A/N: Wow, I ask and you people deliver... in a big way! I was so happy to see the 100 reviews achieved so easily and I want to thank each and every one of you for making it entertaining and exhilirating to provide new chapters. Especially if the response is like that. The only thing I can do is keep asking you to review. Each and every review, no matter how negative (granted, if the critique is good. If not, then it's sort of meh) or positive is wholly appreciated.
Special thanks once again go out to my fantastic beta ShinyJayne20. She didn't beta this chapter completely, so any mistakes are probably mine. Her not beta'ing this one had to do with my promise to you, e.g. to deliver this chapter before Christmas. I didn't exactly make that, but well, I had a REALLY busy week and getting this done on Christmas morning isn't half bad either (It's 06:19 in my timezone) Anyway, on with the story.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it.
The Good Samaritan, Chapter 6
The Reminiscing
Burbank Buy More, California
Monday, 6 December, 2004
15:42
"Bartowski!"
The ever familiar voice boomed, leaving the already silent store just a bit quieter. Chuck who had been methodically explaining to a frantic kid how swiping magnets over hard drives did not reset them but actually served to destroy them completely, looked up and saw the voluptuous man standing in the doorway of his office.
"I'll be with you in a sec, Big Mike!" he shouted back, before focusing his attention on the kid again, who now looked close to tears. He wanted to help him, he really did. But other than selling him a new hard drive, there was nothing else he could do. The boy left dejectedly while Chuck peered out over the store. He figured he could slip out for a second to see what was up with the store manager.
He bolted from the desk and walked over to where Big Mike was still standing in the doorway, thoughtfully munching on one of the donuts that Chuck had brought to work. Big Mike was a lot easier to deal with if he had his daily fill of sugar-intake.
He shut the door before waggling over to his chair. Big Mike had lost the ability to walk like a normal human being, five clothing-sizes ago. As he sat down in his chair, which caused Chuck to wonder how exactly he afforded said chair as the store was barely turning a profit, he pawed another donut from the box, taking a bite and blowing out a deep breath. The man did not like coming into his own store.
"First off, Bartowski; I've got to ask. These donuts… are you trying to sweet talk me?"
"N… no, no, not at all sir. I just thought that since you liked donuts, I could give you some. There's no ulterior motive or anything, I just generally like being nice to people." His mouth turned into a lopsided grin and he tried to look as innocent as possible. The boss didn't need to know that his employees were indirectly keeping him in control by making sure he got his fix.
Mike dusted some of the powdered sugar from his mouth, before closing his eyes and stroking his chin thoughtfully. Chuck didn't utter a word. He had seen the consequences of breaking his concentration first hand. He was pretty sure that that employee had sustained a severe psychological trauma and would probably never be able to work again. It was that scary.
Although if Chuck was honest with himself, five minutes was an awfully long time to think.
"Sir?" he tried after the sixth minute, still somewhat scared by the possible outburst.
"I like you Bartowski," he replied before opening his eyes again. "Which makes it that much easier for me to tell you that you've earned yourself a trip to DC."
"What? Why?" Chuck stuttered.
"Because you..." He pointed a chubby finger at Chuck, "will be the first person in the greater Los Angeles area who gets a hands-on with the newest Roark laptop. And after that, you get to take it with you."
"Wow. That's amazing," Chuck said, nearly drooling in anticipation. Theodore Roark was a legend in the hardware industry. The Roark 6 was supposed to be the strongest of the strong, involving architecture that had yet to be seen by the most common hardware producers. As a matter of fact, rumors were circulating that the common manufacturers such as nVidia, ATi and Intel all based their architecture on Roark's designs. "But why me?"
"Because you're a good kid, Bartowski. You work hard which means that I don't have to work. I appreciate that in a man. Plus, do you think that we'd send Patel? I'm trying to better our rep, not destroy it. So when you get back, I had better hear stories of you and Roark being best friends. This is a golden opportunity that my boy Moses gave us, and we cannot afford to waste it. And that's why I'm sending you. It's a three day trip; you'll be flying out on the thirteenth and flying back on the sixteenth. I expect you to be back behind that desk on the seventeenth."
