grown to like the people she worked with; at least more so than any of the other places she'd been. She wouldn't go so far as to say they were friends. She didn't really have friends.

Her father had always warned about attachments. "Never get attached to something you can't walk away from when things go south." Even though she no longer felt the need to constantly look over her shoulder, her new identity giving her a clean start, she still had a hard time getting close to people. Admittedly, she was doing better at small talk, but she obviously couldn't tell people about her past, and rather than lying and making up some story they'd find believable, she opted for superficial interactions instead.

Her new identity as "Sarah Lisa Walker" was actually the only thing real about her. When she left with her father at the age of seven, he had shed the name in favor of a long string of aliases. There was a new name for nearly every city, and while she had them all written down, she couldn't recall them all from memory any longer. When she'd left the grifting life, she returned to her true identity, giving her a clean start. The biggest problem was that "Sarah Lisa Walker" had no work or credit history, no driver's license and no high school diploma; only a birth certificate. She had attended and graduated high school, but that was under an assumed name that was now, for all intents and purposes, dead and buried. Her last bit of grifting had been to forge a back dated homeschool diploma, which would avoid the mess of having to deal with any actual high school, should anything come into question. Even though she had considerable skills, she couldn't put most of them on a resume and she had no work experience on her record to back them up. That was why she was forced to work retail jobs for the time being.

Sarah stood up and took the offered envelope, tapping it against the palm of her hand. "Thanks Meredith. I know things are tough and I appreciate you keeping me around as long as you have." The older store owner stood and walked around the desk in the small back office. Squeezing Sarah's shoulder sympathetically, Meredith handed her another envelope, this one smaller than the first.

"This is the pay we owe you for this week, in cash. It's Christmas, so I added a little bit extra. I wish it could be more, but it's all Rick and I could afford." The hitch in the woman's voice showed how genuinely disheartened she was at having to give Sarah the unhappy news. Sarah nodded, giving her the best tight-lipped smile she could muster.

"Thanks, Meredith. Have a uh… Merry Christmas," Sarah offered, giving the older woman a wave as she left the office. Grabbing her purse from the breakroom, she left the store, stepping out onto the sidewalk of the small shopping plaza. Sarah knew better than to count money out in the open, so she put the envelopes in her purse and made her way to her car. Her vehicle wasn't hard to spot, the crumpled fender along with the calico patches of faded paint and primer stood out. It was all she could afford at the time and it had gotten her where she needed to go so far. Hopefully it would get her to the next town, wherever that might be.

Listening to the radio on the drive to her apartment hadn't helped her mood. Every station was playing a commercial and the ones that weren't played Christmas music. When "I'll Be Home For Christmas" began to play, she turned the radio off altogether, nearly twisting the knob off completely. Like every other Christmas, there was no "home" to go to. Sarah had left her mother, along with her innocence, to go on those adventures with her father. Those "adventures" turned out to be cons in disguise, her father using her sweetness to swindle people out of their money. Eventually, she came to understand her father for what he was, but by then she was in too deep. She had no place else to go.

Sarah had no other family she could visit. Her grandparents had all passed, as far as she knew, and she had no aunts or uncles that she was aware of. Her father was… well, they had not parted on the best of terms, so she would expect no warm reception from him, even if she knew where he was. That only left her mother. Sarah knew that she had hurt her mother deeply, likely burning any bridge that might lead back to the woman she'd left so long ago. There had been many times when she'd thought about trying to reach out to her mother, find some way to make things right, if such a thing were possible. But each time Sarah got close, she lost her nerve. She'd even come so close as to watch her mother from a distance, but couldn't face the possibility of being rejected by her mother, as Sarah had indirectly rejected her so many years ago.

Back at her apartment, Sarah packed what few belongings she had. Old habits being what they were, she largely lived out of her suitcase, so packing wasn't an arduous task. With her dirty clothes in a trash bag and her toiletries stowed in her duffle, she took a moment to double-check the inside pocket before zipping it up. There she found her most valued possession: a picture of her and her mother. The picture was old and well-worn, having provided her some measure of comfort over the years of living her father's vagabond lifestyle. She could barely remember the event when the picture had been taken more than fifteen years prior, but she tried to hold on to the feeling that it gave her. They both looked so happy, Sarah's mother kneeling down to her level, pressing their smiling faces together to pose for the camera.

