Ch 7 The Philly Philly
A/N: In my effort to avoid angst, I apparently stumbled face first into fluff. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. In canon, Chuck and Sarah always seemed to follow the rule of one step forward, two steps back. To avoid angst, this is more of a one step forward and one step back-or maybe just half a step back.
I'm still in the process of rewriting future sections of the story as I mucked about so much that I had Sarah disclosing her CIA past in two separate scenes. I wrote much of this late at night on a notepad kept on the nightstand, so when I realized that I needed to expand a section, I would write out more. This frequently resulted in having sections that I really liked, but that really didn't work together. The end result is a bit more Frankenstein than I would prefer, but hopefully it works out. It is looking like this will be 13 chapters plus an epilogue (assuming I ever get done rewriting so that I can put in the epilogue- or at least more than the one paragraph written so far that really needs a before and after explanation).
The following morning presented the opportunity for the public introduction of the new girlfriend of Charles Bartowski. As they had made their way back from Jessop's to the campaign headquarters, Sarah had read Chuck in on her cover story: Sarah Walker had known Chuck Bartowski back in California through a mutual friend from Stanford. The two had met in passing a few times over the years and she had learned about his heroism sweeping him up into presidential politics. She had traveled to the east coast in order to meet up with family and learned of the upcoming debate. While offering to volunteer for the campaign, Chuck had happened along and recognized Sarah. Without the distraction of having their mutual friend around, the two had realized the connection between them and had started dating, exclusively.
Chuck could easily imagine having met Sarah through his old roommate/fraternity brother Bryce. Bryce always did know all the great girls- the problem was that he also wound up being the one to date all of them. It was such a credible story that Chuck had to remind himself that it was just a cover- and the realization was deeply depressing. Ever since the debacle with Jill, Chuck hadn't dated. Truth be told he not only wasn't interested in dating, he had kept himself so occupied that he never even considered dating.
Sarah was able to arrange with the Secret Service to use her Porsche during the operation. She was looking forward to the upcoming drive into Philadelphia, although what she really wanted to do was to strap Chuck into the passenger seat of her 911 as they made their way up the Pacific Coast Highway from Los Angeles to Napa with the top down. Focus Walker. Mission. Philadelphia. Breakfast fundraiser, not a quaint bed & breakfast in Napa with visits to a nearby vineyard with its own spa.
"Um, Sarah? Why did you just program Napa into the SatNav? We're expected in Philadelphia and it would be pretty tough to make the breakfast with a detour like that. Not that I couldn't use a little downtime, and a visit to California would be-as Devon likes to say- awesome."
"Sorry. I got distracted thinking about…well, never mind that. I've got the address here. We've got plenty of time to make it up to Philadelphia. No worries."
With Sarah behind the wheel, the early morning trip into Philadelphia was quick. The breakfast fundraiser was an important opportunity for Chuck to meet with the major Democratic contributors in the area. Chuck wasn't quite sure how long the trip had lasted as he had quickly discovered that it was far more tempting to watch Sarah as she drove instead of checking his watch or even looking out of the window.
Two days earlier, he had looked forward to the drive as a way to see the area up close, as opposed to flying overhead in an airliner. Today, he didn't mind not seeing a bit of the scenery. Although, the secondary reason for not looking out of the windshield was the fact that Sarah was rather terrifying driver. She was highly skilled, and was clearly enjoying the drive. But the high speeds and aggressive tactics were not what Chuck was used to when driving himself around Burbank in his Yaris. A bonus was that it gave him an excuse to watch Sarah that didn't seem quite as stalker-ish as finding watching her to be relaxing.
Before he knew it, they had gone from New Castle onto I95, crossed quickly into Pennsylvania. Sarah exited (at high speed) from I95 to the Schuylkill Expressway before arriving at one of the Boathouse Row rowing clubs on Kelly Drive located in the early morning shadows of the Art Museum. As Sarah pulled the car to a stop outside of the boathouse hosting the breakfast fundraiser, she marveled at the natural beauty of the location. "It is so calm and peaceful here. It's hard to believe that we're tucked away in the heart of one of the biggest cities in the country, surrounded by nearly six million people."