"But sir, I just got promoted to Nerd Herd supervisor. Are you sure it's smart to send me? Who would take care of Jeff and Lester? Who would get Morgan to start working?"
Big Mike sighed and grabbed another donut. He chewed half of it off in one go and when he was done munching, he said, "Bartowski, there are only a few things sweeter than this donut I'm eating now. One of them is watching the water lap against the side of your boat, swaying along as if you're floating on the Lord's palm while he softly rocks you to sleep. The other is Mrs. Tang." He bit his lip in arousal and Chuck wished that some brilliant mind would've invented brain bleach. The images that his mind had conjured up almost served to get him reacquainted with his breakfast. "Now," Big Mike continued, "since she's nowhere to be found and neither is a lake, son, you had best go to that conference. No excuses."
Chuck knew when he was defeated and arguing with the boss was never a battle that could be won. He relented and stood up to leave. He opened the door, but before he could walk through he heard Mike saying, "And if any of those fools get wise with me, I'll introduce them to my disco stick."
Chuck, for reasons pertaining to his own sanity, decided to act like he didn't just hear that.
He trudged back to the Nerd Herd counter and let his head fall on the counter. He was excited to go to DC. After all, who wouldn't want to visit the main Roark Industries office at the nation's capital city? Sure, they had a location in L.A. as well, and that would become the main office in a year or so, since Roark claimed that he didn't like the weather in their current location but it all started in Washington DC.
But he had a responsibility. It wasn't that he didn't trust Big Mike with regards to keep his staff in check. He just didn't trust Big Mike to bother showing up in this dump for the time that it took him to go on this business trip.
He felt, rather than heard, Lester slither up to him. Of course, the smell of beer that came from Lester's shadow, Jeff, was a good indication as well. "So Charles, did the big man finally cut you down? Did he kick you of your pedestal that you've claimed as your own ever since you were promoted to Nerd Herd supervisor?"
"I would've made a great supervisor," Jeff slurred.
"That you would've, Jeffrey," Lester said as he patted him on the back. It caused Jeff to belch. "So Bartowski, when can I expect Big Mike to tell me that I am the new supervisor?"
"Actually, it was nothing like that." Chuck decided that he had no intention of further indulging Lester and promptly turned to look for Morgan. He would be sufficiently excited to share in Chuck's joy.
"Oh, I see how it is. You're too busy for us normal people. We get it don't we, eh Jeffrey? Let's go and see if we can get an early round at Bennies."
Jeff walked behind the Hin-Jew while slightly swaying, indicating at least a medium level of intoxication at four in the afternoon. Chuck narrowed his eyes and hollered, "Guys, you're still on shift!"
"We're taking a break," Lester called back.
"You just had one, ten minutes ago!"
"Don't care Bartowski!" he shouted and then they were gone. Chuck shook his head and set off to find Morgan. He found him hanging around the DVD collections, trying to chat up customers.
"Morgan."
The little man's head swiveled around and connected with Chuck. He instantly left the conversation he was having and joined up with him. "What's up, Chuck?"
"Bro, you're not going to believe this."
"What?"
"Make a guess," he said, the smile ghosting on his lips.
"You just met Vicky Vale and you're going on a date?"
Chuck's face fell slightly. Nothing could beat that. "Sadly, no. But I am being sent to Washington to get the new Roark 6 laptop, courtesy of Big Mike!"
"Dude, what?" Morgan exclaimed. "Those aren't out for another four months!"
"I know man, I'm so stoked."
Morgan's eyes widened. "Oh man, Ellie is going to freak! You haven't left Burbank since Stanford."
"Well, it's not like she can forbid me to go," said Chuck, smiling. "I'm an adult now. And besides, this might be good for me. Maybe a change of scenery is what I need to… you know."
"Oh man, I get ya. I do." The bearded man shrugged knowingly. "Well, as I'm sure you know, when something good happens, Ellie makes something special. So let's say, seven at your house?"
