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: The date continues! Thanks for the reviews, pals.

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.

As he licked his ice cream, he was careful to keep his gaze pointed out at the Pacific Ocean, past the large cruise ship museum, past the docks where whale watching boats awaited. The silence was comfortable. He knew he had a propensity to interrupt silences, whether they were comfortable or not. And if he looked at her incredible profile, he'd be more apt to blurt something.

So he kept just watching the water glitter in the afternoon sun.

Until he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Technically this isn't on the checklist, so I apologize for the slight detour," he said, lifting his own cone up in front of him, studying the delicious concoction, before pulling it back and biting a chunk out of it, pulling that in between his lips and humming happily, even as it made his teeth ache from the cold.

"Never apologize for ice cream," she said with an immediacy that was chock-full of gravity, as if it was offensive he'd even dared.

It made him laugh.

"Okay, that's fair. I won't do it again."

She giggled. "It's very sweet that you heard me when I said I don't like surprises, Chuck. And that list was even sweeter. But not liking surprises isn't exactly the same as minding if detours happen during a date. I'm not opposed to eating ice cream spur of the moment. I will never be opposed to that, no matter the circumstances."

Chuck smiled at her, watching as she licked her own ice cream cone. Rocky road. He'd taken note of that, too.

They walked side by side along the harbor of Long Beach.

"Okay, moment of truth." She stepped in front of him, facing him, and he was forced to stop. "How the hell'd you get us backstage passes to the aquarium like that? It's been a half hour since we walked out of that magical place and I've stopped myself from asking this whole time, but I can't keep quiet anymore. I can't hold it in. I need to know."

Chuck winced. He was hoping he could get away with not telling her.

"Was it that bad? What, did you tell them they could feed your first born child to the sharks?"

He cracked up, rocking forward. "Holy shit, that was very specifically macabre."

"You'll never believe me, but Very Specifically Macabre was our band's first name before we actually settled on Critical Hellfire." She nonchalantly stuck her tongue out and swiped it over the ice cream, picking out a marshmallow and sucking it between her lips, munching it, unblinking.

He laughed again, shaking his head. "You're joking but I'd be into that."

She smiled, licking her lips and going back to her ice cream, sending him an expectant look.

"I kidnapped one of the flounders out of their tank and said, 'Nyehhh, if you evah wanna see yah floundah again, gimme d'ose backstage tour tickets, seeeeee?' Just like that."

Sarah cracked up. "You're scarily good at sounding like an old-timey gangster. Should I read into that?"

"Yes, in my past life—"

"Oh, shut up," she laughed, pushing his shoulder. He gave her a toothy grin and licked his ice cream. "Seriously, though, Chuck. The actual exhibits are incredible on their own, but to get to experience feeding sea otters? Getting to talk to sea lions? You dancing with one? Getting to look down into the giant tank with the sharks? Learning all of that stuff about these cool creatures and what the aquarium does to protect them and their habitats? It was above and beyond amazing. And I know you did it for me. I just wanna know how. That's all." She tilted her head adorably, her blue eyes big and shimmery as she looked up at him through her long eyelashes.

"Wow. That's…really effective."

"What?" she asked in faux innocence, eating more Rocky Road.

"Mhm… I see right through you. And still, it's so effective." He groaned. "Fine, but I don't want you to make a big deal out of it. Erm…" He pulled his lips between his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "My, uh, wallet might be…emptier than it was before we walked through those doors into the aquarium."

She gaped at him. "You paid them off?"

"Paid them o—? Excuse me!" he laughed, cutting himself off. "You make me sound like a politician doing a dirty thing." She cracked up. "I did not pay them off, thank you very much. I paid what I had to pay to get a special…backstage pass as you called it," he said with a chuckle. "And no, I'm not telling you how much. I happened to come into a bit of money recently. Turns out something came up that I could spend some of it on. And it was…very worth it." He gave her a dreamy smile as he licked his Kona coffee ice cream.

