A/N: More Stanford TMI – Southeast of Roble Hall (where our intrepid heroes reside) on the Stanford campus is a seven-building housing complex named Florence Moore Hall or FloMo for short. The complex has a dining hall which is popular with students across campus. It's known for its Sunday night Indian dinners. You'll not find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy and it is where the ChoirBoyz lurk. No surprise there. But the food is good, so there's that.
Disclaimer: It's fall break around here. Smart aleck is off for the week. I don't own Chuck and make no money from Chuck. Maybe my smart aleck is in that box with Schrödinger's cat.
Chapter 9 – Octopus's Garden
October 6
Chuck swam with fluid grace. His arms sliced through the water with the barest of ripples keeping the extraneous turbulence to a minimum. He used his cupped hands to grab the water and push it behind him to propel himself forward, while his powerful legs kicked the water into a white foam to aid his propulsion. Turning his head to the right, he drew in as much air as he could, so to limit the number of times he had to breathe and break his streamlined form. Streamline for speed. Anything else slowed you down. 2000 meters of freestyle to warm up. 40 lengths of the pool. Work his muscles and get his blood really pumping. His world was reduced to the water surrounding him and the lane marker, laid out in a line of black tiles, below him on the bottom of the pool. The water and his swimming cap limited his hearing to the gurgle of the water as he moved and the echo of his periodic breathing. Smooth and steady. Keep the turbulence down. Turbulence caused waves and waves slowed you down. 50 meters, flip turn, 50 meters, flip turn. Up the pool and down the pool, back and forth, Chuck got into the zone.
The zone. After only 3 laps (6 lengths of the pool), Chuck was in that hypnotic state he called the zone. He mentally smiled to himself. It had once taken him a long time to 'get in the zone'. Eventually, he'd trimmed the time and the laps down to 3. I've still got it, he thought.
Part of his brain kept track of his swimming, his form, his breathing, his surroundings. Another part counted the lengths he had swum to that point and how many he still had to complete. That left the rest of his quite considerable intellect free to consider whatever he wanted. Not think about it overtly, but let things slide through his mind like the water slid over his body. If an outside observer could see into Chuck's brain, at that moment, it would have appeared that he wasn't thinking about anything in particular. His mind just wandering randomly. That couldn't be further from the truth.
In reality, his mind was analyzing thousands of things as once, hopping from topic to topic, item to item. He ran through his schoolwork. The work he'd done, the work he was doing, and the work he knew was still ahead of him. He reviewed what he still needed to do to complete the paperwork he'd promised Vivian. And how to get it to a courier so that she would have it by Monday, tomorrow. His thoughts played over where he was on his next 'side' project and how long he calculated it would be until it would be time for its own set of paperwork. Chuck thought about how he was going to help Anna and Cynthia Rose with their physics later that day. He analyzed each baseball practice, every part of every weight circuit, each long toss, flat ground, full bullpen, even every running drill from the afternoons, looking for any issue, shortcoming, or flaw and cataloging them so he could work on correcting them at the next opportunity. And, he relived every second he'd spent in Sarah Walker's company.
Chuck savored every moment, turning it over in his mind and looking at it from every angle like he would a precious jewel. What color of blue her eyes were and how that color changed and how she looked at him. How her hair moved in whatever style she had it at that particular time. The expressions on her face and how she laughed. How she smelled of jasmine and vanilla and how she moved with precise grace, never any wasted motion. He thought about the sound of her voice, what she said, and how she said it, going over their conversations with each other the way someone in prior days would have read and reread a letter from a distant loved one. He knew he liked her. He liked her a lot, but she also made him feel something else that he didn't understand at all. It was something he had never felt before in his life. Ever. He had no idea what it was and hadn't had any time to really think about it and analyze it, like he did almost everything. There was just too much going on that he had to deal with. He also knew that he had no idea how to even begin to approach a girl … no … woman as smart and beautiful as she was. Talking to her in a group was enough of a challenge. How would he manage to talk to her if they were alone? How could he ever ask her out?
Sarah and her suitemates were running through their own workouts in the AOERC fitness center. Every so often one of them would head over toward the windows, ostensibly to get a drink from their water bottle, but also to see what Chuck was doing in the pool at that moment. They marveled at his speed, strength, and endurance. He kept swimming, rarely taking a break, transitioning from one type of drill to the next. The only time they saw him exit the pool was to retrieve some of the items from the pile on the deck. Sarah tried not to look at him in those moments out of the pool, but it was obvious that his suit was plastered to his body, causing her to redden. She was getting a drink and watching him appreciatively, when she heard Carina come up behind her.
"He swims like a fish, hardly stopping, at all." Sarah smiled, a little awed by his fortitude. "Look at him go. Wow!"
"Yeah, well, what do you expect? With that drop board rudder he has; I'm surprised he ever lost a race." Carina grinned salaciously.
"Carina! Holy shit, is your mind always in the gutter?" Sarah said, crossly.
"No, of course not." Carina shook her head.
"Good." Sarah nodded.
Carina's grin turned evil. "Right now, my mind is in that pool over there." She started to softly sing. "I'd like to be under the sea. In an octopus's garden in the shade." Sarah's eyes widened. "He'd let us in. With a big grin. And show us all his tent-a-cle for free!" Sarah's eyes widened even further and her mouth dropped open.
"Oh. My. God!" She blushed crimson. Carina just cackled, doubling over and holding her sides. Sarah could hear Amy and Zondra giggling, too.