A pang of longing caused a sharp, shaky inhale as Sarah returned the picture to its pocket for safe keeping. Collecting her things, she took one last look over the dingy apartment before turning off the light and closing the door. She stopped by the office of the run-down apartment building and turned in her key. Sarah settled up with the manager, agreeing to forfeit her deposit to cover the overdue rent and calling it even. The manager had alluded to other potential forms of "payment", but after being introduced to her knife, he saw the error of his ways and happily agreed to Sarah's demands.

Back in her car, she sat with the engine noisily idling as she took stock of her assets. She had two-hundred forty-three dollars and change in cash, plus just under twenty dollars in the bank. That would have to last her until she found another job. She had enough for food and gas, but not nearly enough for a deposit on an apartment, much less the rent. It wasn't the first time that she'd found herself in this situation, and the temptation to slip back into her old ways was strong. Her mind wandered back to her mother, daring to envision a holiday dinner with her; like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting or a Hallmark Channel movie. The notion was ridiculous and she scolded herself for holding out false hope. Still, maybe false hope was the only kind she could afford.

Putting San Diego behind her, she headed north up the "5", with her sights set on Modesto. She had no idea what she would do once she got there. Would she be able to muster the courage to actually approach her mother this time, unlike all the times before? She had several hours to think about it as her car rumbled down the highway.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sarah sat with her head resting against the steering wheel, trying to take slow, steady breaths to maintain her calm. About three miles south of Santa Clarita, she was sitting in the breakdown lane, which was aptly named, given that her car had indeed broken down. Smoke wafting from underneath the hood of her car, she'd managed to maneuver it to the burm, and out of traffic, before it coasted to a stop. Cars and semis flew past, mere feet from her driver's side door, causing the whole car to shake as the draft buffeted it about. She stared at her cell phone sitting in her lap, and the "No LTE" message beside the empty wedge of her cell signal meter. As saturated as the cellular networks were in this part of the state, her car would have to break down in this small valley; likely the one dead spot in the whole area. Even if she could call a tow truck, she didn't have the money to waste, nor enough money to fix the damn thing. Sighing in resignation, she leaned back in her seat and stared at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, she tried to pull herself together for the long walk ahead and the prospect of having to hitchhike to Modesto. She had a lightweight jacket in her bag, which was normally more than enough, but it was unseasonably cold for the area, with temperatures dipping into the fifties over the past few days. She had to chuckle at the thought. Having spent winters in Ohio, Michigan and Wisconsin, fifty-six degrees in December was shorts weather for them. Sarah had been back in California long enough that her skin had grown thin again, her acclimation to the cold having been lost. She really wasn't looking forward to hitching a ride, but she didn't think there'd be much choice.

A knock on the passenger-side window nearly sent her through the roof. Jumping in her seat, she grabbed her chest to still her racing heart. Staring in the passenger window at her was a dark-haired man who appeared to be close to her age. He gave a small wave and an apprehensive smile. She stared in shock, never expecting anyone to actually stop alongside the road to offer help. He didn't look like a cop or Freeway Service Patrol, so he was either a good Samaritan (if such a thing truly existed) or a serial killer. The man spoke, but it was unintelligible over the din of the traffic driving by.

Shaking herself from her daze, she tried to roll down the window of the passenger door, only to recall that it hadn't worked in months. Sighing in exasperation, she motioned to her ear, shaking her head and then gestured at the door. He seemed to understand her impromptu game of charades and stepped aside to open the passenger door slightly.

"Hi," he began, looking apologetic. "Sorry to startle you. I saw you pulled over, with all the …" he paused, gesturing toward the front of her car, where only small wisps of smoke were now visible. "Are you ok? You're not hurt or anything?" he asked, showing genuine concern.

"No. No. I'm alright. My car on the other hand…" she trailed off, blowing out a long breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, I see that. I don't think it's supposed to do that," he chuckled, then cleared his throat nervously. "Can I call you a tow truck or something?"