Sarah reached out to squeeze his arm, stepping in closer to him. "Thank you. You really shouldn't have spent such a big chunk of your advance for upgrading your Twitch channel on this. On me."

"Did you have fun?"

"Are you kiddin' me? I can't remember feeling the way I felt when that little paw touched my fingers for that split second. Ever. Not about anything."

He melted. And related. All at once.

"Then it was worth the chunk of money. Anyway, I know what you mean. Don't forget, I experienced all of that, too. I've never done one of those tours before either. So you weren't the only one who reaped the benefits today, okay? Don't give me my crown just yet."

"Hmmmm… you're right. Crown retracted. Gimme that." She pretended to swipe a crown off of his curls, and he let out a bubbly giggle.

"Wow, you actually did it. You took my crown."

"And you let me." She leaned in close, smirking with her eyes narrowed. "It's 'cause I'm pretty, isn't it? All great crowns fall because of a pretty woman." She rolled her eyes then to let him know what she thought of that ridiculously skewed historical trope.

Chuck snorted. "It's a combination of the fact that you're gorgeous and that you can really wail into a mic. Also doesn't hurt that you have this way of, like…caressing your bass guitar that's, erm, concerning levels of…" He thought twice then. "Ya know? I'm not gonna finish that."

"Oh, please do," she said gleefully.

"Nope."

"Do it."

Oh, fuck it.

"Sexy. There. Concerning levels of sexy. And now you can cast me into the harbor and call me a heel." He did the cowering pose that Morgan had always done in middle school when the bullies went after him. He went full roly-poly, curling into a ball and hoping that made the kicking and punching not feel so bad.

That was Morgan's go-to, but Chuck was a runner. He saw them coming for him, he sprinted, and he hid. And then he hit his growth spurt in sophomore year and everything changed. No running, no hiding. And no cowering pose for Morgan, either. Most of the time at least.

"Weird how it doesn't feel gross when you say it," her voice cut in, a certain amount of awe in it.

Chuck peeked at her and straightened to his full height, finally biting into his cone once he'd demolished the two scoops of coffee ice cream on top.

"It usually feels gross?" he asked. She sent him a droll look and he wrinkled his nose. "I guess I don't ever get called sexy so I don't know how it feels. If anyone ever sincerely tossed that descriptive word my way, I'd probably faint from shock."

"Yeah, but that one word you just used right there. You said 'sincerely', Chuck." She bit into her own cone, munching thoughtfully, not looking at him. The breeze picked up the tendrils of hair that escaped her braid, swishing it over her face and she fixed it, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers tingled, almost as if they were aching to feel her hair against him, begging him to reach up and move her hair behind her ear for her. "I've noticed it's rarely sincere. They probably wanna get into my pants, and they think using a word like that is gonna help them out with their goal. …But it isn't."

"I retract my use of the word 'sexy', please." He said that without thinking. Oh God, he needed to clean this up as she watched him closely. He felt himself blushing. "Wait, but not because I want to get into your pants—anyb-anybody's pants. I don't want you to think I want to get into…pants. Except for…my own pants. See, this right here is why I get into trouble. I cannot keep my mouth shut and—"

She shut it for him.

By cupping his face in her free hand, stepping in close, and smashing her lips into his.

It was a quick kiss this time, but she did this thing with her fingers playing in the curls just above his temple, and stuff that had been dormant inside of him since…probably forever erupted to life.

He blinked his eyes open when she broke the kiss, and she was looking right at him. She smiled a little. And after about thirty seconds, she mumbled, "What, nothing to say?"

"I'm keeping my mouth shut," he whispered. Her laughter made the sun shine brighter, beating on his back, and he smiled at her, bringing the cone around to take a happy bite of it. "Mmm."

"So you think the way I play my bass is sexy, huh?" She finished her cone, chewing it with an innocent look as she wrinkled up the wrapper and napkin in her fist.

Chuck felt his features collapse in misery. "Oh no, no. Nope. Don't you dare put me on the spot like that."

