Critical Hellfire

By Steampunk . Chuckster

Summary: Chuck and Morgan are co-hosts of a locally popular streaming channel in which they discuss all things metal while playing video games. Their lives are uprooted when their demo guy hands them THE demo of the ages—a band called Critical Hellfire, fronted by singer and bassist Sarah Walker. AU Charah.

A/N: Heaps and heaps and heaps of unending joy incoming! Look out!

Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK or any of its characters. I don't own any of the songs mentioned in this chapter, this fic, or anywhere else for that matter. I am making absolutely zero dollars writing and posting this.

Sarah finished her braid, tying it, and moved to stand in front of her full-length mirror in the corner to the left of her bed. It sounded like they were going to eat food and do some exploring, which seemed like a casual sort of date.

High-waisted pale blue ripped jeans that clung to her long legs, ankle-height black boots, and a navy blue t-shirt commemorating Blondie's first Whiskey a Go Go gig in 1977 ought to do the trick, she decided. Snagging her black leather jacket, she grabbed a small purse with a long strap that matched the jacket, shoved her necessities into it, and checked the clock on her microwave as she surged past the kitchen and stopped at the outer door of her loft.

She heard a car pull up outside and she leaned to her right, looking through the window and down into the street below.

There he was, right on time. It was eleven-fifty-nine.

Not bad.

He clambered out from behind the steering wheel, standing at his full height. And he was tall. She smirked to herself. Not her type. Ha. Little did they know, she loved a tall man. They tended to have less self-esteem issues about the whole height thing when she went out with them, considering she only missed six feet by two inches.

And men with an inferiority complex about something like height liked to do things to embarrass her in public to try to knock her down a peg or two, make themselves feel bigger. It had happened enough for her to be wary ever since she hit her growth spurt.

Good, he'd dressed pretty casual too. He was in a nice button-up over a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

Sarah felt like she was almost spying on him then.

He obviously had no idea she could see him, otherwise he probably wouldn't have checked his watch, stooping over the car with his forehead against the metal edge of the roof.

He was prepping himself, maybe giving himself a pep talk. She thought maybe his lips were moving.

It was ridiculously sweet.

He finally straightened again and shook his arms out, hopping a few times like an athlete before the starting whistle, stepping around the hood of the car, jumping up onto the curb, and disappearing from view as he approached her home.

Sarah pulled back from the window, distantly aware of the fact that her bandmates weren't entirely wrong when they insisted the Games N Rock Session co-host was not her usual type. It wasn't a purposeful decision she'd made, dating the same types of men. Those were just the sort of guys in the circles she ran in. Guys who built, sold, and played guitars. Guys who worked in and around rock venues. Who played in and around rock venues. Who wore a lot of sleeveless shirts and therefore did a lot of bench pressing so their arms looked good.

It wasn't like she'd left a trail of Eddie Van Halen wannabes behind her as she'd moved through life.

They were all different, they looked different, had different outlooks on life, lived different, treated her different. And somehow, in other ways, they were all sort of…the same. Guys she played around with, slept with, moved on from. Or escaped from, depending on the guy.

She shook herself, hearing the sound of sneakers against the metal steps of the staircase outside of her loft.

She really didn't want those ill-fated exes in her brain while going out on a date with someone new.

That wasn't how she wanted to start this day.

He knocked and she waited a few seconds, prepping herself a little like he'd done out by his car, and then she went to the door, unlocked it, and tugged it open.

That big grin of his made the icky thoughts flutter off like a breeze had picked them up and whisked them far away. "Hi. Good…" He peeked at his watch. "Afternoon!"

Cute.

"Punctual," she flirted. "I like that."

She caught him casually trying to sneak a glance over her shoulder, probably wanting to know what her loft looked like, but she wasn't quite ready for that yet, so she stepped out onto the landing with him and shut the door behind her, locking it. "All ready if you are."

"Yes! Totally. Let's boogie." He offered her his arm and she forgot herself a little with how charming and dopey it was, wrapping her hands around his arm and moving to the stairs with him, grinning.

But then they made their way onto the first step and paused together.

The staircase was narrow, too narrow for them to descend side by side.

She laughed as he gestured for her to take the stairs first. "Thank you," she chirped, letting go of his arm and gliding down.

"You look really nice," he said from behind her.