"No," she rushed out, waving her hand dismissively. "No, I…" Sarah stopped herself, a little embarrassed to share her woes with a complete stranger. She averted her gaze down at her phone, giving her something to look at besides the man at her door while she came up with an excuse. In her peripheral vision, she could see him studying her then glancing around the car. To fill the awkward silence, she used her phone as an excuse.

"There's no signal out here, being stuck in this valley. I'll just have to walk up the hill and I can call-"

"Oh no you won't," the man exclaimed, causing Sarah to turn in her seat to face him, shocked by his statement.

'Excuse me?" she asked, with her brow furrowed and her chin against her chest, sounding more than a little agitated. His eyes went wide in a brief moment of panic.

"That-that-that came out wrong," he backpedaled, holding up his hands in surrender. "What-what I meant was, that is entirely too dangerous. I … I can't in good conscience let you walk down this highway. Even just sitting here is dangerous. All it takes is for some driver to nod off at the wheel or get distracted and drift into this lane and then... BAM!" He clapped his hands loudly, emphasizing his point, which made Sarah jump a little in surprise.

"Let me at least take you to the next exit that has a gas station or a restaurant; someplace where you can be out of the elements and harm's way," he pleaded, his expression sincere and hopeful.

"And climbing into a car with a complete stranger is safe?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow in question. The man pondered her point and bobbed his head from side to side.

"You got me there," he admitted with a shrug. His eyes began to wander in contemplation as he worked his jaw back and forth. "Ummmm… I uh… How… how about you drive then?" he inquired. She couldn't help the incredulous expression on her face at what she thought was an absurd idea.

"If I could drive, I wouldn't be sitting here," she snarked, tilting her head to the side as she waited for a comeback. To her surprise, he didn't take offense or become defensive. Instead he laughed, shaking his head. She was beginning to grow angry at the thought that he was laughing at her, but he quickly came to his own defense.

"Not, your car. My car," he stated, gesturing with his thumb toward the rear of her car. Sarah glanced in the rearview mirror and saw his vehicle behind hers, but it was too close to tell what make or model it was. "You could drive my car if you want, that way you're in control. No funny business, I promise." He raised his right hand as a pledge and crossed his heart with the other. The rather juvenile gesture made her snort, shaking her head at this odd man. She wasn't really worried about riding with him, but he didn't need to know that. She was quite capable of taking care of herself. Even so, she was good at reading people, a skill that she'd honed over many years with her father. What she saw in this man was kindness and sincerity, and the package it came in wasn't terrible to look at either.

Sarah considered the man for a moment before shooing him away from the door. With a nod and a dejected frown, he complied, stepping back away from the door. She hadn't meant for him to take it as a dismissal, just a signal to give her some space, but she wasn't in a mood to explain herself. Rather than getting out on the traffic side of the car, she climbed over the center console into the passenger seat. Collecting the few belongings she had in the cup holders and glove compartment, she stepped out of the car. When she stood, she was surprisingly close to the man, his mouth at eye level. She hadn't realized how tall he was, or how nice he smelled, until now. She saw his Adam's apple bob up and down, causing her to glance up at him through her lashes.

She was a bit taken aback by the expression on his face. She had become quite adept at flirting with men to get what she wanted. Dressing just so, acting a certain way and using the right tone, men would eat out of her hand. But with this man, she'd done none of those things and yet he seemed wholly captivated. When his gaze met hers, an odd sensation suffused her. There was a depth, an intelligence, behind those hazel eyes, but most of all there was warmth. Sarah noted that his gaze had not drifted away from her face, never once looking her over in objectification. There could be a number of reasons for that, but for now she'd just tuck that little tidbit away. Realizing that she'd gotten too close to this man, to the point it was becoming awkward, she stepped back, turning to head toward the trunk, lost in her thoughts.

Sarah fiddled with the key in the trunk, pushing down hard on the lid before it finally opened with a groan. Inside was her duffle, small, black trash bag of laundry and the spare tire, which was flat, making it utterly useless. Grabbing the bags, she slammed the trunk a few times before it finally latched, then turning to look at the car parked behind her. Sarah let out a low whistle as she looked the car over in awe.

"That's a… that's a nice car," she admitted, walking along the passenger side as she ogled the sleek vehicle.