Chuck took a moment to enjoy the natural beauty of the scene, noting how the bike/jogging path wove through the trees as it tracked the river heading upstream. A woman was rowing a single scull past them on the river, the oars silent as they slid in and out of the water, powering her upstream in defiance of the swift current.
Turning back to Chuck, she commented, "So, the plan is for me to pose as your girlfriend, just to be near your side as you mix and mingle. I'll just stay quiet and out of the way, but be on hand in order to be able to stop any threat directed towards you."
Chuck shot Sarah a bemused look, "Seen but not heard? You do realize that this is the 21st century? Girlfriends are permitted to have their own opinions. Wives too from what I hear."
Sarah bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. "What if my opinion differs from yours?" She shot back.
"Good," Chuck said earnestly, the humor gone from his expression. "By defending our own opinions, we get to see if they are really the right ones. If no one challenges our opinions, how are we to be stopped from making mistakes?"
"Challenging opinions isn't exactly encouraged in my line of work," Sarah replied simply.
"Your boss is threatened by having his opinions challenged by his best agent?" Chuck asked, shocked and decidedly less than impressed with what he was learning about the CIA Director. Then again, if he won, the DCI serves at the pleasure of the President… "But what is to stop your boss from making a big mistake if his opinion is wrong or not fully formed?"
"Nothing, Chuck," Sarah somberly replied. "Nothing at all."
As they approached the front door to the boathouse hosting the fundraiser, Chuck reached out to catch Sarah's hand. "Sarah, before we head in," Chuck started before pausing as if to bolster his courage, "seeing as how we are telling everyone that you are my girlfriend, I thought it would be appropriate for you to wear this." He reached into a backpack he had stowed at his feet in the car and pulled out a blue velvet jewelry bag. Gently tugging on the drawstrings, Chuck reached inside and removed a silver charm bracelet. Sarah was so surprised by the gesture that before she had even processed what was going on, he had reached out and clasped it around her wrist. From the weight, Sarah could tell that it was solid silver. A few charms dangled down, glistening in the early morning sunshine.
Sarah instinctively knew that this wasn't some trinket that Chuck just had lying around. This was important, a significant gift that clearly had a backstory. She also knew that Chuck wasn't trying to use the jewelry to lay claim to her. This wasn't "you are mine". This was "you are special". This was also not coming off of her wrist –or at least not anytime soon.
The attendees were the scions of Main Line families, blue bloods of the party tracking their heritage back to colonial days. While Chuck was grateful for their attendance and support, he was certain that many of the power brokers were there only to hedge their bets and were also actively supporting the Bartlett campaign.
Sarah was a natural, working the crowd as he introduced her around. She seemed to know the background of each donor present. She was able to effortlessly link a policy of Chuck's campaign to an interest of each donor. Chuck quickly recognized that Sarah had not only studied up on each attendee to the fundraiser, but was also incredibly well versed on his own policy positions. It was not only impressive to watch, but also confusing at it meant that (a) she had been studying hard well before last night's cover proposal, and (b) the interaction with the donors was far more than her cover called for, and (c) it was far more than she had just said she was going to have before their discussion on opinions.
Thinking back to Agent Butterfield's proposal, the intimation was that Sarah would essentially portray arm candy. Staying close, but in the background in order to assess any potential threat. Yet here she was, doing more to ingratiate Chuck with the donors than he was able to do himself. He was grateful, and-truth be told-he was also more than a little turned on by the obvious intelligence she wielded. He smirked, thinking back to Sarah's claim that she would be seen but not heard. She was being heard, and she was definitely being seen. More than one donor had joked with Chuck about his inability to tear his eyes away from his beautiful date.
Chuck knew that he needed to get his head in the game. This was a breakfast fundraiser with some of the biggest names in the Democratic party. He needed to be dialed in on his discussions on how to use existing and emerging technologies to re-galvanize American industry, how to adjust the education system in order to prepare the next generation to be competitive in the global marketplace, while having a plan for increasing employment among the existing workforce to adapt to the current changes and changes yet to come.