Sending him a smile over her shoulder, she said another, "Thank you", adding, "But I looked way nicer last night."

"Oh. No way, you—" They both reached the bottom of the staircase, stepping onto the sidewalk, and he froze at the raised eyebrows she sent him. "Wait. Not that you didn't look nice last night. You looked incredible. You look incredible now too, that's all I meant."

"I got what you meant. And I appreciate it. This yours?" she asked, gesturing to the car she knew was his because he'd pulled up in it.

"It is. Yep. I know it isn't much but, uh…" He rushed ahead of her and popped open the passenger door.

She sent him a look, pausing at the door, one foot inside. "It's functional enough to have gotten you here and it has doors that open and close properly. That's a win in my book."

He chuckled and nodded, and she swung into the passenger seat, moving her legs so that he could shut the door for her. And then he trotted around the front, opening his door and climbing in. She subtly watched him fold up his long legs, tucking them under the wheel, readjusting himself in the seat and shutting his door.

"So have you been in a lot of cars with doors that don't work?" he asked.

Here she went again… the exes thing. She couldn't escape them.

"My ex refused to get rid of his Pontiac from the mid-'eighties. He kept working on it and working on it and working on it because he thought he could keep it going forever. And the doors were busted. If we went somewhere in it, he'd have to shove on his door super hard to get out, and then he'd have to come around and yank on the door on my side super hard to open that one because it didn't open from the inside anymore." She rolled her eyes. "So please don't diss your car. You are taking me out in something that functions properly and doesn't smell like burnt shit."

He cracked up. "Okay, well thanks for making me feel better about the chipped paint. I'll probably upgrade once better paychecks start coming in."

"Heeey, there you go." She nudged his shoulder with her fist. "So." She faced forward as he turned on the car. "Where we going?"

"Oh!" He clapped his hands together and then lifted his backside off of the seat with a grunt so that he could tuck his fingers in the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and unfolded it, smoothing it out ineffectively against the steering wheel. He must've pressed too hard though because his horn made a little Meep sound, causing them both to jump. Sarah laughed as he gave her a sheepish look with a quiet, "Oops", and then he passed over the paper. "There."

Sarah took it and looked at it. It was a list.

A checklist, in fact.

And while she thought she knew what this was, she arched an eyebrow and turned her gaze to Chuck, questioning.

"So I heard you last night when you said you don't like surprises. And I made a checklist so no matter what we do or where we go today, you won't be surprised."

Sarah was speechless. So many things occurred to her at once as she looked down at the list.

The first was that he listened to her when she spoke and respected her enough to actually pay attention, understand, have it sink in…and remember the next day.

And then he took her seriously. He didn't do whatever he wanted, assuming he knew better than she did, and set up a bunch of surprises anyway.

Then he sat down, in spite of probably being almost as tired as she was this morning, and he put together a list of potential places to eat, potential places to go visit, things to do and see. Including a trip to the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach and why was that specifically the cutest fucking thing she'd ever seen? An aquarium?

He'd typed it all out, he'd printed it, and he'd drawn a little shark next to the aquarium, a little tree next to the park, a wave next to the ocean view lookout point, an umbrella next to Venice Beach, et cetera.

Sarah took a deep breath.

"Is a checklist too overwhelming? I didn't even think about that."

"No, no." She shook her head, finally looking up at him. "It isn't overwhelming." And yet, she was overwhelmed. Not by the checklist, but by him. "This is very thoughtful, Chuck. Thank you."

"You're welc—"

She didn't let him finish. She dropped the checklist in her lap, leaned over the center console, and cupped the left side of his face, forcing him to tilt towards her, pressing her lips to his. All in one fluid movement. The end of what he was trying to say was muffled in her mouth.

She felt his hand under her elbow, gentle. And his lips finally responded, also gentle.

A buzz of excitement went through her when he squeezed her elbow, tilting his head to try another angle. And when they finally broke for air, she pulled her lips back between her teeth, taking a subtle but deep breath, slowly sliding back against her seat.

She collected herself faster than he did, as he still had his lips a little pursed, eyes half-lidded. He stayed right where she left him, his left hand that had been on her elbow hovering awkwardly between them.

She'd obviously caught him by surprise, but he'd responded pretty damn well, if she did say so herself.