While her friends continued to carry on, Sarah turned away from the window. She didn't know why, but she felt ashamed. They weren't doing anything that they hadn't done before. Checking out guys, commenting, and giggling. But, this time, something was different. Chuck wasn't just some random guy. Chuck was becoming their friend. No, that wasn't right. Chuck was their friend. He was a nice guy who went out of his way to help them. She'd asked for help on her Tower of Hanoi project and he'd gone above and beyond. Today, he was going to be helping Anna and Cynthia Rose with their physics stuff later on. He'd even said he'd call his parents and other people back home to try and get them to donate money to the Songbirds. Chuck was sweet and funny. Smart and cute. Oh, so, so cute. He was shy and awkward and adorable. He didn't deserve to be spied on and ogled. He never ogled any of them. He was always a gentleman. Usually, when Sarah thought of Chuck, she felt a flutter in her chest. But, now, right now, all she felt was pain, like her heart hurt. She frowned. Turning back to her giggling friends, she spoke with an edge in her voice. "OK, enough. Stop it. Chuck has never been anything but respectful of us. We owe him that same courtesy."
Seeing her face, her friends sobered, looking shamefaced.
"You're right, Sarah. Sorry." Amy nodded.
"Sorry. Yup, Curls is our friend. We should be better." Zondra acknowledged.
"Come on, Blondie. You know I don't mean it. Chuckles is a good guy. I was just having a little fun." Carina said and stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.
Sarah thought back over all of their time around Chuck from him running into their practice last Tuesday, through to right now. Something tugged at her memory. A feeling in her gut, that she couldn't quite figure out. "Yeah, well, try having a little less fun at Chuck's expense, OK?" She asked. Her friends surreptitiously eyed each other.
Noting her serious expression, Carina's mood instantly changed. "What's up, Sarah?"
Sarah looked back out the window at Chuck swimming. "I don't know. Not sure. Don't forget he ran in on us last Tuesday with that headache and all that stuttering and stammering. We helped him get Jill off his back, but I can't get over the feeling that he still needs our help."
"Help with what, Sarah? If anything, we need his help with stuff. Like he helped you and he's helping Anna and Cynthia Rose." Amy asked.
"I don't know. It's just a feeling I've got, but I can't tell you why I feel that way. But Chuck still needs our help. I'm almost certain of that. I'm still trying to figure out what's up with his stuttering and stammering. On again, off again. We talked about him hiding something. I've thought more about it and I'm sure he's hiding something and it has to do with all that stuff, his headache and his stammering and his stuttering. I just have no idea what it could be." Frowning in puzzlement at her own confusion, she shook her head to clear it before turning back to her next exercise. What's going on with me, she wondered?
Chuck powered through his warm up. With his blood pumping and fully oxygenated, he counted out a minute's rest before working through the individual medley, 500 meters for each stroke in order, butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke, and freestyle. Resting a moment, he placed both hands on the edge of the pool and levered himself out of the water like he was leaping over a pommel horse in a gymnastics exhibition. He grabbed the kickboard and the other remaining items, from the deck, and placed them by the pool, while he held the board in his other hand. Chuck tossed the kickboard into the pool and dove in after it. Taking hold of the kickboard, he repeated the individual medley drill, but focused on the leg kicks. 100 meters of the kick for each stroke; dolphin, flutter, frog, and flutter again, duplicating the freestyle flutter kick in the backstroke spot in the order. He worked hard, but allowed his mind to wander, once more, and this time he thought back to the previous evening when Morgan had finally arrived back in their shared room.
It had taken a while, but Morgan had returned to the room about two hours after Chuck had gotten back. Morgan had looked more than a bit disheveled when he entered the room. Chuck observed a range of emotions roil across his face, before settling on something that looked like a cross between a man who'd survived both a traumatic event and the reunion with a long-separated love. At least, that's what it looked like to Chuck, with his vast catalog of old movies to draw on. When Morgan had remained silent for longer than Chuck had ever seen before, he tried to pull his friend out of his haze.
"Morgan? Buddy? Y'all in there? Hellooo?" Chuck waved his hand in front of Morgan's unblinking eyes. Morgan continued to blindly stare at nothing until Chuck nudged his shoulder. "Morgan? Come on, buddy. Talk to me? Are you alright?"
Shaking himself and blinking, Morgan turned his head and slowly focused on Chuck. "What just happened?"
"I don't know, buddy. What did happen? Come on, let's sit down and you can tell me all about it." Chuck guided Morgan, unresisting, over to his bed and encouraging him to sit down. Chuck flopped into Morgan's desk chair, fixed his eyes on his friend, and waited.
Morgan sat with his head bowed, while Chuck watched him for several tense minutes. Finally, he raised his head and looked at Chuck, who couldn't tell from his expression what was on his friend's mind. "Talk to me, Morgan. What happened? Casey didn't kill you, that much is obvious, but what did he do? What did Alex do? What did she say? Are you still on the team? Expelled? What? Talk to me, buddy."
Morgan seemed to latch on to something Chuck said. "What did Alex do? What didn't she do, Chuck? She was amazing. After dragging me over to where her parents were parked, she marched us right up to Casey, showed him that she was holding my hand, and dared him to say anything about it."
"And did he say anything?" Chuck asked.
Morgan had chuckled. "He tried to, that's for sure. He said, 'Grimes? You've picked this little Martian to date?' And Alex pointed her finger at him and said, 'Stop right there, Dad. I like him and he likes me. He's been a perfect gentleman and never pressures me about anything. So, stop with your growling. I'm going to date him and that's all there is to it.' And …" His voice trailed off.
"And, then, what, buddy? What happened?" Chuck had looked wide-eyed at Morgan as he pictured the scene of Alex being in Casey's face and reading him the riot act.
Morgan's face softened and he wore a blissful smile. "And, then, she kissed me. Right in front of Casey and her mom. What a kiss, too. And Casey didn't kill me!"
"Oh my God, Morgan! How are you still alive?"