But it was hard drum up his usual enthusiasm for the revolutionary potential for 3D printers across every business spectrum. The reason for his distraction was the beautiful yet enigmatic CIA turned temporary Secret Service agent who effortlessly managed to stay in close proximity to him, all the while enchanting the hell out of the political power brokers who were practically fawning over her. He had been eavesdropping on her conversations whenever possible.
Holy cow, was she good. She was discussing his ideas for economic revitalization way more articulately that he just had, while crediting him for the proposals. She seemed to know his campaign platform better than he did. Most of the donors were blown away by her intelligence and confidence. An (un)select few had been patronizing and dismissive, but she never lost her cool. Chuck noticed that the longer she spoke, the more the other members of the group would abandon their sexist and boorish colleagues as she calmly recited facts, figures and logical arguments in contrast to their drivel.
If they only knew the truth, they would be even more amazed at the incredible woman before them. Chuck had barely scratched the surface of her past the night before, but knew without a doubt that she had faced situations that would make every other person in the room flee in terror. Well, maybe not every person in the room. In the group Chuck was currently speaking with, there was an investment banker who had served in the military with multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Chuck had the distinct impression that nothing was taking place in the room that the soldier-turned-banker missed. He was also the only other man in the room to be appraising Sarah rather than ogling her.
Chuck also noted how Sarah always managed to place herself between him and the investment banker, ever vigilant to any potential threat. When the banker took a step to his left, Sarah shifted slightly to her right. With a brief nod and a grin that Chuck doubted anyone else even saw, the banker leaned forward and quietly said to Sarah, "Take good care of our boy here. He's got a lot of good ideas, and the country could do far worse." The banker then walked over the buffet to grab a bite to eat as the fundraiser wound down.
Before he realized it, Sarah was at his side, winding her left arm through the crook in his right arm. "So Mr. Bartwoski, what's next on your agenda?"
"Why do I suspect that you know my agenda better than I do? Or that you've likely read the history of every person who was here this morning or will be at the Constitution Center?" Chuck's grin was so broad that it bordered on goofy, taking any potential sting out of his words.
Sarah's response was a quick grin and a hip bump as she steered him out of the room, with Chuck shaking hands along the way.
Once the breakfast fundraiser was done, Sarah once again put the Porsche through its paces as they once again sped along Kelly Drive, looping around downtown as much as possible to avoid the center city congestion as they made their way across town to the National Constitution Center. Once they hit the cobblestone streets of the historical district, she had to ease up on the speed.
"So you are doing a photoshoot at the Constitution Center? I've seen most of your ads," Sarah stated factually, but with a questioning expression on her face. Chuck was slightly distracted by the realization that she had reviewed most (probably all) of his ads-again, not something that the cover called for. "Most of the time that there is an image of you, it's just a stock head shot in the background. Was the trip to the Constitution Center a chance for a photo op of you at a patriotic venue, or just because you are a history geek?"
"Nerd actually," Chuck stated. "We prefer nerd to geek. Besides, c'mon Sarah! Think about it. A couple of hundred years ago the Founding Fathers walked these same streets. Betsy Ross sewed the first flag right around the corner. This place is amazing!"
"Somehow I doubt they walked these same streets. After all, asphalt hadn't been invented in the 1700s. There's another reason for this trip, isn't there?" Chuck flushed as he tried to avoid eye contact with Sarah, which was difficult as he really didn't want to stop looking at her- especially when she was tossing around bits of historical trivia like that. She, however, stared him down, curious to see what was behind this trip. "Why the Constitution Center for the photoshoot?"
"Well, ah…you see…," Chuck stammered slightly as he scrambled to come up with an explanation while noticeably avoiding eye contact. "The opportunity to, you know…highlight a great public resource while-"
"Oh my god," Sarah laughed out, turning her head to stare at him with narrowed eyes-while also not showing any sign of slowing down or difficulty in negotiating the narrow side streets. Chuck was amazed at her ability to keep the car dead center in the lane while she looked directly at him. "You are totally using this 'photo op' as an excuse to check out the National Constitution Center. Is there even a photographer arranged? How did you manage to arrange for the private tour anyway? Not that I'm complaining. It would be a security nightmare otherwise, but this way it just gets to be the two of us on a da…Photo-op. On a photo-op." Chuck finally looked up to see a slight pink tinge to Sarah's cheeks. The two of us on a photo op? That's a weird way of describing it. Great work Agent Walker, Sarah chastised herself. Suddenly the street ahead seemed far more fascinating to Sarah as she now avoided eye contact with Chuck.