He finally blinked a few times and moved back into his own seat, facing forward, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Sarah cleared her throat quietly. "Good. Now we got that out of the way."

Chuck stared at her for a long moment, and then his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. Then he seemed to sort of catch himself staring and he turned to face forward, nodding. "Tacos?" he squeaked. He cleared his throat. "Street tacos? That's one of the options."

His voice sounded funny and she knew why. How was he even real?

"Sounds good."

"Great. Great, I have a place… Dunno if you've been there." He pulled away from the curb, made a U-Turn, and they were on their way.

It took about seventeen seconds of quiet driving, Sarah completely in the dark about where his mind was as she secretly kept her gaze on his profile, before Chuck blurted, "So when you say 'we got that out of the way', that doesn't mean it isn't happening again, right?"

Sarah felt a melting sensation inside of her and she slid down a little in her seat, feeling a hard thud against her ribcage, her heart making itself known in her chest. She giggled. "You are too cute. No, that isn't what that meant."

In fact, she'd enjoyed it quite a lot, more than she'd been prepared for. There'd better be more of that, preferably not while he was driving them through the streets of LA however.

So she thrusted out a hand between them. "You got a pen?" She looked up at him with an innocent and expectant look in her eyes. "I'm supposed to mark this up, yeah?"

"Oh shoot. Yeah! A pen. Got it. No problem." He fished in various pockets, then stopped, thunking himself on the forehead with the heel of his palm. "I reverted back to when I still worked at the Buy More. I had a pocket protector and always had a pen, screwdriver, a bunch of other things. But, um… Here." He opened up the console compartment between them. "There should be pens in here."

He used to wear a pocket protector, huh? She somehow wasn't surprised. Maybe the people she'd gone around with all these years would find that an offense worth mocking—in fact, she was pretty sure they would. But she imagined it wouldn't be a bad idea to go around town with someone who was always prepared for a mini-crisis.

She dug in the compartment, finding a pen. "Hand sanitizer, huh? I like a man who practices proper hand sanitation."

That made him laugh and she preened a bit, shutting the compartment for him and wiggling the pen, before she went to the list.

And because he was making her feel a little bit heady, which in turn brought out her silliness—something she was usually much better at keeping hidden from people, especially the men she dated or really anyone outside of her bandmates—Sarah flattened the checklist against the dashboard and wrote "KISSING" in all caps off to the side of the list, drawing a square next to it like the ones beside the other items, and making a big checkmark in the square.

She flashed the list at him. "Did a bit of an edit. Just so you know I'm on the level. It's on the checklist and I checked it. It's set in stone now."

The adorable man squinted at the paper, saw what she'd added, and blushed magenta. He let out a nervous titter, grinning out at the road ahead so hard his nose wrinkled. "That is both very exciting and also a little nerve-wracking."

"Nerve-wracking?" She snorted. "Does kissing make you nervous?" She definitely hadn't felt that when she'd kissed him a minute ago.

"No," he said immediately, shaking his head vehemently. "But now that it's set in stone like that, there's some pressure. And pressure makes me nervous."

"Pressure makes diamonds," she chirped.

Chuck rocked forward with laughter, and she couldn't help chuckling quietly with him. "And you tried to say you aren't funny. Bull. Shit."

Sarah preened again, shrugging one shoulder cutely. And then she set her efforts to the incredibly sweet checklist, going down the line and checking everything she wanted to do.

}o{

Tacos since devoured, Chuck convinced Sarah to double back around as they walked through the park near the taco stand so that they could get churros too.

He'd finished his a lot faster than she'd finished hers.

Apparently to give him something to do while she polished off the rest of her churro, she went in her jeans pocket and produced the folded up checklist. She presented him with the checklist she was done marking with a bit of a flourish. "There you are. Our schedule for the day."

Chuck unfolded it with a happy little smile, but then it dimmed as he looked down at the checklist with a furrowed brow. "Everything has a check."

"Mm. Not true. I only checked off the tacos in the food section. Since we were already on our way to the tacos." She pursed her lips and tilted her body to the side a little, walking along the path next to him, the sunlight coming down through the branches and leaves of the trees that towered over them dappling beautiful patterns over her even more beautiful features. Then she took a big bite from her churro and shrugged, wrinkling her nose cutely, shoving the food into her cheek and saying around it, "But I did put a check next to all the other stuff."