"I know, right? I have no idea. He did start to growl again, though. That's when her mom stepped in. Kathleen. Did I say that she told me to call her Kathleen? No? Well, she did." Morgan giggled a little wildly, like the adrenaline of that moment was catching up with him. "Kathleen told him to stop it. To leave me alone. Or he could forget about there being any prisoner of war interrogations for the foreseeable future. I have no idea what that had to do with anything, but Alex just grimaced and shook her head when I looked at her."
Chuck wasn't sure what it meant either, but he was glad that Alex and her mother both stood up for his friend. "Then what happened?" he asked a little awestruck at what he'd already heard.
"Well, Casey kind of slumped and just nodded. Then he glared at me and said, 'Grimes, it looks like I'm outvoted on this. So fine. Let me tell you one thing. If you ever hurt her, I'll hurt you. You got that? And don't bother running. Your legs are shorter than mine and I'll catch you.' I just gulped and nodded. Then Alex said, 'Don't worry, Daddy. If he hurts me, I'll kill him myself.' She sounded tough, but I could tell her eyes were laughing at me. I said, 'Yes. Ma'am!' She and her mom … I mean, Kathleen both laughed. Casey just grunted. I think it was an approval grunt for what Alex said." Morgan had shaken his head and shrugged. "Then Alex also said, 'And no busting his balls in practice, either, Dad.' Casey started to frown at that, but then Kathleen spoke up again. 'Busting balls hurts, doesn't it, dear?' she said. Casey just nodded. He might have blushed a little, but I can't be sure." Morgan had giggled again.
"What else happened?"
"Kathleen hugged me. While she was hugging me, she whispered in my ear, 'Be good and take care of my baby.' She looked me straight in the eye, so I nodded and said, 'Yes, Ma'am. I will. I promise.' What else could I say? That was it. Casey said he'd see me at weight training Monday morning. They offered to drive us back to the dorm, but Alex said no and that she wanted to walk back. Casey and Kathleen looked at each other and at us, but didn't say anything. Then they got in their car, Casey drives a Crown Vic, by the way, looks like a classic car to me, and drove off. Alex waited until they were out of sight and then she kissed the hell out of me. I thought she was going to suffocate me. I'd die, but I'd die happy." Morgan had had a dreamy smile on his face.
"That doesn't sound like it took that long. So, where have y'all been all of this time?"
Morgan had given Chuck a flat look. "A gentleman never kisses and tells, Chuck. So not cool."
"I guess you're right, Morg. Not cool." Chuck had nodded, but still gave Morgan a look. Morgan had noticed.
"No, we didn't do anything. That wasn't a bullshit line. I really am a gentleman, Chuck, believe it or not. I really do like Alex, too. I think she's great. And she likes me. Me!" He had shaken his head in wonder. "And I really think she would kill me if I tried anything without a clear signal from her. Then I'd have to deal with Casey. And Kathleen. And my mom." Morgan had shuddered.
"Don't forget Ellie. And my mom. Y'all know they'd find out." Chuck had reminded him. Morgan had shuddered even more.
"No, we just walked back. Held hands. And, you know … just spent time together."
Chuck hadn't mentioned Morgan's disheveled state again, but he figured there had been more kissing than Morgan had let on, which was fine, he didn't need to know about that. It was none of his business, after all. His own romantic track record was much worse than that. There was one thing that Chuck was curious about. "Morgan, has Alex ever told you how or why she lives on campus when her family lives so close by?"
"Yeah, she did. Not tonight, but the other day when we were coming back after one of my movies for class." Morgan had narrowed his eyes, trying to remember. "She told me that her dad being on staff for over five years gets her a fifty percent discount on her tuition. She also told me she wanted the full college experience. You know, living in the dorm, eating in the dining hall, going to football games with friends, joining clubs, hanging out. All that stuff. They used some of the money they saved on tuition to pay for her room and board. And so, she's in Roble with us. Lucky for me."
"Sounds like it, buddy." Chuck had smiled at his friend.
"Sure does." Morgan had smiled back.
"It also sounds like practice on Monday is going to be interesting."
"Sure does." Morgan had stopped smiling. "Oh, man!" he had whined.
Chuck finished his kickboard laps. Sliding his goggles up and placing the board on the side of the pool, he retrieved his pull buoy and hand paddles. He slipped the pull buoy between his thighs, just above his knees and slid the hand paddles on each of his hands. With his legs isolated, he would be able to focus his next set of laps on his arms and their form. The goal was to build up the arm muscles, but, also, work on the form of the stroke. Straight ahead and not over-reaching, otherwise, instead of knifing through the water, you kind of wiggled or slithered through the water like a snake. That looks funny and it's not as fast. And, in swimming, speed is everything, so form is everything. Chuck wanted to be the best he could be, even if he was no longer actively competing, so on went the pull buoy and hand paddles. Fiddling with his equipment had given him time to catch his breath, so he put his goggles back in place and pushed off from the side of the pool to work through 400 meters of freestyle arm strengthening.
He tried to spend time, during this drill, thinking about what he'd tell Anna and Cynthia Rose about mechanics. Sure, he'd done some of that during his warm up, but this time, he tried to focus his mind on it. He knew that he'd have to review their book to know where they were and what they'd already studied and how the material was presented. How the exercises were written and how they were expected to work on and solve them. Physics was physics, but each textbook from a particular author had its own style and slant compared to other authors. He had to make sure he helped them the way they needed to be helped for their class and not some other class and textbook, so he had to look through their book. That wouldn't take him too long.
The problem was, his mind kept circling back to another Songbird. A Songbird with hypnotic blue eyes and pale, golden, blonde hair. And a smile that lit up the room and filled him with happiness. A laugh that made him want to laugh, just for remembering it. He didn't because he also remembered that time he'd laughed underwater and nearly choked to death on all the water he'd inhaled. So, he just thought about laughing. And spending more time with her. He was surprised when he realized that he'd already finished the 4 laps that made up his current drill. Taking off his paddles and buoy, he put them on the side of the pool and relaxed for five minutes to allow his breathing to return to normal and his arm muscles to rest.