Realizing, belatedly, that he'd once again been staring at Sarah, Chuck shook his head to answer the question Sarah asked instead of wondering about the blush or what she might have also said. "No, it's…I…uh, so it turns out that Morgan knows a guy…" Chuck saw Sarah arch her right eyebrow at the mention of his best friend. Gah, is there anything that she does that isn't incredibly sexy and cool? "Hey, I saw that. No faith in my bearded little buddy? It turns out that one of his gamer buddies is a janitor there. But the administrators wound up being super cool and welcoming. Plus, the tour will let out right in time to…crap, I mean…um, to…"
Sarah was momentarily confused as to why Chuck was suddenly looking embarrassed yet again. She did a mental run down of the things to do in Philadelphia that would be perfect to do at midday on a Monday: Art Museum (or for Chuck at least the Rocky steps)? No, that's not a time specific activity, and it would have been walking distance from the breakfast meeting instead of driving across town and then right back again. Franklin Institute? Definitely nerdy enough for my Chuck, but again, not time specific. Rodin Museum? I would love it, but that doesn't really strike me as Chuck's kind of scene. Zoo? Again, not really a time specific activity. Unless…
"No," she murmured while staring at Chuck and smiling slightly. "You wouldn't."
"What?" Chuck asked while trying, and failing miserably, to look innocent.
"Did you seriously arrange for a breakfast fundraiser so that you could be done in time to do your history geek out, and then be done with the tour of the Constitution Center in time to get cheesesteaks for lunch?"
Damn, this woman was flat out brilliant. "You forgot to include the soft pretzels," Chuck said with an unrepentant grin. "Philly is famous for them too. I mean, c'mon Sarah! We're in Philadelphia, it's almost, kinda sorta lunchtime. We have to get cheesesteaks. It is our patriotic duty."
"Oh my god, don't tell me that's the reason why you hardly ate anything at the breakfast meeting? You were planning on cheesesteaks! This early in the day?"
"But Sarah, it's Philly. They're cheesesteaks. It would be un-American of me not to at least try one."
"Sure, we'll go with that. Un-American. Patriotic duty even. It's got nothing to do with that appetite of yours, does it?" At least the last line was delivered with a smile as they made their way to the employee entrance of the Constitution Center so that Chuck could do the tour in safety and privacy. Sarah evidently determined that, like the night before, walking arm in arm with Chuck would best project the image of the cover couple. However, Chuck also noted that, like the night before, her right hand was always kept free.
Sarah tried (and failed miserably) to keep a matching grin off of her own face at Chuck's childlike excitement as they entered the building. He looks pretty damned adorable-again. She briefly wondered how Ellie had ever managed to say no to Chuck growing up.
The Director for the Center herself met the two of them to lead the private tour for Chuck and his "girlfriend". Chuck's natural warmth and sunny personality quickly won over the staff-many of whom were locals. While Philadelphia can be a notoriously tough town, the locals saw how impressed Chuck truly was with the Center and noted his amazement with the area in general. He was able to hold his own while talking about Philadelphia, from the Revolutionary War days to the Industrial Revolution and its shipyards role in World War II. Chuck's enthusiasm was off the charts when a guide mentioned the significance of the local music scene from the 1950s to the punk era in the 1970s.
Everyone at the Center realized that Chuck was the real deal. Plenty of politicians and celebrities had showed up for a photo op and skipped the tour. Chuck and Sarah showed up for the tour and he tried to skip the photo op. The marketing director for the Center had tipped off a couple of local reporters, who got some candid shots of Chuck's fascination with the facility. While Chuck might be a long shot to win the presidency, the local press would run a story on the candidate being at the Center, which would lead to good PR.
Chuck went from display to display, soaking in all of the information like a sponge. At one point he turned to Sarah, "This is incredible. Did you know that Alexander Hamilton was just 21 years old in 1776? It's amazing that a lot of the Founding Fathers were younger than we are when they were drawing up the Declaration of Independence."