"Mhm. I noticed. It's just that…there are, like, ten things on here. Spread out all over the greater LA area. And, you know…freeways. Traffic."

"Yeah, welcome to LA, right?"

He chuckled. He recognized she was playing a game with him, flirting, and he was liking it quite a bit. "I'm not sure we can fit all of this into one day, that's all I'm sayin'."

She shrugged. "Semantics. I mean, what is a day, really?"

"Twenty-four hours." She snorted at that. "So we probably should've gotten an earlier start maybe."

He loved the cheeky grin on her face, the way her tongue darted out to capture a bit of sugar on her top lip. "We can do our best, how 'bout that? Anything we can't hit today, we can save for another day."

She finished her churro, crunched up the wax paper, and tossed it in the nearby trash receptacle.

Chuck let what she said settle for a moment. And then he snuck in a bit closer to her, leaning in just slightly. "Does what you just said mean I've already earned myself another date with you?"

Sarah sent him a look that clearly read duh! And he felt a thrill shoot through his body. She reached out and tapped the list. "You had me at this checklist, you gem."

He knew the grin on his face was probably extremely corny, but he was so glad that had worked as well as it had. He had taken her seriously when she said she didn't like surprises. Well, okay then, he'd thought to himself this morning when he woke up and showered, getting dressed. He didn't need to surprise her. He'd use his sparkling personality. …hopefully.

And then he made a list so that she'd know ahead of time every single place he would be taking her to.

"And if that hadn't done it, the kiss would've," she tossed out, as if it was nothing, as if it wouldn't make his knees feel like they were made out of Jell-O.

His mouth opened and he made a very quiet croaking sound, searching for a response. Nothing else came out as he gaped at her.

"What, you don't have anything to say about that?" She practically had a halo over her head as she fluttered her eyelashes. She was cheeky, wasn't she? And God damn, he loved it.

"I…don't know what to say."

He felt like his only choice was to respond with honesty.

She smiled brightly at him, reaching over to tug at his sleeve teasingly. "You are the most candid person I think I've ever met."

"Sorry."

Sarah spun on him, furrowing her brow at him. "What, sorry! Don't apologize for that. At least not to me. I appreciate it."

"Oh. Good."

"It's new."

Chuck raised his eyebrows, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're probably right about that. People don't tend to just…say whatever shit pops into their head the way I do."

"I honestly think that's part of why so many people watch your Twitch channel as religiously as they do."

"We thought it might be kinda fun for folks to watch two twenty-somethin' guys blurt dumb crap without using a filter. While we verbally wreck each other over video games." He shrugged.

Sarah giggled. "It's not just meanness, though. You can feel something else there. You guys adore each other, and you build each other up. It's a very supportive atmosphere, and that's pretty heartwarming."

"Awwww." He chuckled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We've been best buds since we were, like, five. He's been there for me through all of the worst stuff. And vice versa. That's probably why, um…well…lemme just be candid again." She smiled expectantly. "When we both get, erm, genuinely heated over the video game stuff, lose our heads, no matter what we say or do, we both know it isn't actually that serious. We get over it. We go back to normal pretty quick."

"So that isn't acting, then. You guys actually get mad about the game…" She raised one eyebrow.

He winced. "I'm not perfect. But in my defense, he has this annoying thing he does where he gets a sniper's weapon and camps somewhere I can't see or find him, and when I'm in his sights, he goes BAM! and kills me. Camper behavior is so lame. I've told him a hundred times and he does it anyway, 'cause he's a little cheating butthole."

Chuck wondered if he'd been too candid. She was definitely judging him over this. Was she judging him enough that when they ended this date, she decided a second one wasn't necessary? Someone who got this sincerely riled up over video game nonsense probably was someone a girl like Sarah Walker would like to avoid, right?

"I'm not going to pretend I understand what any of that meant, or why you get so angry about it. Sorry. I'm not a gamer."

He shrugged. "That's totally fair."

"But I get so illogically pissed off when people call bands overrated just because they're popular. Like, sometimes they're popular for a reason. The snobby hipster bullshit gets under my skin in the worst way."

"Oh yeah, I know what you mean. Like when people shit on the Beatles or the Stones. Oooooo I'm so cooooool I'm trashing something a lot of people liiiike. Look how much better I am than allll of themmmmm," he mocked, making a face.