Chuck fixed his goggles back over his eyes and knocked out 2 sets of freestyle laps, sprinting the whole way. Take deep breaths and hold the last one. Swim full out, try to avoid breathing for as long as possible, up and back. Stop and take deep breaths. And swim it again. No time to think about anything else. Rest. 5000 meters done. 2000 more to go.
It was a good workout. Chuck finished up with 400 meters each of butterfly and freestyle, trying to generate as much speed as he could muster by that point in the workout. By the time he finished the last lap of the freestyle, his muscles were telling him he'd worked hard. He swam the last 1200 meters at a slower pace as a cool down from the rest of the workout. When he climbed out of the pool after his last lap, using the ladder this time, Mr. Vidgen had arrived back at poolside. His workout had taken just under two hours. He tiredly helped him string the cross-pool lane ropes in preparation of the family swim time that would begin after 12 noon.
"You're looking good, Chuck. I'm not a swimming coach, but you look like you could still get in the pool and compete with the guys on Stanford's team." Mr. Vidgen smiled. He liked Chuck. No surprise there.
Chuck grinned tiredly, as he toweled himself dry. "Thanks, Mr. Vidgen. I appreciate that, but I've got enough on my plate without adding more."
Mr. Vidgen waved his hand dismissively. "No worries. I know you're booked up to your eyeballs. I'll settle for seeing you mowing them down on the pitcher's mound next spring."
"Sure thing, Mr. Vidgen." Chuck nodded and gave him a thumbs up. "Welp, I gotta get back to the dorm and get some food. Then on to the next adventure." He climbed into his warm up suit, slipped on his aqua socks, slung his towel around his neck, and gathered up his swimming gear, before briskly walking back to the men's locker room.
The CATS had finished their own workouts long before Chuck had finished his in the pool, so they missed the chance to walk back to the dorm with him. That didn't mean he wasn't on their minds. Sarah was thinking about all of him. Every moment she had spent in his company. She knew he was lodged in her brain. Even when she was doing other things, part of her brain was devoted to thinking about him. Sarah wasn't sure how that had happened so fast, but she'd given up worrying about it. She had Chuck on the brain and that was all there was to it. Her friends were more focused in their thoughts of Chuck. Or certain parts of Chuck.
Amy, Carina, and Zondra may have ogled and giggled over Chuck, but they knew that he was only a diversion for them. For Sarah, on the other hand, it was a whole different story. They'd seen how she'd looked and acted from the very first moment she'd laid eyes on Chuck. And she was sinking deeper each day. From what they'd seen from Chuck, he was sinking just as fast. They all knew that neither one of them had any idea what was going on, either. Couldn't see the forest for the trees, in a manner of speaking. They knew that they and the other Songbirds had to keep a watch on Chuck and start figuring some stuff out. Sooner rather than later.
A few minutes before 2:00pm, Chuck wheeled a whiteboard through the door of the Roble Hall Makerspace. He'd borrowed it from another room in the common areas on the first floor. It had a couple of dry erase markers in the tray, so he was glad he wouldn't have to find some to scrounge from elsewhere. Stopping next to a table on the other side of the room from the sinks and other work tables, he shrugged his pack off his back and wiped the board clean. Then, Chuck unpacked one of his laptops, plugged it in, and booted it up. Noticing that he still had a couple of minutes to go until 2:00 o'clock, he closed his eyes and gathered himself.
"Yo, sleepyhead. Wake up!" Chuck heard an amused voice nearby. Opening his eyes, he smiled when he saw Anna and Cynthia Rose smiling at him. Both of them were carrying their backpacks.
"I wasn't sleeping. I was gathering my chi energy. You know, to better help you with your physics" Chuck said, solemnly.
"Uh Huh. Sure." Cynthia Rose gave him a dubious look.
"Whatever," Anna shrugged.
Chuck motioned to the other chairs at the table. "Have a seat. I found a whiteboard; in case we have to draw anything out or work some problems. Okay?" Both girls nodded their understanding as they dumped their packs on the table, before taking out their textbooks, laptops, and notebooks and sliding into the available chairs. Several people around the room eyed the trio curiously.
"OK, before we start, may I take a look at one of your textbooks? Just give me a few minutes to scan it, so I can get an idea of how your book covers stuff." Chuck widened his eyes expectantly.
Anna slid her book over toward Chuck. "Sure, here's mine. Knock yourself out. We're finishing up Unit 2 and will start on Unit 3 next week. Our questions have to do with the last chapter in Unit 2." She and Cynthia Rose then settled in to wait for Chuck to complete his inspection.
"Thanks. I'll just be a few minutes." Chuck opened the book to the table of contents and quickly scanned the topics, taking note of the order of the units and the chapters in each unit. Next, he did the same thing with the index and glossary at the back of the book. Then, Chuck turned back to the front of the book and opened it to the first chapter.
He was so focused on what he was doing, so in the study zone, that he didn't see either Amy or Zondra enter the room and sit at a table off to his side where they could observe the tutoring session without being in his direct line of sight. Sarah had wanted to be the one to watch Chuck, but her friends had convinced her that Chuck would know she was there instantly and that they were, therefore, better choices to watch him. She couldn't disagree with their logic, especially since she always knew when Chuck was nearby, herself. What Amy and Zondra saw amazed them.
Chuck appeared to be just glancing at the pages, flipping them one after the other. Every so often, he'd stop and scrutinize a particular page for a bit longer before returning to his rapid page scanning and flipping. At the end of each chapter, he'd slow down and review each of the problems, nodding to himself all the while. It didn't take him long to get to the end of the second unit and on to the third. When Anna tried to get his attention, he'd just held up a finger and said, "Just a sec," while continuing with his scan. As he went along, he started humming something that sounded like some classical music, but neither Anna or Cynthia Rose could place it, although they did grin at each other seeing Chuck 'in the zone.' Several people working at the surrounding tables smiled, as well, since it wasn't loud enough to be annoying, yet.
