I don't own Chuck
Note: As will become clear, this isn't a Green Feet story!
France, May 2011
"Shit!" The woman's voice was muffled and came from the other side of a rather dusty SUV which stood at the side of the road.
Chuck raised his eyebrows. He hadn't heard too much English being spoken outside of his own immediate group while he'd been in this part of the world. It seemed that the southern French weren't that keen on the English-speaking peoples. In other parts of France that he'd been to, the people had been at least prepared to speak a little English, but not really here. Luckily he'd learnt a few words of French in the past few years and their group had had a translator at times as well, so it hadn't been too difficult for him on the trip so far.
This part of the world was the beautiful Luberon region of southern France's Vaucluse department. When his brother-in-law Devon had been looking for a place to go for a cycling holiday, which would be good training for a forthcoming sponsored event, Chuck had been able to suggest this region; he'd heard it was absolutely beautiful, and so it had proven to be. The amazing azure-blue skies, the fields – green at this time of the year – although surely browner later in the year, and the amazing red of the poppies that grew at the side of the roads and in some of the fields.
And the cycling was amazing. Strenuous in places, certainly. But amazing, nevertheless. There was a reason that the Tour de France came to this region time and again, and now Chuck understood it. There was also a reason a plethora of famous painters had chosen this region and he understood that now, too. The light was totally breath-taking. Chuck had travelled all over his home country and to many other parts of the world and he'd very rarely seen anywhere as fantastic as this place.
And the food was pretty good too. If you were a meat eater, then this place was brilliant. If you liked your fish, then it was good too. Even the vegetables and fruit tasted different; particularly the cherries you could pluck from the trees at the side of the road. And he'd seen peach and nectarine trees, almonds and plums as well. This was a veritable paradise if you wanted to grow your own food.
Of course, there was another fruit that this place was famous for too; grapes. And he was very much looking forward to some of the wine tasting trips that they'd be taking over the next week now that the more energetic part of their holiday was nearly behind them. They had a couple more cycling days but mixed in with that they'd be visiting wine cellars, hilltop villages and monasteries. He couldn't wait.
Suddenly remembering the exclamation, he looked up and down the street. Devon and his friend Andy were sitting at the café on the square and taking in the general ambience of the village. Andy waved to him and he smiled, returning the gesture. His brother-in-law's fraternity brother seemed like a nice guy although he had been by far the most accident-prone of the group on the trip so far. They were stopping in this beautiful village to rest Andy's sprained ankle from earlier that day. The village was filled with tourists like themselves and there was a fair amount of foot traffic up the cobbled street that he was standing on.
"Can I help you?" he asked in the direction of the woman's voice.
"Pardon?" came a muffled reply in a French accent.
"Oh sorry," he said apologetically, "I thought you spoke English since you were swearing in it."
There was a small pause and then a muffled, "Merde!" Then another pause and a louder. "Sorry, yes, I do." He smiled internally as the woman offered her explanation in a thick, but still rather attractive French accent.
"Can I help you then?" he asked, peering over the top of the old silver SUV but not seeing the woman.
"Please," the woman said in her liltingly beautiful accent. "I was trying to tighten the new wheel, but I can't quite get it."
Chuck raised an eyebrow before moving around the front of the car. "Your English is very good. Did you go to school in England?"
"Oh, er yes," the woman replied, and Chuck's breath left him as he set eyes on her.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. Dirty blonde, nearly brown hair, covered by a black baseball cap but with strands poking out, simple blue T-shirt and jeans, and the most amazing set of eyes he thought he'd ever seen.
She quirked a smile at him. "See something you like?" she enquired with a grin.
"Oh, er sorry," Chuck apologised, backing up. "Sorry I was staring. My sister would be pissed. She brought me up better than to stare at every pretty girl I see!"
"Pretty?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Thank you for the compliment."
"Oh, er," Chuck stuttered. While he used to be nervous when younger, he didn't stutter much these days but somehow this woman managed to bring it out of him. "So what's wrong with the tyre?" he asked, trying to get back onto safer ground.
She smirked at him. A knowing smirk as though she knew exactly what he was doing.
"I just can't get the nut fastened," she grumped. Her accent made it sound like "nert".
This time he raised an eyebrow. "Stiff nut?" he asked facetiously.
She grinned. "I suppose I walked straight into that," she replied, and he smiled along with her.
