A/N: You folks are thirsty, holy hell I opened up my email and saw almost 50 reviews. First of all, I love you. Secondly, I am trying to get this out to you as fast as I can because I recognize thirst when I see it, okay? WOW. I mean, THANK YOU. But WOW.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. I'm not making a cent from writing this story.
Okay, so she'd changed her mind.
Going home and hiding her feelings in a glass of gin with one cube of ice before falling into bed and passing out until she had to get up for work the next day had been the plan she'd settled on before she'd gotten onto that bus.
But then a couple had argued, she'd shared a giggle with a stranger at their expense, and then he'd jumped in to try to stop the fisticuffs from happening, only to have a blow land on him.
Best of all, the short conversation she'd had with him on the bus post-skirmish had set her at ease for the first time in… Well, who was she kidding? For the first time in days.
She'd been on edge throughout this freaking difficult case. And her superiors weren't helping at all, and Graham was on her ass about everything lately.
Just sitting and laughing and talking with someone who knew nothing about her, nothing about her job, nothing about where she'd come from, felt really, really good. And as they got off the bus, she remembered the bar she'd gone to on a blind date a few months earlier. And while the guy hadn't been great, the drinks had been.
And she'd decided that more than she needed gin alone in her apartment, she needed the comforting feeling of having this guy smile at her, the pleased look on his face when he made her laugh, and the way he could take teasing on the chin without being offended or turning to stone.
So no more bus to home and wallowing in her shitty day alone.
She'd sit at a bar with this tall, curly haired guy who knew the name of Thor's hammer for some reason.
And he definitely was tall.
She had heels on and he still towered above her by a good couple of inches. That was saying something because she was well above the average height herself.
"Is this crazy?" she found herself asking then, before she thought to stop the words from coming out of her mouth. "I mean, our bus is gonna pull up in a couple of minutes and we aren't getting on it. Instead, we're…doing this."
"It's not crazy," he said, shaking his head. "It's…an adventure. We both had a path we were on, Brett and Tammy shook things up, and now we're wandering away from the path and…exploring. A bar. Exploring a bar."
She laughed. "I like the way you say that."
"Really?" he asked with teasing surprise. "I have a lot more I could say if you liked that. Stuff about fate intervening in the form of an almost cartoonishly dysfunctional couple…"
Grinning, she let out another giggle and let him open the door to the bar for her. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
As she stepped inside, she scanned the place for a table or a spot at the bar. The place was pretty packed, but she saw a small round table in the corner that was vacant. She grabbed her companion's wrist and pulled him through the room, shifting so that she was holding his hand instead. She bit her lip at the way his fingers squeezed hers, trying to focus instead on getting to the table before anyone else snagged it.
"Victory!" he cheered as they got to the table. "Good eye there."
"Thank you." She grinned. "What'll you have to drink?" He looked like he was going to protest. "No, sit. I insist. You're starting a new job. Let me help you celebrate."
He grinned at her, then glanced down at the chair, before relenting and sitting. "Are you sure? That's really nice of you, and unnecessary."
"Come on. You did something selfless tonight and got knocked on your ass for it. You deserve it. The drink, not the slap."
He laughed. "Okay, I'll relent. Thank you." She nodded. "Uh, I'll go for a rye whiskey. Couple shots."
She raised her eyebrow. "Good show. Okay, I'll be back."
As she moved away from the table to smash her way in between folks to get to the bar and order drinks, she wondered at the way he only pushed back a little when she offered to buy the drinks. It wasn't a bad thing. It was just surprising. In her experience, there was no in between. Either guys refused to let her pay for anything ever, which was annoying, or they did the polar opposite, which was not paying for anything at all because they knew she was a prosecuting lawyer at a successful private law firm and made pretty good money, and that was also annoying.
She also thought about the welt on his face. It wasn't as bad as it had looked on the bus. It was slowly fading now. Maybe it was just the lighting in the bar.
Either way, after she paid for her gin and soda and his whiskey, she asked for a small bag of ice.
She allowed herself to take him in as she weaved her way through the bar with their drinks, moving slowly to give herself a little more time to study.