The singer let out a nasally giggle, nodding once. "You're right. Sorry. That's cruel. I retract my question, just like you retracted your use of the word 'sexy'. There. Even?"

"Even." He grinned. "What d'ya say we get back in the car and tick something else off the list?"

"Yes."

"You good? Don't need to get home for anything?"

"I'm all yours."

Chuck shivered and tried to play it off by finishing the ice cream cone, wrinkling up his own trash and snagging hers out of her hand, tossing both in the trashcan they strolled past. "Okay, we're going with a view angle now."

"A view angle?"

"Yeah, I think I'd like to take you to a view. Particularly of the ocean category."

She snorted and he felt her following him back up the path towards the parking structure where they'd left his car a few hours earlier. He loved how she twisted her fingers in the back of his shirt as if holding onto him in some fashion as they went up the steps. "Why are you talking like an alien from outer space trying to fit in with humans?"

Chuck cracked up, pausing so that she could step up next to him as they entered the structure, and he let himself do what felt naturally, reaching up to round her shoulders with his arm and pull her against his side in a hug.

She grinned at him, holding onto his shirt in both hands, one at his back and one at his abdomen.

It felt kind of possessive.

He liked that a lot.

}o{

Sarah found herself giving Chuck a side-eye as he got a particularly mischievous grin on his face, his phone in his hand, scrolling through music, she thought. "You know it isn't safe to do that when you're driving."

"Oh, I'm a very safe driver. I'm very skilled at finding music on here without taking my eyes off the road."

"I literally just saw you look down."

"Well, I need to find the right song." She scoffed, snatching the phone from him. "Hey!"

"What do you want me to put on? You focus on the freeway in front of you."

He winced. "Okay fine, fine. Ahem… 'I Rule the Ruins' by Warlock." She gaped at him a little, slowly turning to eye him. "I just discovered them recently, actually. Ahem. And, uh, I think she kind of sounds like you. Or you sound like her. I guess. Sometimes, not all the time."

She put it on and smiled, sticking his phone in the cupholder where he'd had it before he dangerously started looking at it while he drove. "Recently, huh? How recently?"

"Yesterday." He squirmed as she gave him a long, silent look. "Okay, full disclosure. I'm a guy."

"I guessed that." He glared a little and she winced, breathing, "Sorry."

"I've had guy blinders about rock, but specifically metal. Which means I, um…"

"Only knew about and listened to man bands?"

"Yeah. I'm not proud of it but it just didn't occur to me to expand outside of my own sex. My gender bubble. Besides, like, the obvious. Heart. I mean, come on. They transcend stupid biases." Sarah nodded emphatically, still watching him closely. Because he was actually admitting a shortcoming out loud and she wasn't sure what to do with that, it was so…new. For people, let alone for men. "And then, um, I got handed a demo this local band recorded…"

"Did they…wail?" she asked, giggling as she used the word he seemed to use himself quite often.

He got a cute little blush on his cheeks. "Yeah. Maybe. And the lead singer was a woman. And then I saw a live performance and it really inspired me after that. Went home, pulled up the ol' Google. And I did this deep dive on my own. I discovered Warlock, I discovered Fanny…"

Sarah froze, her jaw dropping. And she reached out to grab his bicep. "Did you just say Fanny?"

"The industry absolutely fucked up with them, like what a badass group of rockers. But they were women so….pffft. Men ahead of their time become rock icons and change the game. Women ahead of their time get shuffled to the side." He made an annoyed sound. "I don't understand how in the hell someone as deep into the rock world as I've been—simply as a fan, of course—how I didn't know about Fanny. What a fucking travesty. I feel like such a poser," he groused. "But all I can do is apologize to the rock gods for my willful blindness." Chuck pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically. "I am so sorry, rock gods, for my…willful blindness."

She felt herself sink a bit deeper into her seat, just peering at him with a soft smile. Hearing Critical Hellfire's demo and watching them perform live had made this man see that there were holes in his music listening habits. And he'd decided to fill those holes immediately. She wasn't sure how to even address how impressive that was.