"Oh… uh... Thanks. It's uh... maybe a little over the top, but my sister convinced me to treat myself for a change," he admitted shyly with a shrug. He held out his hand, jingling the keys that dangled from his fingers as he offered them to her.

"Are you crazy?" she asked, looking at him like he'd truly lost his mind. "I'm not driving your car. Especially not THAT car. I can't even afford the insurance payment on that car."

"It's just a thing," he uttered, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. "If it'll make you more comfortable, then please, take them." He offered her the keys again, his expression showing no signs of apprehension. Most men were incredibly particular about their cars, especially expensive sports cars like this one. Sarah looked between him and the keys several times before shaking her head.

"No," she stated, "I trust you." The tall man seemed to be as taken aback by her words as she was. Where had that come from? Life had conditioned her to not trust anyone, assuming that everyone had an angle; an ulterior motive. Yet the words had passed her lips so effortlessly, without a conscious thought. For some inexplicable reason, she really believed him to be trustworthy. Maybe it was the trust he'd shown in her. Sarah had conned many a person into trusting her and her father over the years, but that came largely through deceit. With this man, maybe he was just trusting by nature; a "schnook" as her father would say. Maybe he was, but it seemed to come from a place of kindness, rather than ignorance.

Reaching under the lip of the hood, he lifted it open to reveal the "trunk" (or what passed as a trunk in a sports car). There was already a duffle bag and a messenger bag stowed inside, but there was still enough room for her bags. He offered to take them from her and she had to fight her instinct to do it herself. Hesitantly, she handed the two bags to him and he gently placed them inside, closing the hood.

"You're sure?" he asked, dangling the keys again. She couldn't keep the grin off her face at his efforts to make her feel at ease. Sarah nodded that she was sure and he gave a shrug and moved to the passenger door. He pulled it open and stepped aside, motioning for her to get in. Normally she'd be surprised that a man would hold the car door for her, especially in their current situation. Somehow, she suspected that he was always this polite and respectful, regardless of the setting. Flashing him an appreciative smile, she slid into the passenger seat. Once she was inside, he cautiously closed the door and jogged around to the driver's side.

He waited by the front bumper for a break in traffic before racing to hop in the car himself. As Sarah took in the interior of the car, the first thing she noticed was how immaculate it was, still having that new car smell. The seat was quite comfortable, almost like it was trying to hug her. The man beside her fastened his seatbelt and adjusted himself to get comfortable. Reaching for the large, red "Start-Engine-Stop" button on the steering wheel, he paused and left out a huff. Sarah looked between him and the button, unsure what his hesitation was. He turned in his seat to face her, or as much as the racing style seat would allow.

"I'm sorry. I just realized I never introduced myself." He extended his hand to her with a warm smile. "I'm Chuck." Eyeing his hand for a moment, she took it and shook it. She noticed it was quite warm and a little damp, which seemed fitting given the nervousness she'd seen in him during their "close" encounter. She hesitated to give her name in return, wondering if she should risk revealing her real name or use one of her many aliases. She would likely never see this man again, so there didn't seem much harm in telling him her name.

"Sarah," she replied. Chuck's smile widened, adding a sparkle to his eyes as they crinkled at the corners.

"Sarah," he repeated. "That's a beautiful name. Very fitting." Sarah noticed his eyes widen slightly at his compliment, that nervousness from earlier returning. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that it made her feel good; both the compliment and his reaction. Most men she'd encountered would have undressed her with their eyes by now and would have said anything they thought would get them into her pants. Chuck was decidedly different. She'd never caught him looking anywhere other than her face and his compliment wasn't offered with a smarmy grin. It was very refreshing.

Chuck cleared his throat and turned back to face forward, starting the car with the push of a button. The low growl that emanated from behind them was rather … sexy. Sarah wasn't a car guru, but she at least recognized the Audi emblem she'd seen on the grill. When she thought of "Audi", she'd always envisioned a sedan or a wagon of some sort. This was certainly no soccer mom car. The dashboard lit up like the helm of some space ship and when he shifted into reverse, the display changed to a rearview camera.