Chuck beamed. "See you there. Peddle safe, buddy."
He walked back to the desk and sat back down. It was only a matter of time before he would be done with working and would get some of Ellie's fantastic cooking. Maybe follow it up with some Halo and Chuck's night would be, to borrow the term from the Captain himself, awesome.
Ellie and Chuck's apartment, Echo Park
Monday, 6 December, 2004
18:30
The door opened and Ellie walked in looking very disheveled. There were bags under her half-lidded eyes; her hair was also beginning to come out of her messy bun. To put it simply, she was exhausted and it showed. Trailing in behind her was Devon Woodcomb, awesome boyfriend and arch-nemesis to one Morgan Grimes. The rivalry was one-sided of course, as the younger bearded man stood no chance to woo Chuck's sister. So as much as he loved Morgan like a brother, he thought that Ellie and Devon were perfect for each other. That was what mattered to him most above everything else: Ellie's happiness.
"Hey Chuck," she said before tossing her set of keys haphazardly through the air. With a graceful arc, they landed in the bowl. It used to amaze Chuck, but nowadays it was as normal as watching her save lives on a daily basis.
Now that he thought about it, his sister was pretty damn amazing.
He regarded both of them with a smile and nod. "Hey sis…Devon."
Despite working long hours at the hospital, Devon grinned. "Chuckster! Sup hombre?"
"Not much. I have some good news actually." Chuck stood up from the couch and allowed Devon and Ellie to take his spot while he moved over to stand next to the TV. "I'm flying out to Washington DC in a week for a business trip."
"What? What?" Ellie flew up from the couch, the earlier fatigue completely forgotten. "How? Why?"
"Calm down, Ellie," he said, a grin plastered on his face. He guided her back to the couch before taking a seat across from them in a chair. "Basically, Big Mike managed to get an entry into a private Roark Industries exposition and he wants me to go."
"Roark Industries?" Ellie asked, scrounging her eyebrows. "Didn't they make that laptop that you own?"
Chuck nodded. "Yeah, the Roark 5. They're revealing the Roark 6 at the exposition and they're allowing the attendees to take one of them home. And somehow, Big Mike managed to get a spot in them and he picked me!" The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to go. Chuck didn't like showing off, but it was a Roark 6 after all. But more than that, it was the realization that Big Mike truly cared for him. After all, he could've demanded that it'd be placed on display and he hadn't. So maybe his contributions weren't all for nothing. At least one person seemed to appreciate what he did, bar Ellie and Morgan of course.
"That's great, Chuck!" Ellie congratulated him. She walked over and pulled him into a medium-strength Ellie-Hug. "I'm glad to see that others are beginning to see your potential."
Of course, she left unsaid that he had the potential for so much more, but they had been doing that particular dance for a while now and so far Chuck had yet to concede.
"How long you going over there?" Devon asked.
"Three days. I fly out on Monday, the convention's on Tuesday, Wednesday is mine and I fly back on Thursday."
"Awesome! So are you going to be tearing it up at night?"
"Uh, don't know yet. But I'm definitely going to see some sights!" Chuck wasn't particularly a fan of barhopping. He'd been to a few bars with Bryce during his college years, and it was fun going as a big group. But being alone would give off of a vibe that Chuck didn't feel would help him in the long run.
"Well, whatever you decide to do, it's nice to see the enthusiasm return, little brother. See Devon, this was the Chuck I was talking about before… you know who. Confident, excited, charming." She smoothed the fabric of his starch-white shirt and looked up at him. "It's nice to have you back brother."
"Wait, you're telling me that this Chuck is the one that had always been around? Bro, I have to say, I've always enjoyed your company a lot, but seeing you like this… I've got to start taking you out some more."
Chuck grinned. He knew this was a big deal to Ellie, seeing him come back to his old self for a bit, even though he still wasn't completely over Jill, nor would he ever really be. After all, who could replace her? But she loved seeing him like this and he actually felt pretty decent for a change.
And besides, the laptop was really freaking cool.
"Well, in celebration of people finally recognizing my little brother for the talent that he deserves, I'm making a special dinner tonight."