After about ten minutes, Chuck finished scanning the book after looking at the review problems in the final appendix. Closing the book, he looked up at the two Songbirds. "OK," he said. "I think I've got the measure of this author and your book." Anna and Cynthia Rose gaped at him. "You said that you're working on the last chapter of Unit 2. OK, we'll talk about your questions in that chapter, first and then, look over the problems you're working on. Sound like a plan?" The girls just nodded, speechless. "So, what's your first question?"
Anna flipped her book open to a page, in the chapter they were working through, and showed it to Chuck. She explained what they were uncertain about; Cynthia Rose nodding and agreeing all the while. Chuck listened; his brow furrowed in concentration. When Anna was done speaking, Chuck closed his eyes and bowed his head; his fingers tapping on the table while he thought. After a couple of moments, he opened his eyes, rubbed his hands together, and smiled. He stood up next to the whiteboard and picked up one of the markers.
"Are you ready?" Anna and Cynthia Rose nodded. Chuck grinned. "Then, away we go!" They giggled at his exaggerated flourish.
Chuck sketched some diagrams on the board and waited for the girls to copy them in their notebooks. Then he began to label the various parts of each diagram, explaining what he was doing every step of the way. Next, Chuck drew some formulas on the board, cross-referencing each diagram to the expressions in each formula. Finally, Chuck launched into his explanation of what was on the board. What followed wowed his audience. Not only the two Songbirds, but some other people, in the room, who realized what he was talking about.
Amy and Zondra were equally amazed. This was a totally different Chuck than any they had seen up to this point, even compared to when they were in his room and he was helping Sarah with her project. No stammering or stuttering, at all. No hesitation. No shyness. This was Academic Chuck in his natural element. In charge, confident, and self-assured. And sexy as hell, they both thought to themselves. He explained everything slowly and clearly, using analogies, where he could, to help fix the concepts in Anna's and Cynthia Rose's minds. If they had questions about anything, he'd try a different tack to convey the information, going over it, repeatedly, trying new approaches each time, until they indicated they understood. Chuck never lost track, never got stumped, and never lost his patience. He even took questions from some of the other people who had moved closer as the tutoring session progressed.
"He's doing all of those calculations in his head." Amy whispered.
"I noticed that, too." Zondra nodded. "There's no way Curls is just now taking that class. He's had it before. Or something …" Her voice drifted off, uncertain.
"He could have had AP Physics in high school or something. Maybe, he took some college courses during his senior year. I know some people do that sort of thing." Amy volunteered.
"Yeah, maybe, but the question is when did he do that? When did he graduate? And where did he go?" Zondra countered.
"You still haven't found out any more?"
"Nope. Nothing." Zondra shook her head. "Another thing I'm curious about is Curls 'reviewing' Anna's book."
"What do you mean? Do you think he was faking that?" Amy was confused.
"No, I don't think he was faking it, at all. In fact, I'm wondering if he didn't read that entire book right in front of us, just now."
Amy's mouth dropped open and she stared at her friend. "You think he read that whole book in less than ten minutes and remembered it all?" Zondra nodded slowly. "Holy shit, Z!"
"Yeah, Amy. Holy shit! But I'm starting to think that our shy, curly-haired, mascot could be an honest-to-God genius." Zondra sucked in her lips and nodded, wide-eyed.
"More for us to try and figure out." Amy was solemn.
"Yup." Zondra agreed. They had to get back to their suite and report to Carina. And Sarah.
The tutoring session had lasted an hour and a half and Chuck had loved every second of it. He was himself, full and honest. Hiding nothing. And he'd helped two of his friends. They'd said so, thanking him profusely for his help, telling him that he explained it better than their professor. He'd blushed when they told him that. He'd blushed again, when they both gave him big hugs and kisses on the cheek. Chuck had to fight back tears of happiness at their praise. And from the thanks he got from other people who'd gravitated to his help session. He'd helped. He'd made a difference. It felt wonderful.
As wonderful as it felt, he had to get back to his own work, so he wiped off the whiteboard and started to wheel it out of the room, following Anna and Cynthia Rose, nodding and waving to the other people who'd been listening to him as they waved their thanks, again, and their good-byes. He'd noticed Amy and Zondra in the room during his talk and saw them trying to slip out of the room ahead of him and his tutees, so he called to them. Knowing that they'd been spotted, they turned, grinning sheepishly, afraid of Chuck calling them out. Wrong again.
"Hey! Did you see any of that?" Chuck gushed, as the two CATS nodded. "That was fun. And pretty cool."
"First time I've heard anyone call Mechanics class cool. Or fun, for that matter." Zondra chuckled. Anna and Cynthia Rose were shaking their heads 'no', fairly emphatically.
"Well, what can I say? I'm a nerd." Chuck shrugged.
"Yup. Grade-A, 100 percent pure, all-geek, Nerd." Zondra's chuckle morphed into a full laugh. Amy was right there with her. Even Anna and Cynthia Rose started to laugh.
"Absolutely. No defense. Guilty as charged." Chuck laughed.
"So, where're you off to now, Chuck?" Amy asked, after the laughter had subsided.
"First thing I have to do is return this whiteboard to the room down that way, where I borrowed it from. Then, I have to crank up the grindstone and get back to my work." He was quick to shake his head. "No, don't worry, y'all didn't keep me from doing anything. I'm fine." The girls nodded, accepting his assurances.
"After I get some work done, Morgan and I are going to hit FloMo for their Sunday night Indian dinner. I know it's Americanized and not authentic, but it's close by and it's paid for already. Do y'all want to come with us?" He asked, indicating all four of the Songbirds.