"You calling me old Bartowski?" Sarah replied with an arched eyebrow.
"No, ah, no! Not old. I wasn't… I didn't. What I meant to say was, just that…" Chuck stammered, trying to figure a way out of a hole he hadn't seen coming.
Sarah started laughing, "Relax Chuck. I'm teasing. But that was quite eloquent for a future leader of our nation." She not only loved teasing him, she loved the fact that he was impressed by the teasing rather than threatened or offended by what she said. Too bad your old fraternity brother couldn't have been more like that. But then again, if he had, I might not be here now. Nope, it's a good thing that Bryce never could recognize my sense of humor. A very good thing indeed.
"That's me. An articulate schnook," Chuck replied, looking more relieved than embarrassed. His eloquence was completely ruined when Sarah led him over to a display about Benjamin Franklin, without any hesitation reaching out with her left hand to take his hand and lead him across the hall. His focus was completely lost when she showed no intention of letting go of his hand once there. What was more confusing was that it appeared to have been an unconscious act on her part, as though walking hand in hand with him was a normal everyday occurrence.
Chuck couldn't figure out if this was a signal that Sarah really liked him, or if he had reverted to an awkward 13 year old version of himself trying to ascribe a girls intent by the slightest action or word. He winced as he recalled a particular incident in the eleventh grade when his skill at figuring out girls failed him in an epically spectacular fashion. Still, he wasn't sure if this was a real relationship, or if it was a fling under the cover of a cover. For the life of him, he didn't know how to broach that particular topic of conversation, so he resolved to take whatever he could get in terms of spending time with Sarah Walker.
Chuck was so animated as they walked through the exhibit, his eyes so alive with excitement. Sarah was perfectly happy to stand there and just listen to him talk. So open, so animated. So much the opposite from me. And with that particular thought came the realization that Chuck Bartowski was meant for a much different woman than her. She pasted a well-rehearsed fake smile on her face to keep Chuck from realizing the melancholy and gut wrenching sadness that momentarily overwhelmed her. They were good in the here and now, but how could she be with him in the future? Between her bloody past and her CIA career, how could they have anything resembling a normal relationship.
As they were nearing the end of the tour, Chuck's stomach let out a loud rumble, causing him to blush with embarrassment, and the Director to chuckle. Chuck told the Director of their plans to get their first Philly cheesesteaks.
"But Chuck, you can get cheesesteaks anywhere in the country," Sarah mentioned as they headed to her car.
When she saw the look of complete horror, she didn't know which she wanted to do more- laugh at how silly he was, or figure out just what the big deal was. Then she was the one to feel stunned, as Sarah realized that she had laughed more in the last twelve hours than she had in the past twelve months.
"Sarah, comparing a cheesesteak from Philly with a cheesesteak from anywhere else is like comparing an In and Out burger with a burger from anywhere else."
Chuck, to his utter amazement, was met with a blank stare.
"An In and Out burger? Seriously? You…Oh, my god. You. Never. Had. An. In. And. Out. Burger?" Chuck was looking at her like she had grown a second head as they headed out to the parking lot to get back into her car.
"Oh, padawan. You have so much to learn," Chuck said as he unconsciously draped an arm over her shoulders. He was trying to look stern while clearly not remotely serious. "Well, we need to fix that as soon as…as soon as…" Chuck trailed off, disquieted at the thought of them not being together in LA to share a burger. This is just a cover date. Just good for the cover. "When this Cruz guy is caught, the Secret Service will send you back to the CIA, won't they? The CIA will then send you out into the world on some glamorous, super-secret mission. Right?" Sarah was quiet. To Chuck the woman was like the Sphinx. He had no idea what was running through her head. Suddenly Chuck looked just as depressed as she felt.
"Mmhmm. That's the plan," Sarah mumbled, wishing that she could steer the conversation back to where they had been laughing and teasing each other. Still feeling depressed at her conclusion that she was too different from Chuck to really be a couple, her mask slipped just enough to show him how much she disliked the idea of shipping out for another mission at Director Graham's behest. Maybe it's time for a career change, the little voice in the back of her head whispered.