Chuck smiled. He did love it when Ellie would cook. But still, she had a long day and he didn't want to push her. Even if it meant that he had to cook. Although in his case, he would probably phone Morgan and ask him to pick up some Sizzling Shrimp from the Bamboo Dragon. But still. "Sis, you don't have to do this. I'm perfectly fine with ordering something."
"Nonsense," she said as she got back up and started walking to the kitchen. Chuck sent a helpless, pleading look to Devon. Maybe he could convince her that it wasn't necessary. But the shrug he got in return said that not even the most awesome of Captains could stop Ellie when she put her mind to something. And it was most definitely on food right now.
Pots and pans were almost flying through the kitchen and Ellie was moving at an impossibly high speed, turning on the stove, getting meat and vegetables from the fridge and onto a cutting board. It was honestly a little scary to see someone so adept with a knife.
Chuck glanced at his watch and noted that it was close to 7 PM. Just a few more…
A knock on the door halted his thoughts and he went to open it. Morgan bounded through, looking like an excited puppy. Of course the comparison wasn't that far off since Morgan often acted like a puppy when it came to Ellie's cooking. This was no exception.
"What is he doing here?" Ellie asked, her expression vaguely horrified at the sight of the man-child.
"I asked him if he wanted to come and celebrate with me," Chuck replied, a lopsided grin taking over his face. Ellie had never really been able to say no to that grin and she relented.
"Fine, I guess you can stay, Morgan. But so help me God, if you mess up this dinner, I will kick you out of this house without a single regret." Ellie's face had contorted to one of extreme distaste and Chuck had to remind himself that not everyone was as fond of the little man as he was. Of course, those people didn't have Morgan helping them out when their parents left them.
But then again, Morgan did a fantastic job of not appearing impressed in the slightest. The threat barely fazed him.
"So what's for dinner?"
Recovery room, Washington Hospital Center
Friday, December 17th, 2004
10:35
The fist landed on his arm with quite the amount of strength behind it. Sarah would've flinched, had she not seen it coming from a mile away. "Ow! Need I remind you that I got stabbed a few days ago? Please keep the physical violence to a minimum."
"That was for using your damn charm to let Morgan stay! I can't believe you would do such a thing to your sister." Ellie responded. Sarah fought to keep the giggle at bay.
"For what it's worth, I've never used my powers for evil."
"No only when you…" Ellie stopped mid-sentence as she seemed to be figuring something out. "Only when you wanted something that involved Morgan!" she seethed. "Consider us on a no-speaking term until further notice." She crossed her arms in an indignant pose, but Sarah caught the brief smile that flickered over her face.
"Where was I…? Oh right, so the rest of the week went pretty smooth. Then, on Tuesday, I went to the conference."
Downtown Washington, Washington D.C
Tuesday, December 14th, 2004
15:39
Chuck rushed along the crowd, his curls bouncing wildly on his forehead. He had his messenger bag slung across his shoulder and was finishing the last few bites of his sandwich. Roark had given them time for a late lunch and after that, they would get some time for one-on-ones, plus they would get the new Roark 6 laptop. The presentation had been interesting. Chuck likened Theodore Roark to Willy Wonka. He was eccentric, sure. But he was a certified genius. He was a true visionary of the electronic world.
His step faltered when his eyes settled on a beautiful face within the crowd. It was a woman with gorgeous blonde hair. She was a shorter than he was, but not by much, which considering his length was quite special. She wore a simple combination of a light-brown (he swore it was the same color as Mal's trench coat) leather jacket, a pair of jeans and some high heels, but it struck Chuck as gorgeous nonetheless. He shook his head and increased his pace. He had no intention of wasting a valuable chance like the one he had right now. He would do everything in his capabilities to ensure that by that time tomorrow, Theodore Roark would know everything there was to know about the Buy More.