Sarah laughed, nodding. "Yeah, it's so obnoxious. Just let people live. Would I pick the Beatles over other stuff? Usually not honestly, but that's because I hear it so often everywhere, I feel like I'm kinda…good on them." She shrugged. "But I'm not gonna try to pretend they're garbage and overrated. They were geniuses."

He smiled at her. "I'm with you on all of that."

"Well, I was just…" She cleared her throat, crossing her arms at her chest, glancing out at the little pond they were walking around. "…I guess I was trying to make you feel less embarrassed about the trivial video game stuff that makes you actually angry. Since I'm like that with people's music snobbery. Zondra had to get me out of a room once because someone called Fleetwood Mac overrated."

Chuck stopped in his tracks. "What?!"

She stalled, turning to face him, twisting her lips to the side and raising her eyebrows. "Yep. Overrated."

"Fuck that. First of all, Stevie Nicks has one of the greatest voices of all time, male or female—"

"Preach!"

They started walking again, this time in the direction of his car.

"They did something so special, capturing this idea of individuality that no one had done before, that no one's done since. Because they were all such different people, but they came together with this synergy that became some of the most genius pieces of music ever created. They were actually magic. Like, sometimes I genuinely think Stevie Nicks is a literal witch and she uses her voice to cast a spell on us." He cleared his throat, sending Sarah a sheepish look. "Um, not really. For the record. I'm not actually…sure that witches are a thing."

"Of course they are," she said, lifting one eyebrow and smirking. "How do you think I got you to talk about my band on your channel?" He laughed, shaking his head, but she merely gave him a serious look. His laughter died. "Oh, you're serious. Well, this took a turn."

She cracked up, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. "I'm not actually a witch. If I was, ooooh the things I would do with that power."

"I'm both scared and very intrigued." And turned on, but he wasn't going to say that out loud.

She laughed again. "I love how you talk about music, and musicians. You have this way of opening your mouth and this super profound, beautiful stuff comes out. When it was directed at me—at Critical Hellfire—it sort of, um, took my breath away." She crossed her arms, a shy look sneaking onto her features. "That's some powerful shit you sell on that channel of yours." She nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, ducking his head, feeling a blush on his face.

"Critical Hellfire is special and I stand by all of the things I said."

They reached his car and she leaned against the passenger door rather than letting him open it for her so that she could get in. She faced him head on and tilted her chin up a little to look into his eyes. Speaking of things taking your breath away… How was it possible for one person to contain this much beauty?

"Hm… Do you think Morgan would say the same? That he stands by what he said on that stream?"

Chuck wasn't sure what her angle was here, but he decided to go along with her and see where it might lead. "Yeah. I think so."

"Even the part where he said you have a massive crush on Critical Hellfire's lead singer?"

Oh shit, he hadn't seen it coming and he should've.

'…see where it might lead.' I'm a God damn idiot.

He was the worst at the whole self-preservation thing.

"Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

Chuck knew he had to look like a tomato. He felt the heat rising from his collar and he gave it a little tug, an attempt at granting himself some relief.

She giggled. "It's very cute when you squirm like that." Then she twisted up her face sheepishly and pushed to her full height, taking his arm. "Sorry. That was kinda patronizing. I take it back."

That last part surprised him and he found himself smiling at her.

"Um, no. Nonono. Don't take back calling me cute. As long as you don't mean it in a way that's like…a cute toddler or a cute puppy, I'll take getting called cute by someone like you any day." He chuckled with what he hoped was an adorable shrug.

Sarah gave him a long look, smirking a bit. And then she swept her gaze down to his feet and slid it back up to his eyes again. "I definitely don't mean it in the toddler slash puppy way."

Chuck swallowed crooked, masking it with a slight cough into his fist. "Oh good," he rasped.

She shifted to the side so that he could open the door for her, and he outstretched his hand for her to take it and use it to swing herself into the seat. He couldn't help giving her hand a little squeeze before he leaned down, waiting for her to look up at him.

And with the confidence of a fucking giant, he chirped, "And yeah, to answer your question, I've got a big ol' massive crush."

Her blue eyes went wide and he shut the door, walking around to his side of the car, wordlessly climbing in behind the wheel and starting the car.

A/N: Good. Now we got that out of the way...

Hehe.

Please review if you are able! Thanks for reading!

-SC