He had a really attractive profile. She wasn't ready for it, actually. She genuinely wasn't ready for him to be this attractive. Part of her wondered if it was the bar lighting. But the date she'd had in here the last time was with a pretty objectively handsome man, and the lighting hadn't done anything for him. Granted, it might have been that his personality had been what hadn't done anything for him.
Or rather, it hadn't done anything for her.
She could admit—to herself at least—that this guy was absolutely doing something for her.
As he sat there drumming his fingers on the table to the jazz music, typing something on his phone with his other hand. She wondered where he'd been going when he got onto that bus.
She was observant. She read people. She'd learned how to read people from her father, and then getting into the law business had only honed her skills that much more.
He'd frozen for a second out by the bus stop when she'd asked him if he wanted to get a drink with her. Sure, maybe part of it was surprise. She'd caught his self-deprecation on the bus, too. Most of it seemed like it was him teasing with her, but he also seemed to have something of a lack of self-esteem, maybe. As if he couldn't figure out why she would ask him to get a drink with her.
But she had a pretty good feeling he was skipping out on something else, something he'd put that nice dress shirt, black tie, and blazer on for. And he was skipping out on it because she'd invited him to a bar for a drink. She hoped it wasn't anything important.
And then at the same time, she didn't really care that much, did she? She cared a little, she wasn't totally self-centered. But he was here with her and she was glad.
She also wasn't really sure what to do with that. After only a short conversation on a bus, he'd thrown whatever it was he had to do, the thing he'd thought about for a second before he'd accepted her offer, to the side and had walked to the bar with her.
Maybe she wasn't alone in this situation. Did she set him at ease too, she wondered?
But then he jumped a little as she came back to the table, hit send on a text, and pocketed his phone again, gulping loud enough for her to hear. …Maybe she didn't set him at ease?
"Hi. Hey. Oh wow, those look great. Here." He stood up and met her part of the way, taking the drinks from her and going back to their table to set them down at their respective seats. "What's that for?" he asked as they both settled in the chairs opposite one another.
"It's for you!" She thrust it out across the table at him. "Put it on your face."
"Oh! Hey, thanks! Nice of you to think of it." And then he pressed the ice up against his cheek and sighed, his eyelids fluttering. His groan was timed just as she was taking a sip of her drink and she swallowed it wrong, coughing a bit. He didn't notice, thankfully, off in his own world with his bag of ice against his cheek. "That's so goooood," he groaned.
He needed to stop doing that.
Stat.
He took it off then and opened his eyes, grinning and grabbing his drink to sip it. "Oh God, I'm so glad I said yes to you. I feel like a whole weight's off my shoulders now."
"A weight? Did you also need a drink this bad?"
He smacked his lips a bit and nodded. "Yes. That."
She had a feeling it wasn't just that, but it wasn't her business.
"But what about you? You sound like your day was pretty awful. I take it the day was bad even before the car battery mishap."
Apparently he didn't mind digging into her business though. And for some reason, she wasn't mad about it. She didn't get why. She would normally be mad about it. Maybe she was just mad about too many other things and this guy was a breath of fresh air, something she didn't have to be mad about. Finally.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, draining a third of her drink and then setting the glass down hard on the wooden table, making the flame of the candle between them quiver.
"It's just…" She paused, looking him in the eye for a moment. And then she continued. "I'm trying to do everything all at once. And I think I'm maybe driving myself a little nuts with the stress of it all. Maybe giving myself too much to do," she said honestly, "because that's how I've always been. I've always functioned full-throttle, firing on all cylinders, go go go go go…I think I'm going to just break eventually. I'll hit my breaking point and snap, I swear. I know I must be slipping, too, because work has been especially difficult the last few weeks and my boss has really been on my ass. Today, especially, he was just…a complete bear."
He hissed through his teeth and frowned. "Crap. I've had bear bosses. I get ya. And I'm sorry for what you're dealing with."