He crossed the street at the intersection and walked back into the conference hall. People were already lined up, waiting to be allowed into the grand auditorium again, the one where just a few hours ago, Theodore Roark had blown everyone away. The specifications that the machine had with regards to its hardware were mindboggling. Chuck glanced around the room and found nothing but people who shared similar hobbies to him. It wasn't a big surprise, considering the fact that the laptop was mostly used as a mobile gaming device. He recognized a few reviewers from PC magazines, but most of them were simply gaming journalists. It made him wonder just what exactly Big Mike's 'boy Moses' had done to secure him a place between these people.
The doors opened and smoke billowed out. That was new. "Gentlemen, prepare yourselves," a PA blared through the waiting room. "Heeeeeeeereeeeee's TEDDY!"
Jock Jams 'Let's Get Ready to Rumble' blared through the small hall as Theodore Roark ran out; hoisted in a completely different outfit than the one he was in just hours before. Chuck couldn't help but think back to Space Jam as Roark came out in a LA Lakers outfit, complete with sweatbands for both his wrists and his head. The collective response was a few extra blinks to make sure no one had lost their minds. Apparently no one had.
Bar Roark, of course.
The music died down and Roark went around, personally talking to everyone. Chuck had a serious case of being star struck, but he knew a lot of people were depending on him to be cool. So he wiggled himself into his Charles Carmichael persona, self-made billionaire, winner of the American Cup, and waited for the inevitable meet-up.
"Ah, you must be Chuck Bartowski,"
"Uh, what?" The carefully constructed façade fell in seconds. He had been ready to introduce himself. Charles Bartowski, supervisor of the technical staff at the Burbank Buy More (because Nerd Herd supervisor didn't really demand the same respect). Instead, Roark talked like he had known Chuck his entire life. "If I may ask sir, how do you know my name?"
"That's easy, son. It says it right there on your pocket protector."
Chuck looked down when he realized that he had indeed brought along his pocket protector. "Ah… I see… very observant of you, sir."
Roark bellowed a laugh. "Call me Ted."
Chuck threw on his best lopsided smile. "Hi Ted… as you might've guessed, I'm Chuck."
Downtown Washington
Tuesday, December 14th, 2004
17:20
Chuck was feeling pretty pleased with himself. After all, it wasn't every day that Theodore Roark would shoot the breeze with someone he had only just met. And to treat him like a friend was something that truly baffled Chuck. He figured that Roark would be like any other celebrity and simply shrug away any one-on-one meetings. Instead, Roark made sure to socialize with every attendee and Chuck had even managed to give him his Buy More card. In return, he got a card from Roark Industries. How cool was that?
But the coolest thing of all, he felt when he was walking through the streets. The comfortable weight of the newest Roark laptop in his messenger bag. Holy bejeezus, it was so awesome.
He glanced around and couldn't stop the silly grin from spreading. Here he was, in the nation's capital, having the most amazing laptop in the world in his possession and he had a day left to explore the city, expenses paid. He had to actually pinch himself when he woke up in his hotel that morning.
He sped up a bit, not wanting to wait a second longer in getting to explore his new toy. However, he stopped in his tracks when he heard a moan coming from an alleyway. His mind went to places it shouldn't have gone, but he couldn't help himself. It really did sound like…
"Help," he heard the voice moan.
Okay, that definitely wasn't a pleasured moan.
Abandoning his resolve to get back to the hotel, he instead walked into the alley, trying to locate the source of the moaning. The farther he walked into the alley, the worse his nerves got. What if the guy was…? He didn't want his mind to finish that question. He just hoped that if it was in fact the worst case scenario, there wouldn't be any blood.
The moaning returned, this time increased in volume and Chuck spotted a dumpster, close to the end of the alley. As he peered around the corner, he saw a man clutching his chest, near the heart area. Quickly he sat down. "Sir, are you alright?" The man didn't give off a response and Chuck grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "Sir, are you with me?" The man still didn't respond, other than the occasional moan. Chuck decided that he had seen enough and it was time to call an ambulance. He stood up and reached for his phone. He had just pressed the first one when he felt an arm slither up his neck and pulling tight. The phone flew out of his hands and clattered on the pavement. The man's grip was iron tight and he felt the oxygen slowly depleting.