"I don't know, Chuck. FloMo is where that asshat, Bumper Allen, and his minions live." Amy grumbled. "I could do without running into them."
Chuck considered for a minute. "I understand that, Amy, but you can't let Bumblebutt Allen determine what you do and where you go. If you do that, he wins without even having to do anything. He restricts you, by default."
"You could be right, Chuck." Amy conceded and Chuck started to nod his head. "I said, could be, Chuck." Chuck's face fell a little.
"OK, how about you get as many of the other Songbirds that you can, to go? Morgan and I will go with you. Y'all stood up to Shaw and Larkin last night and helped us out. Morgan and I will stand beside you tonight, in case Buttbrain Allen shows up and tries to cause trouble. It's the least we can do."
"You don't have to do that, Chuck." Amy said.
"I want to. Y'all are my friends. Friends help friends, that's what they do. I've had my fair share of bullies in my life. Let's do something different for dinner. Have some fun. And ignore the … um … asshats of the world." Chuck said earnestly.
Amy laughed and lifted her hands in surrender. "OK, I give. Uncle. We'll gather our army and take on the asshats."
"They won't know what hit them." Chuck smiled and shook his head.
Chuck and the Songbirds settled on their usual dinner time before parting ways. He returned the whiteboard, as promised and went back to his room. Unlocking his secure drawer, he pulled out the legal documents that he owed Vivian. After looking over what he still had to do to complete them, he booted up his laptop and pulled up the partially completed technical specification pages he was still working on. It took him another hour to finish them and review everything, before he printed them off.
He called the courier he'd been using, since coming to Stanford, and told them he had a pickup to go to the usual address. After being informed that someone would be there within the hour, Chuck disconnected the call and sent a text to Vivian. Vivian would make sure the legal department got the completed application sometime tomorrow. If the past was any indicator, they'd finish their work in time for the documents to reach Washington, D.C. by the end of the week. Another project done and application submitted. Another item being added soon to the growing stable of products for CIB Technologies. And one item off his plate. Until he finished his next 'side' project and they had to go through it all over again. Vivian texted back, 'Yay! Finally!' Chuckling, Chuck sent her an emoji sticking out its tongue.
While he waited on the courier to arrive, Chuck texted Morgan about the updated dinner plans. Morgan texted him back immediately, 'The more the merrier.' He included some party emojis. That task done, Chuck pulled out the courier bag from his drawer and locked the application in the bag, placing it on the edge of his desk to wait.
There was more than an hour to go until it would be time to meet up with the Songbirds for the walk down to FloMo for dinner. Sighing, Chuck got back to his schoolwork. He was doing his normal power walk through his work, when his phone buzzed, indicating the courier was downstairs in the lobby. He told the courier to come up to his room, like usual. When the man knocked on the door, Chuck let him in. Once he confirmed the courier's credentials, Chuck placed the courier bag in the fire-proof case secured to the man's wrist. They shook hands and Chuck wished him a safe journey, promising that he would see him, again, at some point in the not too distant future. After ushering the courier out of his room and closing the door, Chuck looked at the time and saw that 6:00pm was still thirty minutes away. Back to work.
Chuck found Morgan and Alex waiting for him when he walked out of the front of Roble Hall. He waved at Anna and Cynthia Rose when they called his name, smiling. With them were Lou, her boyfriend, and Lilly. After a minute, Aubrey and Chloe walked up with Beca and some boys he didn't recognize, in tow. All that was missing were the CATS.
Even though his back was to the front of the dorm, Chuck felt the shift in the air. The faint tickle of electricity on his exposed skin, causing the hair to stand up. He knew, without looking, that the CATS had arrived. Sarah had arrived. He turned and smiled. His eyes confirmed what he already knew. Her smile matched his own and he felt that funny feeling in his chest, again. Everyone gathered together and greetings were exchanged. Carina clapped her hands and eyed Chuck.
"OK, Chuckles. You called this meeting of the Asshat Defense Force. What's the plan?" Carina said as officiously as she could.
Chuck twisted his lips to the side and lowered his eyebrows. "Ah … Well …, "He paused. "We walk down the street to dinner." When some of the girls giggled, he shrugged.
"OK, people. You heard the mascot. Come on. Get a move on." Carina waved the group onward like a sergeant leading troops on a hike. Some good-natured grumbling accompanied the start of their walk.
Chuck, Morgan, and Alex walked together. He could hear Anna and Cynthia Rose telling the other underclass Songbirds about how he'd helped them. Turning around and walking backwards, he interrupted their tale. "I'd be happy to help y'all again, just let me know, so I can work it into my schedule." His admission caused all of the conversations around him to stop. The girls he was facing looked at him with their mouths open. His face started to turn pink, so he ducked his head, shrugged, and turned back around to face the way they were walking. Everyone was thinking, who was this guy? Where was he from? Were there any more like him? Did he have a brother?
The CATS shared a look and moved closer to Chuck's walking group. Amy and Zondra had told Carina and Sarah everything that had transpired during Chuck's tutoring session. They just could not get over what he said and did and had agreed that there were a lot of layers to Chuck Bartowski. Sarah wished she could have seen if for herself. It sounded amazing. Was he some sort of genius? She didn't know, but that wasn't what she was focused on at that moment. The word that kept coming back to Sarah was selfless. He'd helped her and had helped Anna and Cynthia Rose, taking valuable time away from his own studies. Now, he'd just offered to help them some more, whenever they needed it. Last week, he'd offered to talk to his parents to raise money for their competitions. Chuck was offering to help them stand up to the ChoirBoyz, if necessary, tonight, even though it had nothing to do with him. He just wanted to help. And he never asked for anything in return. Chuck was different from any boy she had ever met before. Every day she learned something new about him that just reinforced that feeling. She still felt there was more to learn about Chuck Bartowski, but she also knew that there were way worse boys out there than the tall, baseball-playing nerd. She wanted to ask him about his talk with his parents, but she didn't want it to sound like all she was doing was using him to get money. Chuck surprised her when he spoke up.