"Thank you. It's okay. A lot of it is my own doing. I'm sure a lot of people have had bosses that single them out and push them harder than everyone else. I know, I know," she rushed when he raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to respond. "If he's pushing me harder than everyone else, it's a compliment because it means he expects more from me, holds me in high regard…or whatever. That may be true. I dunno." She propped her chin in her palm and leaned her elbow on the table, sighing wistfully. "I'm just…I don't know. I don't know what to say. It was just one of those long, rough days. And then my car breaking and needing to get it towed to a mechanic, then hearing that I won't even get a diagnosis let alone have it back to drive until sometime tomorrow. Blah." She waved her other hand through the air and rolled her eyes.
He set down the bag of ice and pushed his chair back from the table, standing up. "Is that gin or vodka?"
She blinked, looking up at him. "Gin and soda. What are you—?"
But he just walked to the bar, pulling his wallet out of his pants pocket and getting the bartender's attention.
Sarah just watched, pretty sure she knew what he was doing. And, much to her surprise, she thought for the first time tonight that she was pretty glad she managed to get on the bus she'd gotten onto. At the time she'd gotten onto it.
Smiling down at her gin and soda, swirling the ice a bit as she took another sip, she decided it probably wouldn't be the last time she'd think that tonight.
Glancing back up at him again, she saw him pocket his wallet again and pick up a drink that looked exactly like the one she already had. She grinned at him as he crossed the bar back to their table, knowing exactly what he was doing now.
He thunked the glass down next to the one she was still drinking. "There. Drink up."
As he sat down again, she shook her head at him. "You didn't have to do that."
"Maybe I didn't have to, but somebody did. And I'm the one who's here right now."
"I'm glad," she said immediately. "I'm glad you are. And thank you," she said quickly, tucking her blond hair behind her ear. "For the drink. That was sweet."
"You're welcome. It was nothin'." He picked up his own drink and sipped it.
Sarah's eyes fell to the bag of ice on the table, noting that it was starting to melt. Sighing and rolling her eyes a little, she scooted her chair around the table a bit so that she was sitting closer to him and she picked up the bag, pressing it gently against his cheek and holding it there.
He froze, and she almost took her hand back, but then the tension in him eased, and he didn't seem all too uncomfortable. She decided he was just caught by surprise again.
Why were men like this? When she was a kid and then a teenager, her father had been so bad with icing the knots on his head that angry bookies would put there. He'd just shrug and say he'd forgotten about it.
"You're a bad patient," she chided this guy now, smirking to lave the bite. "The ice isn't going to help you if it's sitting on the table."
"Oh, good point. It's really cold."
"Yes, well. It's ice."
"You're just made of good points tonight, aren't you?"
"I oftentimes am. Only it's rarely noticed."
"I noticed."
"Thank you." She giggled, feeling that dastardly blush rise to her face again. She shifted the ice against his cheek gently and wondered why he hadn't taken it from her to hold there himself. And then she didn't wonder. Considering he was almost leaning into it, his weight against her hand. She wasn't sure what to do with that, so she decided to just enjoy it, and the implications that went with it.
And then she giggled as a thought struck her.
"What?" he asked, smiling.
"I'm just wondering how many people in this bar seeing me holding this ice to your cheek would assume that I'm the one who slapped you."
His eyebrows shot into his hairline, and then his face broke into a grin, his nose wrinkling. He laughed. "You might be right. Somebody's thinking that somewhere in here."
"Now I'm trying to imagine a reason why I would do that."
"Oh? Well, what'd you come up with?"
"Nothing," she said quietly. "I've only known you for about forty-five minutes or so and I've got nothin'."
"What you're saying is that mine is not a slappable face…" he announced diplomatically.
"What I'm saying is I like you." She watched the stages of the slow, awed smile stretch over his lips, the light ignite in his handsome features. "I don't hit people I don't like, let alone people I like."
"That's a good policy," he said warmly, leaning closer to her, his arms folded on the table in front of him. "And for the record, I like you too."
She heard the telltale sound of a phone buzzing and knew it wasn't hers. He apologized and dug in his pocket as she pulled the ice away from his face to give him room. And then she watched as he tugged the phone out and glanced at it. He winced and set it down on the table.
He looked decidedly sheepish.
}o{
Shit, he was in trouble.
Morgan was never going to let him live this one down.
He glanced at the text again. "Dude you promised. You promised you'd do this. And now you're bailing? The hell dude? You're ruining this for me." Another text came in then. "You're making me look like a jackass. Angie is gonna hate me."