"Would you like me to try?" he asked.
"If you don't mind," she replied and he came fully around the car, bending down by the front wheel. He'd expected her to move away but she stayed close and, as he knelt down on the ground, she pressed up against his back and leaned over to see what he was doing. "It's that one," she pointed.
He tightened the socket over the nut and smoothly twisted it and the nut tightened smoothly. He looked up at the woman. "Seemed OK," he observed.
"You must have the touch," she replied, letting her hand rest on his shoulder for a moment. "Thank you for your help, Mister?" Her voice rose after the "mister", clearly indicating the question.
"Oh, just Chuck," he replied, standing. Her hand slipped off his shoulder and trailed down his back and then he turned to face her. He was a little taller than her, but not massively so. Her five-ten versus his six-three meant that their eyes were close enough to being level.
"Well thank you, just Chuck," she said, a ghost of a smile on her face. "That was very kind of you. what brings you to France?"
He smiled. "I'm on a cycling holiday with my brother-in-law and a few of our friends," he replied. "They're practising for a race, and I said I'd join them. I've always wanted to come to this part of the world."
"And did it live up to your expectations?" the woman asked.
"It's beautiful," Chuck said. "An amazing place. It must be fantastic to live here."
The woman gave a genuine smile. Her eyes shone and her cheeks dimpled. "I'm pleased you like it," she said. "We're very lucky to live here."
"We?" he asked.
"My younger sister and I," the woman answered. "We live together."
"Oh," he replied. "How old is your sister?"
"She's four and a half," the woman replied, with a warm smile, obviously thinking about her sister. Then seeing his questioning look, she added. "My parents are out of the picture, so I'm her mother now."
A call of "Chuck, where are you?" came from down the street, and he flinched.
"That's very brave of you," he observed, not really ready for the conversation to end, but knowing it was only a matter of time until the others caught up with him.
She smiled at him, slightly sadly. "She deserves it. She's a good girl." She looked over her shoulder and smiled sadly. "Your friends?" she asked.
"Yes," he returned her sad smile.
"Well, thank you for your help, Chuck," she said, packing her repair kit away. "I enjoyed talking with you." She made to open the car door.
"You didn't tell me your name, mademoiselle?" he tried, not ready to let her go just yet.
She gave him an impish grin. "No I didn't did I?" She held his eyes for a while then clearly took pity on him. "My name is Nicole," she allowed.
"Nicole," he repeated. "Enchanté." He flinched as another call of his name came, from nearer this time. She gave him a sad smile and climbed into the driver's seat and he gently shut the door.
"Nice to meet you as well Chuck, and enjoy your travels." She started the engine, gave him a wave and drove off.
He stared after her for a few seconds and then went to find Captain Awesome. He could do with some cheering up.
"In a hurry, Chuckster?" Devon's teasing voice, only slightly out of breath, came up from behind where he, Andy and Jeff were in a group. It was late-morning and the town of Bonnieux awaited them, which was to be their location for lunch before a speed run up the Calavon cycle trail to get them back to their hotel by the evening in time for dinner.
Chuck was riding slightly ahead of Mike, another of Devon's frat buddies. While he quite liked Andy, Mike was a different question. The man was an obnoxious bully in Chuck's opinion and he just could not understand what Devon saw in him.
"Yeah, maybe he's hoping to see his 'mystery lady'?" Mike suggested sarcastically. The guys had been taunting him all day about his meeting with Nicole the day before yesterday. He'd had to explain to Devon why he'd had to call for him a few times and then Mike had jumped in, asking if he'd made the meeting up. While Devon, Jeff and Andy had made a few jokey references to Nicole, Mike just would not let it go and had made a string of references over the past thirty-six hours. Chuck was not generally a violent person, but he had been quite close to punching Mike a few times today.
For now, Chuck decided to channel his aggression into riding and focused on simply pushing through the climb, enjoying himself as he left Mike and the others far behind. He slowed as he reached the top of the hill and the small level section, before gliding into a small decline. The view as he descended was amazing. On the left was a steep drop while a small valley lay off to the right-hand side, filled with vines and fruit trees. He could just see a stone farmhouse set about half a mile back from the road up a straight driveway lined with conifers and what looked like lavender bushes. There was a clear yard area around the property and he could just make out a walled garden and a swimming pool. They hadn't experienced it, but he'd been told that the northerly wind here, called the mistral, could be bitter during the non-summer months. Most pools were protected by natural or man-made windbreaks.