"Well, on the upside, Cruz hasn't been caught yet," Chuck responded, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from the topic that was so unwelcome to them both.
Sarah, deeply grateful at Chuck's consideration, decided to help him along, "Chuck, something is seriously wrong if you are taking as a positive the fact that an internationally known assassin is still after you. You are far and away the most glass-half full guy I've ever met."
"You know, if you really think about it, the glass is always full. I mean, half is liquid and half is air. But in reality, the glass could only be half full in a vacuum." Chuck tried not to face palm at his nerding out like that. "I'm sorry. I used to think that was such a cool concept, although it totally defeats the euphemism. But back at Stanford I said it to Jill, uh, my um, my ex, and she thought it wasn't anywhere near as funny as I did." C'mon, Chuck. You know what Ellie always says about not bringing up ex-girlfriends. Although that rule is for women you are actually dating, and for Sarah this is just a cover. Hmm, Sarah doesn't seem to find that concept that funny either.
Sarah reflected on Chuck's relationship struggles, and felt a kinship with him in that regard. His file did not reflect any notable relationships back in high school. Her history then wasn't any better, in fact it was lightly worse. She had started high school with a bad complexion and a worse perm job, with braces just to add the cherry on top. The end result had placed her on the bottom rung of the social ladder. Teasing about her lack of a father had resulted in a suspension when her confrontation with Heather Chandler had ended with the cheerleader sporting a broken nose and concussion.
When the principal later questioned Sarah about the fight, she had merely shrugged and said, "Heather was always saying that she wanted her nose worked on. Now she had the perfect excuse." The principal, well aware of Chandler's pretentious attitude, had cracked up. Sarah was suspended the rest of the day, and was ordered to spend an hour a week as an unpaid assistant to one of the teachers. Neither Heather Chandler, nor her influential parents, had realized that the teacher selected happened to be Sarah's favorite in the foreign language department.
Sarah's punishment by the school was a non-punishment. But her fighting with Heather was social suicide. Sarah had spent the rest of her time in high school avoiding confrontations by forcing herself to stay cool no matter how she was provoked. In response, Heather had labeled her the Ice Queen, a title that Sarah conversely took great pride in.
Chuck was more successful in college, while Sarah matriculated from CIA sanctioned courses under a dozen different names which was not conducive for establishing a relationship. Of course his college relationship wound up being with that heartless bitch (ok, the file didn't put it that way, but can't theses analysts read between the lines? C'mon people!) aka Jill Roberts. With success like that, she'd take loneliness any day. Chuck had cratered emotionally afterwards, although no one could fault him for that.
As for Sarah, the only thing resembling a relationship was what she shared with her former partner, Bryce Larkin- at best a pale imitation of a relationship. At first it had merely been a hook up following the first Mr. and Mrs. Anderson mission, one in which they had barely escaped with their lives. The combination of mutual attraction and adrenaline had resulted in some wild sex in their hotel room. The second time had a near duplicate ending, both with the mission and in the hotel room. Near death followed by hollow passion. Their physical relationship became a talisman of sorts, a ritual to protect them from harm.
They had even tried a vacation together away from the missions. An ill-fated trip to Cabo. Neither had ever used the term boyfriend or girlfriend. They had never tried pet names with each other. Neither discussed family or friends. They had their jobs and sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Cabo had been nice. Warm sun, beautiful beaches for which she still had fond memories. But they both realized that their relationship would never go beyond the Andersons.
Not long after Cabo, Bryce had mentioned a solo mission with some new technology, and had completely disappeared from her life. The lack of feeling that resulted from his disappearance was the final bit of proof that their relationship truly had been image over substance. Sarah laughed quietly to herself. She and Chuck could actually debate the question of whether it is better to have loved and lost or never to have loved at all. After all, her only remotely real relationship had no love. His only relationship had love, at least on his side, yet had devastated him.
She decided to leave that debate to the philosophers. She had a job to do. Protect Chuck Bartowski. Could she do her job and develop a relationship with the protectee? CIA rules forbid asset/handler relationships. But she wasn't operating under the CIA on this mission. Ron Butterfield likely wouldn't be a big fan any relationship either, but her position with the Secret Service was likely a one-time event.