"Everything okay?"
Chuck lifted his head to look at her and turned his phone over on the table. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Yeah. It's fine."
For now, the important thing was that she'd just told him she liked him. Unprompted. And he wouldn't mind it if she picked up that ice and held it to his face again. But that seemed now like a one-time deal, so instead he picked it up himself and held it to his cheek.
"You sure?" she prompted, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
He winced and sighed. "I mean, it probably isn't…right now. But it will be later." Morgan would get it. He'd totally get it if he knew. This was that sort of once in a lifetime situation Morgan would explode with excitement over. And when Chuck explained later, he'd understand. Probably. Maybe.
Hopefully.
She pulled back a bit and looked at the door to the bar. "Do you have to go—"
"No, no. No, no, no. I'm good. I'm good here. I don't have to go. Unless you have…"
"I don't," she said, shaking her head. "Anyway, I've got another drink to finish."
"There's still some in that one," he teased, poking the first glass.
"That's just melted ice," she explained with a shrug. And then she smirked and shook her head, grabbing the glass and pounding said melted ice, even slipping one of the still solid cubes between her lips into her mouth and munching it a bit. "There. Feel better?"
"I feel great. How 'bout you?"
She gave him a slow smile. "Much better, thank you." Then her eyes flicked to his phone again. "Do you need to text someone back? Or call them? It's okay, I won't be offended."
He didn't want to. In fact, he wanted to lean in a little more and just bask in the warmth and comfort of this moment, of her presence. He felt like he was taking full breaths for the first time since he made the madcap decision to leave his old job, move out of his poorly located apartment, and dive headfirst into a profession that was still just finding its legs in this technological age. He was constantly afraid, each step he took uncertain.
For once, he'd taken a step he was certain about, that left him feeling good and comfortable immediately. He'd decided to come into this bar, with this woman, to sip this drink. And he just felt settled and calm and…genuinely good.
But the look she was giving him made him decide he really should take this opportunity to text Morgan back. Ignoring him was wrong. He'd be a terrible friend. Even more terrible than he already was, the way he was bailing on the blind double speed dating.
Sighing, he nodded and picked up his phone. "Lemme just text my buddy back real quick. I'm really sorry."
"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere just yet." She sipped her drink and smiled.
Grinning, he pulled up the text again and reread it.
The grin died as he thought of how to respond. He settled on the truth. He wasn't going to lie to his best friend. So he replied back: "I'm really sorry Morgs. I'm so so so sorry. But I was on the bus and I'll tell you the whole story when I see ya but this INCREDIBLE WOMAN has asked me to get a drink with her. You have no idea just how incredible she is. And GORGEOUS. I couldn't say no. I can't explain in text but I have to see this out. I have this feeling deep in my soul that I'd regret it my whole life if I didn't. AND SHE LIKES ME MORGAN. SHE SAID THOSE WORDS!"
He hit send and wondered if it was enough. Would he still be pissed if he got a text like that from Morgan when he was relying on him to show up?
He felt selfish. He really did. And he'd have to make it up to Morgan, especially if this ended up being what made Angie brush Morgan off. And now he felt extra bad thinking about the potential of that happening. He was potentially ruining Morgan's chances with a woman he really liked so that he could have his own experience with a woman. What made him more important than Morgan? Damn…
"You look miserable. What happened?" she asked, one hand sliding over his.
Chuck looked up at her, a bit surprised by the fact that there was more concern than curiosity. Then again, this was the same woman who'd swept to his rescue when he'd accidentally gotten slapped to the ground by a very angry, vengeful, and misleadingly small woman on the bus.
He shook himself a bit. "Oh. No, it's not that big of a—" He sighed heavily and shrugged, deciding he'd been honest with her from the beginning and he might as well keep going. "I may have done something…bad." He wrinkled his nose and pressed his lips together tight.
She raised her eyebrow. "Really? Bad, huh? What'd you do?"