He crossed a bridge and noted the red streak on the parapet on the right side, and slowed down slightly, allowing the heavily-breathing Mike to pull up, then overtake. What happened next was over so quickly it was difficult to piece together. Mike's bike seemed to get a puncture and he skidded across the road, Chuck braked but not fast enough and collided with Mike's bike, pushing him off the road. Bike and rider slid down the side of the ravine and came to a stop half in and half out of the currently-dry stream bed for which the bridge had been built.
Chuck managed to get control of his bike and stopped, looking over his shoulder to see Devon and the others just cresting the hill. He gestured, trying to catch their attention. When Devon saw him, he shouted. "We got a problem! He fell down." With that he pushed his bike down, kicked some gravel over the side and then started to skid down the steep ravine, trying to get to the injured rider.
Getting to the bottom he ran up to the man. He was conscious and clearly trying not to scream and the reason was obvious as Chuck looked down at his leg and then looked away. When he was younger he probably would have fainted or puked because of all the blood. He wasn't so squeamish now, but he didn't have to like it.
He clasped the man's shoulder gently. "Gonna be OK Mike," he told the moaning man.
"How is he Chuckster?" called Devon.
"Compound fracture, right leg!" Chuck called up. "We need you!"
While Devon's specialty was cardio thoracic surgery, like his sister Ellie who specialised in neurophysiology, Devon had done his share of ER shifts and was pretty reasonable on emergency medicine. He was sure that Devon would be able to help and, as it happened, Jeff was also a doc, though in this case a paediatrician. Nevertheless, between the two of them, they should be able to sort Mike out.
Devon grabbed the first aid pack and skidded down towards Chuck, Jeff following. In the meantime, Chuck checked his phone.
"No signal," he called out to Andy who'd stayed on the road as the docs descended. "Can you get any?" Andy pulled out his phone, looked at it, shook it and then shook his head.
"No!" he called.
Devon and Jeff had now arrived and were looking over the injured man. Chuck waylaid Devon and told him. "There's no signal but there's a farm over there, I saw it on the way down. I'll take Andy and try and find help."
"OK Chuckster," Devon acknowledged, as Chuck set about climbing back up the ravine, which took considerably longer than heading down.
"There's a farm over there," he panted to Andy, once he'd got onto the road, pointing across the valley. "I'm hoping they have a phone or satellite and can call an ambulance."
Andy agreed and carefully they rode down the hill to the wide gates which marked the end of the driveway. The gates didn't appear to be in great repair, they were very rusted, but on further inspection they looked solid enough. There was an intercom set into one of the gate posts, next to a grey metal post box which had the number 900 on it.
Chuck pressed the button. There was no answer and he pressed it again.
"Oui?" A woman's voice, sounding slightly annoyed.
Andy spoke no French and Chuck had been working out in his mind what to say. "Pouvez-vous nous aider?" he asked, conscious of his not particularly good accent. Still, hopefully he'd be understandable. "Mon ami est tombé de son bicyclette et il est blessé. Je dois appeler un ambulance."
"Venez," the woman's voice said, and the gates started to open.
Andy and he looked at each other quizzically. The woman was clearly one of few words, but they seemed to have passed her test. They rode up the driveway. Close to he could see that the lavender between the conifers was near to flowering and the beds were also dotted with other purple flowers. As they drew up to the farmhouse, the door opened.
"Nicole?" exclaimed Chuck as the mystery woman appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a red T-shirt, her hair in a ponytail, but it was indeed Nicole.
"This is Nicole?" Andy asked. "Wow, she's a hottie. Your description didn't do her justice."
Chuck blushed as Nicole raised an eyebrow at Chuck. "Thank you," she said with her accent just as noticeable as the previous night. Andy blushed even brighter than Chuck as he realised she spoke pretty good English.
"I didn't know if I'd see you again Chuck," she said. "I certainly didn't expect you to turn up at my door." She grinned at him.
"Sorry," Chuck replied, "I wasn't expecting my friend to fall down a ravine next to your home."
"No, I guess not," Nicole replied, looking serious, the playful expression gone. "Where is the accident?" she asked, now more business-like.