He backed up a short distance, likely giving him some room to merge into traffic. When he stopped far shorter than she'd anticipated, she turned to give him a questioning look. Chuck shifted gears again and glanced in the side mirror. "You might want to hold on to something," he stated, not looking at her. Before she could formulate a response, she was thrown back into her seat as the engine roared to life and the car shot forward into traffic.

In a matter of seconds the car had matched speed with the surrounding traffic, after which it seemed to idle along effortlessly. "Wow. That was impressive," she breathed out, not realizing she'd been holding her breath during that surprise take off.

"I'm still getting the hang of this thing. I got it as an early Christmas present to myself. I've never owned anything like this before," he confessed with a sheepish grin. They sat in an awkward silence for a long moment before Chuck felt compelled to break it.

"So, are you traveling to see family?" he asked, chancing a glance over at her before returning his eyes to the road.

"Yeah. Err… no. Um, sort of. It's… complicated," she stammered out. Closing her eyes briefly as she inwardly berated herself, trying to collect her thoughts. She didn't share things with people, certainly nothing about her family. Why had she let that slip to him? Why couldn't she have just made something up and be done with it? Now he was going to pry and she'd have to dodge his questions.

"Yeah. I get that. Families are complicated," he admitted, nodding his head in understanding. He continued to silently stare out through the windshield, but his brow was furrowed and he was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, deep in thought. She couldn't help but wonder what was so complicated with his life. He was clearly doing well for himself, being able to afford the car they were in. But, she knew from experience that appearances weren't everything. Maybe he had some family issues too. Before she could muster the courage to ask, he maneuvered the car onto an exit ramp and got off the highway. Turning left, they crossed under the interstate and turned right onto an old side road aptly named "The Old Rd.", which ran along the "5". The road seemed well traveled, but was still rather remote, so it began to set off alarm bells. Before long those warnings quieted as the area became more populated with businesses and hotels.

"Are you uh… are you hungry?" he asked, glancing her way. They had sat in silence for so long she had to pause for a moment to process what he'd asked.

"Oh… I uh… I'm OK," she answered, but her stomach chose that moment to provide its own response. The growl was loud enough to be heard over the engine and passing traffic, causing her to instinctively grab her stomach. Feeling mortified, she couldn't meet his gaze, instead she looked out the passenger window.

She heard a soft chuckle from beside her before he spoke. "It seems there's some dissension in the ranks." With no further comment or teasing, he pulled into a parking lot and found a spot to park. After shutting off the engine, he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door.

"Come on. It's my treat. Once you've eaten, then we can figure out what to do about your car." Without another word, he extricated himself from the car and closed the door, stepping up onto the sidewalk to wait for her. She blinked a few times, trying to process what he'd said, seemingly including himself in dealing with her troubles. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she hurried out of the car to join him.

Chuck gestured for her to walk ahead, ever the gentleman. "Chuck, this really isn't necessary. I'm sure you have places to be and you've been more than kind to volunteer to drop me off. I can't ask you to-"

"You didn't ask. I offered," he interrupted, stepping past her to pull the door open. "If I didn't want to help, I wouldn't have offered."

"Something tells me you'd feel obligated to help regardless," she retorted, glancing back at him over her shoulder as she entered the restaurant. He chuckled as he followed after her, stepping up beside her at the ordering line.

"You're probably right. Still, I want to help, but first thing's first. We need to eat. I'm sorry I didn't ask before coming here. I figured burgers would be fairly safe. It also doesn't scream that I'm trying to impress you, like this is some kind of … date or something." She turned slowly to look at Chuck, noticing that he was fidgeting with his hands, trying to figure out where to put them. For some reason she liked that she made him a little nervous.

"So, are you?" she asked. "Trying to impress me that is." Chuck's mouth dropped open as he started stammering, shaking his head. Taking pity on him, she placed her hand on his arm as she began to giggle with her tongue between her teeth. "I'm just messing with you," she confessed, letting out a contented sigh. She couldn't remember the last time she'd really laughed.

"And, yes. Burgers are perfect, but you don't have to buy me lunch," she stated, giving him a flat look.

"I'm the one who insisted on coming here, and with the day you've had, you deserve to be treated to a meal at the very least," he replied, not giving in an inch.

"What d'you mean, the day I've had?" Sarah asked. How could he know what a shitty day she'd had? Was it plastered all over her face?