"I…" Should he tell her? And then he thought, what the hell did he have to lose? "My best buddy begged me to go to this speed dating thing tonight because he has someone there he wants to set me up with. A friend of a girl he's trying to get with. I'm basically a prop so he can spend time with a woman he likes a whole lot, but the prop isn't showin' up tonight." He winced.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Because the prop is here drinking at a bar with me?" she asked. "Oh… That was where you were going when you got on that bus, huh?"
"Yep. I'm in a bit of trouble. Not a lot. He'll be fine. …Er, eventually. But I, um, I'm gonna have to make this up to him." He realized belatedly how what he'd done would make him look to the woman sitting more next to him than across from him now with all the scooting they'd done and the ice holding. "Just for the record, this is not something I do normally. Like, this isn't a usual thing for me. I don't…um…"
"Ditch people?" she asked. He couldn't read her face and it was worrying him.
"No. I really don't. Especially not my best friend. But I wanted to have a drink with you. I couldn't…not. I mean, I'll be honest. I really, really wasn't looking forward to speed dating tonight. And I dunno, why not just a blind date? Why do I have to meet this woman at speed dating? I just don't understand the whole concept."
She bit her lip and nodded slowly. "The concept of speed dating, you mean…"
"Right. That. I think this place we were going to has a two minute time limit. And that's just not enough. It's nothing! How do you find your soulmate in a two minute conversation?"
That made her giggle. "You're not supposed to know they're your soulmate after two minutes of chatting. Wouldn't it be more like you talk to them…maybe you click a little in that time, you exchange phone numbers after, and then you go on a date just the two of you, have a much longer conversation, and then…if things go well, and you continue having good conversations and clicking. Maybe later the soulmate thing happens. I guess. I don't know. I wouldn't know. What I do know, however, is that you bailed on plans with your best friend to come in here and have drinks with me…"
Chuck nibbled on his lip. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."
"Why?" she asked, tilting her head, sipping her drink. He didn't respond because he didn't know how to. The actual truth was way too honest for someone he'd just met less than an hour ago. "I mean, you got bitch slapped in front of me so I get how that sort of connected us in a certain way. On a deeper level."
Chuck burst into laughter. "Bitch slapped? Really? Damn. Daaammmmn." She giggled with her tongue between her teeth. "Well, I was gonna say that I bailed on my best bud and speed dating because you asked me to get a drink with you and I find you… particularly likable, I guess. But now, I'm not gonna say that."
She giggled harder and propped her elbow on the table again, her chin in her palm, causing her to lean in closer to him. "Opened my big mouth…"
"Seriously." He chuckled and shook his head. "Look, it just felt like I had a million thoughts flash through my brain in, like, a two second period of time. And the biggest thing was that I didn't want this to be the thing I wondered about for the rest of my life." She furrowed her brow questioningly. "You know in the movies… those 'what if' moments. You know? What if he asked that girl out all those years ago? Maybe his life would've turned out different. Better. And he thinks about it for the rest of his life, in those quiet moments, right before falling asleep or on vacation with his boring family looking at…Mt. Rushmore. I don't know what I'm even saying."
She grinned at him. "Was I a potential 'what if' moment?"
At least she was amused rather than intimidated or nervous, he supposed. And he liked the sound of her laugh, how she looked when she was smiling, and God, that sparkle in her eyes.
"I mean, yeah. We had a, um, a moment in that bus. The slap connection aside. Didn't we? Or am I the only one? You can tell me if I'm totally off base, here. It's o—"
"You're not," she interrupted steadily, shaking her head. She bit her lip. "There was…something. Is something."
He wasn't sure if smiles could break faces, but he knew that if his face pulled through the current smile he was smiling, the answer was definitely no.
"And that's why I bailed on my best friend."
"And speed dating. That's obviously the more important part of it."
"Yes, of course." He chuckled.
"What if that girl you're supposed to meet at speed dating, the one your friend was trying to set you up with… what if she was the 'what if' moment?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Ooooo…"
"I know, deep, huh?" she teased.
"That was pretty good." He took a drink and leaned even closer. "She's not. I know it."
"How can you know something like that?"
"Because I've met you and I'm almost one hundred percent sure there is no one in Los Angeles, California, the country…quite possibly the whole world, maybe even the universe…who is…who is…" He searched for the word as she waited patiently.
And then her patience seemed to run out. "Who is what?"