"About a quarter of a mile up the hill," Chuck replied since Andy still seemed struck dumb.
"OK," Nicole replied. "Come in, I'll call for an ambulance and then you can guide me there. I'll help translate for the medics."
"Thanks," Chuck replied. "You don't need to. I can muddle my way through."
"Don't worry," she replied, beckoning them in and leading them down a corridor into a well-equipped kitchen. "Make yourselves at home, help yourselves to water," she said gesturing at a refrigerator. She picked up a phone, dialled a few numbers and started to speak in quickfire French.
After looking around the kitchen for a little, Chuck snagged a mug from the draining board and filled it up from a bottle of water sitting on a table. He snagged another and passed it over to Andy, who thanked him gratefully.
Nicole concluded her call and hung up. "OK, they're on their way," she reported at Chuck's enquiring look. "But they're coming from Apt so it'll take about twenty five minutes. I'll head up with you in a few minutes. Will your friend be OK waiting for the ambulance?" she asked.
"Two of our group are doctors," Andy replied, having finally found his voice, "So he should be OK."
"OK," said Nicole. "Let me find my keys and then we can go."
They had loaded the two bikes into a small van which Nicole led them to. It was a far cry from the big Ford vans that Chuck was used to. Nicole grinned at Chuck's shocked expression.
"You may have noticed, but we have smaller roads," she explained. Nevertheless the bicycles fitted in easily and Andy piled into the back seat, with Chuck riding shotgun.
Chuck had to hang onto the roof grip as the car shot forward along the driveway. "Oh shit!" he gasped as Andy squeaked. Both were pushed back into their seats by the acceleration.
"Welcome to France," observed Nicole, clicking a remote control which opened the gates. The car shot around the corner, nearly on two wheels, and arrived at the crash site a few seconds later.
"Devon!" Chuck called, clambering out. He could see the two doctors working on the prone man. "Ambulance is on its way!" he shouted as Devon looked up at him. "How is he?"
"Stabilised!" called Jeff, "We're just about to move him up."
"Do you need a hand?" Chuck called.
"Yeah!" was the reply.
Chuck turned to Nicole but she was already heading down the ravine. He followed her as Andy brought up the rear.
"This is Nicole," he introduced as they reached the bottom. "She speaks English," he added to offset any potentially embarrassing comments about her awesomeness or hotness.
"Wow, Chuckster," exclaimed Devon, "You never said." He paused. "Thank you for your help, madame."
Nicole dimpled a grin. "You're welcome," she said. "You're the second person to say that. Just how did he describe me?" she asked. "Did he say I was ugly?"
"I did not!" Chuck exclaimed. "I said you were very pretty, they just didn't believe me."
"Maybe we'll talk about this later," Nicole said, shooting what may have been called a glare. "Let's get your friend up to the road for the ambulance."
They all fitted action to words and managed to get the injured man up to the road without jostling him too much and then Chuck and Andy went down again for his bike. Luckily, before the inquisition from the others could start, the ambulance arrived. A discussion then took place after which Devon, Jeff and Andy elected to go to the hospital with Mike, and Nicole offered to drive Chuck and the bikes to their hotel. The others helped to load the damaged and undamaged bikes into the back of the van before heading off, promising to call when there was news, and thanking Chuck and Nicole copiously.
The two looked at each other. "Why don't you come back to the farmhouse for lunch before we head back to the hotel?" Nicole offered.
Chuck grinned. "That could work." They got back in the truck and drove back to Nicole's house at a not substantially slower speed.
Arriving, Nicole parked the van in the garage and Chuck grabbed his saddle bag, before following her into the house. Pulling a little black box from his saddle bag, he switched it on and ran it over himself, before shutting off his cellphone and pushing it into his saddle bag and leaving everything near the front door.
Then he crossed the hall to the kitchen, finding Nicole waiting for him.
"Clear," he confirmed.
"Oh, thank God," she exclaimed, closing the distance between them, and pulling him into a tight hug. All trace of the French accent was gone. "I've missed you so much Chuck!"
"I've missed you too, Sarah," he exclaimed, savouring the feel of holding the woman he loved in his arms before his lips found hers. "So much."
A/N Surprise! So, this is a bit of a departure from my normal style, but I thought it was time for a change. Hopefully my old readers will still enjoy it as I fill in some blanks over the next few chapters.