"Yeah, so, I talked to my parents last Thursday after dinner." Chuck began.
"Really? What did they say? Can they help? If it's not too pushy to ask." Sarah felt a little disoriented. Could Chuck read her mind? No, that's silly. Of course not.
"No, it's not pushy at all. I mentioned Dr. Beckman to them and gave them her 'hello'. Mom reminisced a bit about being in the Songbirds. I told them how much you needed and they agreed to give a donation and call some friends and business associates to ask them to help out, too."
"Chuck, that's wonderful. Amazing. Thank you, so, so much." Sarah raised her voice so the whole group would hear her. "Chuck's parents agreed to help us raise money!" Several of the girls cheered and voiced their thanks for Chuck's efforts. Without thinking, she hugged Chuck. They felt their electric 'pop' and, even though they both were expecting it, they froze. The other CATS shoved them, playfully, to get them moving again, sharing another look that neither Sarah or Chuck noticed.
The rest of the walk to the FloMo dining hall was filled with a myriad of small conversations. Carina had tried to get Chuck's attention to tease him about something, but a look from Sarah stopped her cold. For his part, Chuck glanced over at his friend to see him holding Alex's hand and engaged in a whispered conversation. He nudged Sarah, tilting his head in his friend's direction. Sarah looked over and smiled, then made the gagging face. Chuck held in a giggle as he nodded, but his eyes were dancing.
Once they arrived at the dining hall and swiped their cards, they walked through the serving line, filling their plates with the well-known Sunday night Indian food. The group found some unoccupied tables and pushed them together, before taking their seats. Morgan took his regular seat next to Alex and Chuck found himself at the head of one table with Sarah on one side and Amy on the other, not noticing how the girls had maneuvered around to get that arrangement.
Beca tried texting Jesse Swanson and Benji Applebaum, but neither of them had seen Bumper and didn't know where he was. She got Sarah's attention and shook her head. Sarah looked around the table.
"OK, everyone, we deserve to come here and eat, just like everyone else on campus. So, just relax and enjoy your dinner. Don't worry about a thing." Sarah said, matter-of-factly. Chuck looked around and shrugged and started to eat.
Chuck had to admit, while the food was definitely Americanized, it wasn't bad. Different from what they served back at Lakeside and a nice change of pace. He was about halfway through his dinner, when he heard a shout and a braying laugh behind him. The groan from Sarah and the growl from Amy told him that Bumper Allen had arrived. He sighed and shook his head, trying to continue eating.
"Well, well, well. Look who we have here." Chuck gritted his teeth at the obnoxious, condescending tone of the, as yet, unseen, speaker. "I thought I smelled something rotten when I walked in the building. Turns out I was right." A pause. "Look boys, the smelly incompetence of Stanford's very own Songbirds. Who're too dumb to know when it's time to quit embarrassing themselves and give up. And, it seems they've managed to acquire some lapdogs to trot around after them." There were snide chuckles coming from behind Chuck.
"What do you want, Bumper?" Sarah demanded. "We have every right to be here. So, quit bothering us and go away."
"Wah! Wah! Go away!" Bumper whined in a high-pitched voice.
"What's the matter, Bumper? Is your tiny dick causing your voice change?" Amy laughed. There was more laughter from their table and some of the surrounding tables. Carina laughed and held up her little finger and wiggled it in the air for everyone to see.
"Get out of here, you butthead, before I kick your fat sorry ass clear across campus." Sarah growled.
"Ooo. The badass Sarah Walker is going to kick my butt. I'm so scared." Bumper laughed derisively. If he only knew about Handsy Hank, he'd change his tune, Sarah thought to herself.
Chuck still hadn't turned around or stopped eating. Apparently noticing this, Bumper changed his tactics. "Who's this walking garbage disposal shoveling food in his mouth constantly? He looks new. One of your boot-licking lapdogs? Where'd you dig him up? At the local homeless shelter?" Chuck let it go, but then Bumper shoved the back of his head, trying to bury Chuck's face in his dinner. Chuck's head didn't move at all, but people still gasped. The girls around the table were shocked.
Chuck saw red. His expression flattened. He put his utensils down on his plate and pushed his chair back. Sarah stared at Chuck wide-eyed. This was a different Chuck. Morgan frowned and shook his head, mumbling to himself. He had an idea of what was coming. People just froze and waited to see what happened next. As he started to get up, Bumper spoke again. "Oh, look boys. We have a tough guy. I've never seen a lapdog tough guy before." Only this time there wasn't any laughter.
Chuck rose to his full height and slowly turned around. He towered over Bumper Allen and all of the boys with him, by eight inches, at least. Bumper looked up at Chuck and gulped. Chuck smiled an evil smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"You just pushed my head from behind. I was defenseless. I think I might have been assaulted." Chuck looked back over his shoulder at his friends. "Do you think I was assaulted?"
"Yes." Sarah glared at Bumper.
"Absolutely." Amy smirked.
"Sure thing, buddy." Morgan nodded.
"You hurt our friend." Carina agreed, frowning.
There was a chorus of similar statements from the rest of the people at their table. And more than a few from other tables in the room.
Chuck took a step forward and Bumper took a step back. "If you and your idiot friends want to remain at this university, you had best get out of my sight. I hate bullies." Bumper tried to puff up his chest and stand his ground. Chuck side-stepped around him to force him away from everyone and back toward the wall. He looked around and made sure no one was close enough to see his face or hear what he said.