"You." He shrugged. She gave him a funny look. "Sorry, that's all I got."
That made her laugh. "I have news for you. It's a lot better than what other guys have got."
Chuck sent her a bit of a wide eyed look at that and she merely shrugged and took another sip of her drink. "Sorry I wasn't super truthful when you asked if I had something else going on and I said no."
"Don't say sorry to me," she laughed. "You're here. You're having a drink with me. I'm fine. You probably should apologize to your friend, though. And the, uh, woman you stood up."
"Okay, I don't even know if she was into the idea herself. Knowing my friend, he probably had this woman he's interested in drag her friend into the situation, too."
"Is that what you're going to tell yourself to feel less guilty?"
"Yep."
They laughed together and he shook his head. "I definitely feel guilty, and I feel like I was selfish, but… This? Sitting here? Having a drink and talking with you? It's worth it." She bit her lip, just watching him quietly, a small smile on her face. "I guess what I'm saying is… I'm okay with being bad just this one time. I accept the consequences of my actions."
Her giggle was a bit deeper this time, and her eyes drifted down from his eyes to his lips. He saw it clear as day before she turned her gaze back to her drink. "Anybody ever tell you that you have a way with saying exactly the right thing?"
"God no," he chuckled. "Nobody has ever told me that because I don't. My way with words is nonexistent. It doesn't exist. I say some of the dumbest—I mean, I just let loose sometimes and then it's embarrassing for everybody. I mean, I ramble. A lot. All the time."
"Like now?"
"Uuuuh…" He winced, blushing a bit as she giggled.
"I'm just flirting with you, Chuck. You aren't rambling. You're…actually really sweet."
"It might be both."
"Maybe."
"There's nothing I can do about it. It just happens. The filter dies, I get nervous or embarrassed or something, and I just launch into rambles for days and nothing can stop it."
"Nothing?" she asked.
}o{
The look he gave her was part confusion, part awe. "Very few things," he breathed. And then he swallowed hard.
"Like what?" she asked, purposely clicking the "t" at the end and leaning in even closer.
"Ice cream. Ice cream will shut me right u—Ah! Hey!"
She burst into laughter, totally surprised by the twist, going so far as to push at his shoulder with her hand.
Sarah Walker had never met anyone like this. And sure, he'd burst the bubble of flirtation and the tension that had settled between them. The good kind of tension that made your toes curl.
But it was just so refreshing, the way he chose making her laugh and keeping her on her toes over what had to be obvious to him was happening.
"What'd I say?" he teased, chuckling with an innocent look on his face.
He could tease, joke around, and do whatever else to keep her on her toes, but she had her own way to keep him on his toes and she wasn't beating around the bush about it.
Instead, she gave him a momentary look, then slid in against him, slipping a hand around the back of his neck, and leaning up to press her lips against his.
She felt him freeze and took it as maybe a bad sign, so she pulled back again, blinking up at him, worried she'd just screwed up the whole thing. And now it was going to be awkward because this was a genuinely nice guy who would do whatever he could to avoid hurting her feelings.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, stopped himself, furrowed his brow, and just as she saw a hint of a smile pull at the corner of his mouth, he lunged for her, cupping her face in his hands and covering her mouth with his.
Sarah couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up and ended in the space between his lips. One of his hands slid down from her face to clutch onto her shoulder, pulling her in closer, and she felt his thumb stroke her through her work blazer like someone had trailed a lit match over her skin.
That smallest action, the stroke of his thumb, had her throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him harder.
They stayed that way, clinging, for as long as possible, until air became absolutely necessary. Only then did they break the kiss, just enough for Sarah to suck in a deep breath before his lips pecked hers again, and again. And a third time.
She giggled and pushed at his chest gently, beaming up at him.
Well.
Who'd known that the guy snickering and snorting behind her on the bus, with his mussed curls and knees sticking up as he tried to hide his laughter would make her insides quiver with just a touch of his lips against hers.
"Oh," he breathed.
She did her best not to laugh at how cute of a response to a sizzling hot kiss that was. Instead she just beamed harder. "Well, congratulations on that, young man," she drawled, biting her lip and pulling back just enough to fix her blazer.