Chuck practically dragged Sarah into Jim's Steaks on South Street. The black and white checkered tiles gave the restaurant a 50's flair, while the walls were covered with decades of photos of athletes, musicians and celebrities who had eaten there. As it was only 11:30, they didn't have to wait in line or have to worry about getting a table at the small upstairs eating area. As they approached the counter, one of the cooks came over with his white apron and white t-shirt, "What can I getcha?"
Chuck was practically drooling from the smell of sizzling steak and grilled onions already cooking on the griddle. "Ok," Chuck started "we are total newbies. Neither Sarah or I have gotten a proper Philly cheesesteak before. I was told that you guys are the best, so give me whatever you think is the best introduction to a Philly cheesesteak. You're our guy. You tell us what to get."
The cook's eyebrows raised slightly, and he was clearly impressed with Chuck deferring to him for such an important decision. "First timers, huh? Well, you're at the right place. Don't let nobody tell you different. You want the best steak, you keep it simple. You get your steak, grilled onions, top it with some provolone cheese. Then you just toss in some salt and pepper, a good amount of ketchup and you are good to go. None of that Cheeze Whiz. Whiz is for the tourists. No offense. And don't even think about broccoli rabe. Howya supposed to taste the Amoroso rolls or the steak with that crap on it, I ask ya?"
"No broccoli," Chuck solemnly nodded. "Got it."
"You're all right buddy. You and your old lady here wait right over there and I'll whip you kids up the best steaks you'll ever eat. Vito's taking care of you." And with that, the cook walked over to the grill, sprayed down some peanut oil, tossed on some fresh onions and shaved ribeye and started chopping away with long handled spatulas.
Chuck and Sarah moved down the counter to pay for their steaks. Shortly after they paid and got their drinks, Vito came over with their steaks in hand. "You kids enjoy these. Trust me, these will be the best steaks you ever have or ever will eat. Enjoy."
With that, Chuck and Sarah made their way up to the second floor to grab a table for two. There were a couple of other patrons there, but most of the tables were available given the early lunch hour. Grabbing a table by the window, Chuck set to unwrapping the sandwiches from their paper, while Sarah grabbed fistfuls of napkins. Without even talking about it, or noticing for that matter, the two operated in synchrony.
"Oh my god, this cheesesteak is so good! Like life changing good. Like first time eating jambalaya in New Orleans good. Like..." Chuck was gushing, completely unaware of the dab of ketchup on the side of his chin.
Reaching across the table to swipe a thumb over the spot of ketchup, Sarah replied, "I get it already. But will all that grease it looks more life ending than life changing." She looked aghast at the puddle of grease that had dripped out of the bottom of the steak sandwich the moment Chuck had bitten into it.
"Oh no. No, no, no. You are not missing out on this culinary experience. No ma'am. Vito made these steaks especially for us. You wouldn't want to hurt his feelings," Chuck looked at her with an expression of pretend disappointment.
"Well ok, but don't expect me to kiss you later after we've had all those grilled onions."
Kissing again? Where the hell did that come from Walker? Okay, so maybe I've thought about kissing him again. Some. Ok, a lot. Oh, look. I think I broke him.
Sarah leaned forward, laughing out loud at Chuck's expression. Evidently their kisses the night before had left as big of an impression on Chuck as they had on her. As her laughter shifted into giggles, Chuck came out of his stupor and beamed that Bartowski smile at her. She couldn't help but smile back. They were so caught up in their little bubble, that Sarah never spotted the man staring at them through the lens.
Their lunch a Jim's Steaks had lasted far longer than either had realized. At the time, Sarah had noted the tables around them filling up with the lunch crowd (including quite a lot of tourists), and emptying again. However, she hadn't thought twice about it as none of the people in the small upstairs seating area could have been Javier Cruz. She had relaxed and enjoyed her meal with the unparalleled company. Despite, or possibly because of, the crunch of people filling every last spot in the steak shop, their table for two tucked away by the window had taken on an enhanced sense of intimacy.