He turned back to Bumper and his face changed once more. Bumper seemed to shrink away from that face and into himself. Chuck leaned in and spoke softly, almost growling. "Listen, Butthead. Leave these girls alone and get out of here. Do you understand me?" Bumper nodded vigorously; his cocky attitude completely gone. Without a backward glance, the cowed ChoirBoyz scurried out of the dining hall.
The entire dining hall was silent. Chuck shook himself and turned back to the table. As he resumed his seat, the room erupted into applause and cheers. He ducked his head and blushed. Grinning, he looked at the table. "I hate bullies. I had to deal with them in school and in sports since I was little." He looked around at the people clapping and cheering for him. "Apparently, I'm not the only one who feels that way."
Amy laughed and hugged Chuck before planting a kiss right on his mouth. Chuck turned crimson. "My hero!" Amy crowed as the table laughed at the stunned look on his red face.
Sarah grabbed his arm. Chuck looked down as he felt that familiar warm electric feeling. When he looked back up, he saw she was beaming, her eyes shining in admiration. "Chuck, that was amazing. You destroyed him and never laid a finger on him. Wow. I think we may have seen the last of his jerky behavior." Her heart soared. He was full of one surprise after another. She was so happy that she didn't even mind Amy kissing him. For once, mental mom had nothing to say.
"That's my friend over there. Best guy around." Morgan cheered, pleasantly surprised that Chuck hadn't gotten angrier. He remembered when they were kids and Chuck had to put up with bullies. As Chuck grew, his tolerance of bullies shrank. Morgan thought back to some of those earlier fights and was glad Chuck had not gone that far.
"Our boy just became a man." Carina teased, smiling.
"Damn straight. Way to go, Curls." Zondra agreed. Chuck just grinned and shook his head.
The next few minutes were taken up with people making their way to their table to congratulate Chuck for dealing with 'that blowhard Buttface Allen.' Chuck smiled and tried to wave off their praise, but people wanted to thank him anyway. Apparently, Bumper Allen had bothered a lot of people over the last four years.
Once the post-confrontation celebration had died down, Chuck pulled out his phone. "I want to get in front of Buttbrain, like Alex did last night with Shaw. I'm going to let Beckman and Montgomery know what happened. OK?" He looked at Sarah and she nodded, after thinking a moment, so he sent an email to Dr. Beckman, Dr. Montgomery, his Dean, and the President detailing the confrontation. After mulling it over, he added Coach Graham to the list. He didn't want there to be anything about his campus activities that could catch his coach by surprise. Chuck asked if what they did was serious enough, they be reprimanded, but not removed from school for their actions and trying to push him around. He wanted them to leave the Songbirds and their friends alone, not have their futures ruined because of a thoughtless student stunt. With that loose end tied up, he turned back to his, now cold, dinner.
October 7
Lou had texted Zondra that Chuck had gone into the Mechanical Engineering building on Escondido Mall at 10:00am. She was sitting on a low wall across the mall from the main entrance to the building, kicking her heels and waiting for Chuck to emerge, hoping that this was the side he'd exit from and not the other side. A couple of minutes after 11:00am, her hopes were rewarded when she saw Chuck come out of the building and rush off to her right along Escondido Mall, back in the direction of the dorm. She got off the wall and followed him. Not too close, but close enough to keep the tall man in sight.
When Chuck reached the western end of Escondido Mall, he turned north, instead of south toward the dorm. Zondra stayed on his trail as he turned west, again, a short time later. It looked like he might be going to Terman Library, but he turned off, once more, and entered the Huang Engineering Center. Zondra entered after him, following at a discrete distance until he walked into the School of Engineering Dean's office. Chuck was meeting with the Dean? What was that all about?
A/N2: Chapter title comes from the song by The Beatles, for obvious reasons. Come on, they can't all be serious observations of Chuck and Sarah's developing relationship.
A/N3: The stuff about the children of staff with over five years of service getting a tuition discount is all true. Check the Stanford website, if you're interested.
A/N4: A pull buoy is a swimming workout item. It is made of EVA foam and looks like an infinity symbol. A swimmer holds it between their legs, at the narrow part of the device, to isolate them and allow the swimmer to concentrate on working on the strength and form of their arm stroke. Another type of pull buoy looks like two short EVA foam cylinders held together with an adjustable nylon strap, otherwise used the same way just mentioned. Hand paddles are plastic and contoured in the shape of a hand with your fingers spread wide out, like an oversized mitten. The paddle has holes in various locations and either 2 or 3 rubber tubes that are threaded through the holes to allow you to slide your hand under the tubes and secure the paddle to your hand. One tube goes over the wrist, a second one normally secures the middle finger, and, if there is a third tube, it secures the thumb. The various holes allow the tubes to be relocated and adjusted. Using swim paddles allows the swimmer to get more resistance against the water. You generate more power from your arms, but you also work your arm muscles more than normal.
A/N5: The Olympic record for 1500 meters is just under 15 minutes. Regular, in shape folks can swim that distance in 30 minutes. I figure Chuck is somewhere in between those two times, closer to the record than to the average folks. If he swam 7000 meters total in his workout, how many apples did the engineer of the train have when Chuck was half finished with his workout? What's the answer? 33 because Rolling Rock beer. Yeah, I was going to make a point about the feasibility of Chuck's workout in the 2-hour time window I provided, but I started to have word problem flashbacks. So, reasons.
A/N6: WillieGarvin does the hard work here, beta reviewing my scribblings. I thank him for separating the wheat from the chaff.
A/N7: Thank you for getting this far and reading my endless A/Ns. Please drop me a PM or leave a review. Let me know what you think. Of the story, not the A/Ns (unless you think they're wonderful, of course).
A/N8: If you enjoy Chuck fan fiction here on the fanfic site, why don't you go over to Facebook and join the Chuck Fanfiction group that's there. You'll find a lot of nice folks who share your interest in our favorite spy couple. You are not alone.