"Take everything he has," he heard the man say. Two big men strode from behind a corner of the wall and walked up to him. Chuck's eyes went wild, trying to find an escape, but the more frantic he became, the more he began to realize that it was futile and his best chances for survival were complying and hoping that his stuff was all they wanted.
That was around the time that he felt the adrenaline kick in. Without truly mulling it over, his elbow flew back, hitting the lanky man that had a hold of him in the sternum. He obviously didn't expect any resistance and his hold briefly faltered, releasing Chuck's windpipe and giving him a chance to escape. He didn't waste a second and bolted from the scene. He ran past the burly men with a display of agility that would have Neo salivating. He saw the alley split up. The road straight ahead would lead to a dead end. So surely, if he would turn right he would…
The profanity that left his lips when he found out that the turn he made led to a dead end as well would've made him blush, if he wasn't so terrified. He turned around and saw the robbers stalk up to him. "Look," he called out. "I'll drop my wallet and you'll let me go, okay?"
The lanky man laughed. "Do you really think that this is how it works?"
"Yes?" he tried. He hoped to God that all the time spent reading comic books wasn't for naught and that any moment now, his own personal superhero or guardian angel could swoop in and save him. Of course, he wasn't born yesterday. He knew that in the situation he was in would lead to a bad ending. He just hoped that he would live to tell the tale one day.
"Think again, kiddo," the leader replied, while one of the goons pulled out a knife.
Kiddo? "Uh, FYI, I'm twenty-three. You don't look a day over twenty-five." He wanted to slap himself in frustration. Hadn't he learned anything from years and years of watching action flicks? Never backtalk the hostage taker (or robber, in this case) unless you wanted to enter a serious world of hurt.
Instead, the robber seemed merely amused. "Obviously you don't know how this works, so I'll cut you some slack. Hand over everything."
Chuck pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed it in front of the robbers. "Take it."
"Your messenger bag too," the burly man, with greased back black hair grunted.
"There's nothing in there," Chuck replied. Okay, that was a total lie, but Chuck had no intention of letting the Roark 6 get in the hands of those people. He knew that Roark wasn't stupid, that he had made sure that every computer had a digital tag. And if the computer would make its way on the black market and Roark found out that it was his, then his credibility would be ruined. And even worse, considering the fact that his credibility had already been ruined since Stanford, the store's credibility would suffer.
"Wrong answer," the thug said and he ran forward with surprising speed. Chuck got pushed back and landed against the wall. He heard the other thug scream.
"What the fuck? That wasn't the plan!"
"Shut the fuck up and help me get this bag!"
Chuck's chest was pulled forward and he heard a wet, sopping sound as the blade he had been stabbed with, was pulled from his chest. Part of the blade got caught on his pocket protector which was pulled out of his shirt's pocket and fell to the concrete. His eyes focused on the blood and with a morbid fascination, he watched as his life essence dripped off the blade, the reflecting glint of the metal intensified by the crimson color that had washed over it.
Then he felt the pain.
Seconds later, his survival instinct kicked in.
He threw away the carrier bag and with strength he didn't knew he possessed, he threw the big man off him, elbowed the other one in the ribs and dashed away, as fast as his long legs could carry him. He ran past the blasted dumpster that had held his personal Siren's call, the pleading cry of a human being. He ran past the walls that made him feel trap and finally he saw the mass of people walking past the damned alley and he burst through into the crowd.
"Please help me," he said, asking every pedestrian he could find to please for the love of God get him some help. He clung to a woman who had groceries in her hand. Chuck didn't care. He just needed to get the hell away from that alley.
"Let me go, you freak!" she shouted, before shrugging away from him and speed-walking to her destination. The shout had caused unwanted commotion and people started staring at him.
"Please," he begged in a softer voice than normal. He looked around him, frantically. His eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to see some empathy, but all he found was revulsion or blank stares. Then his eyes connected with the lanky man. This was not good. They were obviously going to drag him in another alley and finish the job.