He laughed, blushing bright. And then he covered his lips with his fingers and cleared his throat. "I, uh…Why'd you…I mean, what did I even do for you to wanna…?" He cleared his throat again, looking exceptionally pleased. She liked how pleased he looked. That he didn't try to hide it even a bit.
Sarah reached up and played with one of his curls. "You said you'd accept the consequences of your actions."
God, the smile on his face. Like he was about to shoot through the ceiling and blast into space he was so happy with her response. He was really good for her non-physical health, and maybe there was a mischievous, gluttonous voice deep down inside that suggested he'd be good for her physical health as well.
She didn't do that sort of thing, though.
Sarah Walker did not do that sort of thing.
It was asking for trouble.
"I accept them," he said then, and oh wow, he'd said it deep in his throat, like it had come from his chest or even lower than that. And then he closed the distance and kissed her again, this time softer, slower, allowing for her to taste him and really get a feel for his lips and…oh, tongue. That was fine. She was perfectly fine with this development.
Sarah shivered against him and broke the kiss herself, letting her fingers glide slowly down his jaw. "I think I need some fresh air," she found herself breathing.
"Me, too. Let's go."
"Yep."
They both got up from the table and Sarah grabbed her purse, allowing him to lead her out of the bar with his fingers just barely grazing against hers.
Cooler heads prevailed once they stepped outside and the air brushed over her overheated face and neck.
"It, um, it was warm in there, wasn't it?" he asked then, clearing his throat, looking like the cool air outside had brought him back down to the real world as well. "I mean, the temperature in the bar. Not…um…"
"Between us?" she asked, point blank.
"You…You don't beat around the bush, do you?" he asked, not seeming all that upset by it.
"I tend not to, no." She shrugged. "Still…there's a lot to be said for tact."
He smiled at her and shuffled his feet. "Okay, I'll play it your way. Here's me not beating around the bush." He cleared his throat and she waited with bated breath. "I do not want to get on that bus to my apartment. Not yet."
"Then we'll get on the bus to mine." Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Did she seriously just say that? Was she seriously grabbing his hand and pulling him down the sidewalk? And was he seriously going with her, walking in lockstep beside her?
"I-I, um, I don't…"
She stopped and turned to face him. "No?" And then she realized how intense she was being and she dialed it back, clearing her throat. "We don't have to go to my place. That's not…required…or anything. I just thought…Shit, I don't know what I thought."
"Are you a little…um…you feel like your feet aren't fully on the ground?"
"Yep."
"So not just me, then."
"No. Not just you."
"I would like to go to your apartment. If you're sure."
"I have more alcohol there." She shut her eyes and silently cursed herself. Neither of them gave a crap about alcohol and they both knew it. "I, uh, I mean, I…have alcohol and food and…um…a television with…passable cable."
"You'll be there, right?"
"Uh…yes?" She tilted her head, a little confused.
"Perfect. That's all I need."
Damn, he was good. "Damn, you're good."
"Am I? It felt a little cheesy once I said it."
She wrinkled her nose and tilted her head. "Oh, it was. And I liked it a lot."
He made a face. "Are you real? Am I asleep and this is just a really good dream?" he asked as she tucked her arm around his and led him along the sidewalk towards the bus stop.
"I am very real. And flawed. Just chock full of faults," she admitted, leaning into his side. "I laugh at people's marital woes, for one."
"Is that a fault?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I have that one too then."
For the first time since they left the bar, she realized he had the bag of ice still clutched between his fingers. And when they arrived at the bus stop, Sarah gently took the bag from his fingers and lifted it up to press it against his cheek again.
He just smiled softly at her. "You're good at this," he said quietly.
She gave him a confused look. "All I'm doing is holding this bag of mostly melted ice against your face."
"Nah, you're a real nurse."
Giggling, Sarah shook her head, moving in a bit closer and looking up into his face. "I wouldn't trust me in a hospital setting. I can do this, holding this ice to your face. That's easy enough. But no blood or needles."
"What about mouth to mouth resuscitation?"
She laughed. "That one was terrible."
"Yeah, I felt it."
They laughed together as she peered up into his face, nothing but the streetlight above them for lighting on a moonless night.