"You know, the car breaking down thing?" he answered, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder.

"Oh… oh, right. Yeah. That," she said, nodding her understanding as she looked over the large menu board ahead of them.

"I take it by your tone that your problems today started before your car broke down, huh?" Sarah glanced at him out of the corner of her eye but didn't turn to acknowledge him. "Given your "luggage", I assume you're either on your way home from college or … you know what? It's none of my business. I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry. Your business is your own," he concluded before stepping up to the counter to place his order.

Sarah wondered if he was that observant or if she was just losing her poker face after having been out of the game for almost a year. Still, she appreciated that he dropped the subject and didn't pressure her about it. She placed her order as well, allowing Chuck to pay. She wasn't entirely comfortable with it, but she convinced herself that the more money she could save, the better off she'd be.

Sarah got their drinks from the soda fountain machine and Chuck carried their tray to an out of the way booth. Chuck passed out the sandwiches and fries, making sure to give her a napkin and straw. Sarah tried to pace herself, not wanting to let on how hungry she really was. They ate in silence, listening to the music play over the speaker system and the murmur of other customers from around the restaurant. Both stole furtive glances at the other, quickly looking away to avoid notice, and failing miserably. That back and forth went on for several minutes, neither knowing exactly what to say to the other.

"So… what do you want to do about the car?" Chuck finally asked, breaking the silence as he dredged one of his fries in ketchup. Sarah puffed up her cheeks and blew out a breath, secretly thankful for the reprieve from the awkward silence.

"I have no idea. That car's likely a lost cause. Even if it could be fixed, I…" she trailed off, playing with the straw in her drink cup.

"Right," Chuck replied, seeming to understand what she wasn't saying. "How about this? We can't just leave it on the side of the road. I'll have a tow truck pick it up and store it until you can figure out what you want to do with it. If you want to junk it, then they can pay you salvage for it. If not, we can see about getting it fixed."

"What? No! Chuck, I can't let you do that. This isn't your problem to deal with. I'm not some… some charity case, OK? I don't need you to come in here and 'rescue' me," she rushed out, her anger growing. Chuck sat back in shock, his eyes wide as saucers.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to … I just figured it was Christmas and everyone could use a little kindness. I didn't mean to offend you," he admitted, sounding properly chastised. Sarah leaned her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands. She was angry at the situation she was in, frustrated with the life she'd been living, and when someone tried to show her some kindness, she bit his head off. She was really a mess. She had kept it all bottled up until it finally popped, as it just did, and Chuck was collateral damage. She felt like such an ass.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, sliding her hands up and running them through her hair as she sighed in exasperation. "You were just trying to be nice and I blew up at you."

"It's OK. I get it. I overstepped my bounds," he admitted, shaking his head at both her apology and himself.

"No. I've just had a really shitty day. I…" Sarah hesitated, uncertain if she should burden him with her problems. Sure, he'd already invited himself into her problems, at least one of them. Maybe having someone to vent her frustrations to could be cathartic.

"I lost my job this morning," she confessed, staring at her drink cup.

"Oh, no," Chuck gasped. "Right before Christmas? I'm so sorry." Sarah expected him to go on and tell her how it would all be OK, but he stayed silent, just waiting for her to continue.

"Yeah. Cut backs and all that. Anyway, I packed what I had and figured I'd head to a new town; start over again. You see how well that turned out. The truth of the matter is, I don't have enough money to fix that car. Even if I did, you saw it. It's a piece of crap. Basically I'm stuck here with no car and nowhere to go."

"Wow," he whispered. "And I thought I had problems," he said, snorting in disbelief. "What about your family? I know, you said it's complicated, but is that where you were going? Could they offer any help?"

Sarah shook her head, giving him a sad smile. "What family I have, I haven't talked to in years. I don't even know if they want to see me. We had what you might call a … falling out. I don't know if I'm ready to face her."

"Her? Your mother?" Chuck asked sympathetically. Sarah looked perplexed at how he had guessed that. "I figured it's either your mother or your sister. I had a fifty-fifty shot," he confessed with a shrug.