He burst through the crowd and stood frozen to the spot. His eyes connected with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. And while normally, he would've acted like a bumbling idiot given his reputation for when it came to talking to beautiful women, today was anything but normal. "Please, please help me," he croaked, before he felt his legs buckle from under him and the pavement headed his way with frightening speed.
After that, his world went black. The last thing he found himself thinking was that he hoped he would still be alive after this whole ordeal got finished.
Recovery room, Washington Hospital Center
Friday, December 17th, 2004
11:00
"After that, I woke up a couple of times and apparently had an interesting chat with Miss Walker over here…" He grinned in her direction and Sarah's world briefly brightened. "…but other than that, that's about all I can remember, until I woke up in here."
"A… robbery?" Ellie asked, trembling on her chair and only just able to keep the rage inside. "My baby brother got stabbed because of the fact that he was trying to help someone?"
"Ellie, please. What your brother tried to do was noble and…"
"Stop it," Ellie retorted and it almost sounded like a plea. "I know… I just… I can't believe what this world is coming to when my baby brother gets stabbed because of a fucking robbery!" The last few words exploded out of her mouth like a white hot rage and after the violent outburst, she literally collapsed in Devon's arms, who whispered soothing words in her ear.
It took a tense couple of minutes, but Devon managed to talk her into a more peaceful state of mind. She looked up, but instead of looking at Chuck, she looked straight at Sarah.
"Did they catch the bastards?"
Sarah shook her head. "No, not all of them. They caught the two side-kicks, but the leader is still out there. I did give my statement to an officer and I told him I would be available as a witness when this matter goes to court."
"Good," Ellie said, the venom in her tone still apparent, but slightly less vehement than before.
"Holy shit!" Chuck exclaimed. "What about the laptop?"
Sarah shook her head. "We haven't found it."
"Oh crap! I got to get in touch with Roark. If he finds out then…"
Sarah put her finger on his lips, stopping him mid-ramble, which surprised the hell out of… well, everyone in the room. "Don't worry," she said, her voice just a touch breathy. "I'll take care of it."
She removed her finger and stood up, intent on making sure that Roark understood that under no circumstances was Chuck Bartowski to blame for the loss of his precious laptop.
Recovery room, Washington Hospital Center
Friday, December 17th, 2004
22:15
The day drew to an end. After Chuck's explanation, Sarah had actually managed to get in touch with Roark, who promised them that it was no big deal. The man even offered to send Chuck a new one, free of charge. Sarah was surprised at the generosity of the man and at first suspected that it might've been a ploy. But Chuck assured her that Roark was an honest man and that he would feel honored to get another one, and beyond grateful. So she accepted the offer on his behalf and that was that.
The day had gone rather smooth after that. They entertained each other with stories and general gossip. Sarah of course mainly stayed away from the gossip talk. Her gossip mainly consisted of who was building nuclear weapons and what the annual stockholders meeting from Smith and Wesson contained. She was a proud owner of a stock and she made sure to keep up to date on the latest happenings within them.
She had managed to run home and grab a quick shower and a change of clothes while the rest stayed with Chuck. Still, her shower took the bare minimum of time and before she knew it, she was back at his side.
Ellie, Devon and Morgan had gone to the hotel at around nine, leaving Sarah with Chuck. Sarah had finally given up the ridiculous notion that it was because she was scared he might code again and just accepted the fact that it was nice to be in his vicinity. It almost felt like having her blankie again, the one that she had lost when her father had taken her away. And besides, the only one she was fooling with her reasoning for staying, was she herself.
She threw off her clothes and lay down in the cool bed. "Sweet dreams, Chuck."
"I sure hope so," he muttered, before replying, "You too."
She knew she should protest, wondering what his comment was all about. But she decided that she was too tired to care. She snuggled into the comforter and her eyes drooped almost as if on cue.
The nightmare came back.
A/N2: Since it worked so amazingly well the last time around, I will go ahead and beg for reviews. Let's try and reach 130 this time! I would love for that to happen and hey, it might just inspire me to write faster (and start planning a sequel :D)
Happy holidays everyone. Hope you have a blast.