What in the hell was she doing? She had just invited a stranger to her home. And while she was fluent in three forms of martial arts and owned a gun she knew how to use—all of this a necessity for a prosecuting attorney in any big city—anyone outside of this situation would think she was absolutely crazy. Maybe she was absolutely crazy.
But she just couldn't let go of this sensation she'd been feeling since they were sitting on that bus, talking across the aisle. It was the same sensation that had caused her to invite him to get a drink with her instead of just going home to drink like she'd planned to, and drown the woes of the day in a giant glass of straight gin.
Seeking the company of someone else—someone like this guy—had been a much better option.
She was seeing clearly, she was thinking clearly… And she felt like she was finally breathing deeply.
God, her nerves had been shot for so long, her days harried, her nights sleepless. And these past few days, everything had seemed to pile up and she just couldn't catch up. She felt like a tiny dog with short legs trying to catch up to the big god with long legs, always lagging behind no matter how hard she worked.
Carina told her it wasn't sustainable, the way she overworked herself.
But Graham insisted she push herself a bit more.
And Diane just silently watched it all happened in that all-knowing way of hers. Though she did say she wanted to meet with Sarah one on one when she returned from her vacation. Whatever that would end up meaning.
She needed this time to step away from the trajectory of her life for a night, what with the way it was cascading forth towards the future at jet speed. If there was a wall somewhere up there, would she even see it in time, or would she slam into it and splatter everywhere?
Or could it be that this tall, curly-haired guy with his brown eyes and warm smile that wrinkled his nose when he smiled hard enough (which he often did), his sense of humor, his way with words, and his way with his lips… Could it be that this was going to prove to be one of those walls she was slamming into?
Would it be so bad? To slam into this guy?
Would she splatter?
"What're you thinking about?" He asked quietly, his hand landing on her arm and gently rubbing up and down. It felt comforting. "Your face got all…" He made an almost grumpy looking thoughtful face. "Like that."
"My face doesn't do that, so I think you're mistaken."
He chuckled. "Still…"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she drawled.
"Try me. Give me highlights."
"Uh, okay." She pursed her lips. "Jet speed and walls…and splattering into said walls."
He blinked. "I believe you, I'm just incredibly confused, but also very intrigued."
She giggled.
"You realize this is just cold water now, right?" She asked then, pulling the bag back and bouncing it a bit so it went glub glub glub.
"Oh. Lemme toss it."
"I've got it." She put her hand on his chest to keep him in place, then leaned around him and tossed the bag of water with a perfect underhand. It slipped between the grooves of the trashcan and plopped inside.
He turned back to her with wide eyes. "How did you do that?"
"I have a few hidden skillsets…"
"See, now I'm wondering if you're some kind of super spy and I'm being kidnapped."
She cracked up. "Uh…?" Her bus finally pulled up to the curb and they both moved towards it, his words not withstanding. "Maybe don't say the word 'kidnapped' to a girl who's just asked you—a stranger—to her personal home."
He winced and led her to a pairing of seats towards the back where it was a little more empty at this hour. They plopped down next to one another. "Sorry. Good point. Poorly framed joke."
She shook her head and reached up to twirl one of his curls around her finger. "It's okay, I'm just messing with you. If you tried anything, I know a lot of ways to kick your ass."
"Am I in a lot of trouble?"
"You might be…" She gave him the most flirtatiously potent look she had in her arsenal.
And the look she got back made her feel really good about the prospect of this sensation of being able to take deep, healing breaths continuing for at least a little while longer.
"I'm okay with that, weirdly enough."
"It's a little weird."
"But…you like it?" he tried, wrinkling his nose hopefully.
"Yes, I do." She giggled, leaning some of her weight against him.
"Feels like years ago, we were sitting in this same general area on the bus, getting yelled at for laughing at a melodramatic marital spat."
"Mhm. Naughty emojis," she murmured wistfully.
"Naughty emojis," he repeated through a chuckle. "What a time to be alive."
What a time, indeed.
A/N: Let's all just pretend those last two lines apply to their world and not ours, kay? Kay. We're agreed. Love you all, shower me with your thoughts on this story, more coming soon!
-SC