"Yeah. My mom," she relented, turning her cup in circles between her fingers. "That's a long story in itself. Enough about me, though. What about you? Are you heading out of town to see family? Maybe some rendezvous with your girlfriend?" Chuck barked out a laugh at her question, startling her slightly.

"Most definitely not. No rendezvouses of any sort. That would require someone to rendezvous with, which is largely my problem," he huffed out a single note chuckle. Sarah hummed in confusion, giving Chuck a curious look.

"It's the classic case of boy meets girl, girl meets boy's roommate, girl and roommate consummate their relationship in boy's bed while he's at class. I'm sure you know the story." Sarah shook with stifled laughter at his comedic delivery, even though the underlying story was pretty terrible.

"I'm sorry. That's terrible."

"Yeah. Well, that was years ago. Since then, I haven't really been … motivated to start another relationship. I buried myself in work, barely coming up for air. Ellie - that's my sister- she's constantly trying to get me back out in 'the game'. She tries to set me up on dates with her co- workers or college friends, she signs me up on dating sites and badgers me relentlessly about finding someone. And my mom's not much better. It's exhausting. Don't get me wrong, I know they mean well, and it comes from a place of love, but I'm just so tired of them pushing this on me. And now, I'm on my way to spend the next week with them. So, yay!" he exclaimed with mock excitement.

"I suppose the plus side of being estranged from my family is that I don't have to deal with that," she said, giving a weak smile as she played with her straw.

"I'm sorry. I must sound like such a whiny, little shit over here, rambling about my problems. I shouldn't complain."

"No. Hey, it's not a competition. Everybody's situation is different. It doesn't necessarily mean that one person's situation sucks any more or less than another. It's just a different kind of suck…" After a moment's pause, both Chuck and Sarah burst into laughter, nearly brought to tears. Once they calmed and a silence settled over them, Chuck collected their trash and disposed of it before returning to his seat.

"So, about the car," he began. "Will you please let me help you? I can call a tow truck to pick it up and if you want to scrap it, we can make that happen. Consider it a small Christmas present," he pleaded, with his hands clasped together and a child-like pouty expression. Inwardly, Sarah was grateful for the help but felt guilty for wanting to accept it. Offering to do this for her under the guise of a Christmas gift gave her an easy excuse to let him help her without feeling quite so bad about it. Even though she hated to owe people favors, she suspected that Chuck wouldn't be the type to expect anything in return.

"Alriiiight," she groaned with faux exasperation. "Thank you." The smile that lit up his face warmed her deep inside, causing a smile to break out across her face as well. Without wasting a moment, Chuck pulled out his phone and started typing away. After a few seconds he placed the phone to his ear and waited.

"Hi. Yeah. I need a car towed… Yep. It's on the 5, northbound, a couple miles south of Lyons avenue exit. Sure. It's an older beige… well, sort of beige, Civic. Uh huh. Oh, really! That fast? Oh. Cool. OK. Well, we can meet you at your garage in about… an hour?" he asked, looking at Sarah for confirmation. Seeing as she was a captive audience, she didn't have much choice but shrug with a "don't look at me" expression. "Alright. Thanks."

"So, we've got an hour to kill. What d'you say we go do some window shopping while we wait?" he asked with a hopeful look.

"Well, I have no place to be and no way to get there, so, I'm at your mercy." Chuck's face dimmed at her comment and she realized her attempt at humor had fallen a little flat. Without thinking she reached across the table and took hold of his wrist. "That was my failed attempt at a joke. A leisurely walk sounds good." Chuck's smile returned as he let out a soft chuckle. She could feel his pulse under her fingers, strong and steady. When he looked down at where her hand was placed, she could swear that his pulse quickened slightly. Perhaps it was just her imagination. She was not normally a "touchy feely" kind of person, but the warmth of his skin felt oddly comforting. Realizing it was getting more than a little awkward, she released her grip on him and grabbed her cup and purse.

"Ready to go?" she asked. Sarah didn't wait for a response before standing, finishing her drink and disposing of the cup. Chuck was quick to follow and they made their way to his car.


A/N: So, not such a happy, Christmas-ey feel so far. We'll get there, don't worry.

As always, I like to hear from you if you can spare a couple minutes to leave a review or send a PM.

Until next time.

JW