"Know what?" she prompted quietly.

"What? Are you going to tear me to pieces for being a sexist metal listener?" He winced.

"Nope. It would've been impressive if you just…knew about Fanny and Warlock without prompting, sure. It's somehow more impressive that you realized you'd been missing out and sought to rectify that. Like, acknowledging that you have biases and trying to do away with 'em. That's super impressive. That's the kind of hero shit they should put in those comic books you read." She reached out and poked the outside of his elbow flirtatiously.

"Okay, now I know you're giving me too much credit. I went through twenty-six years of my life, 'til just a few days ago, without fixing this problem. Shameful."

"It's not easy to admit you've been wrong, misled, prejudiced, even if it wasn't on purpose. So I am gonna give you credit. You can't stop me." She poked his bicep this time.

He grinned, shrugging shyly, and then he reached out and slowly turned Warlock up. "D'you know this one?"

"Yeah. Of course. It's Warlock. Doro was one of the first voices I heard that transcended sound. And Ann Wilson. Jean and June Millington." He seemed confused at the last two names and she silently reminded herself that he wasn't perfect and didn't need to be. "Fanny," she said. "They both sang and played lead guitar and bass."

"Oh! Oh yeah! I forgot their names. Sorry."

"It's okay," she chirped genuinely, squeezing his arm. "You're still learning."

She loved that he took that in such good humor, grinning in amusement as she winked at him.

"So if you, uh, know this song… Maybe you should sing along to it." He turned to bounce his eyebrows adorably at her. "Ehhhhhh? Sarah Walker slash Doro concert in my Nerd Herder?"

Sarah pulled her chin back, arching an eyebrow. "Excuse me? You think I'm just gonna sing a Warlock song at your demand? I'm not." She teasingly stuck out a hand. "Entrance fee is ten bucks, buster."

Chuck laughed. "You know what? That's perfectly fair." He then grabbed the wheel in just his left hand, digging into his pocket.

"Wait, no. Not while you're driving. I'm just kidding!"

"No free concerts for me. You're right." He got his wallet in his hand and slapped it into Sarah's palm. "Take whatever's in that wallet. It's yours. Please sing some Doro? Nobody will even know besides me. C'monnnnn…"

Oh boy, those brown puppy dog eyes. He was ruthless with them.

"I'm not taking—Oh shit, you just walk around with this much cash in your wallet?" She opened it and peered into it. She saw something else in there, like a card or something, and she fished it out, looking at it. "What's Magic the Gathering? And what's this thing?"

"Oh." He swallowed hard. "It's a card game. Kind of like, um, roleplaying. That one's Earthbind. I've been trying to get it back from Morgan for like a decade and he finally gave it back, the punk. I just haven't stuck it back in with my collection yet."

"Is this another extremely nerdy thing?"

"Yes. Yes, it is."

She laughed. "Looks like it would go with this band."

"Big time. I wish I'd known about Warlock while I was deep in my Magic the Gathering days."

Sarah quietly put everything back in his wallet, spying a picture of Chuck with a woman with brown hair, their arms around each other as they grinned at the camera, laughing. She decided not to ask who it was, whether it was an ex or what, and she wondered if he typically kept pictures of himself with exes in his wallet.

She didn't want him to think she was snooping.

And it wasn't her business. She stuck his wallet in the cupholder with his phone, pointedly not taking any of his money because she'd clearly just been joking around. But he pouted a little over it.

Sarah grabbed his phone and found "Dark Fade", one of her favorites, putting it on. She waited as Doro's voice swung in, and when the second refrain started, she did her best Doro impersonation, doing that yell growl, making Chuck jump, spinning to hit her with his brown eyes that were as wide as saucers.

He guided the car off of the freeway and began head banging, thankfully not so violently that he wasn't keeping his gaze on the road.

The unbridled glee in his face was worth the slight embarrassment from the crack in her voice as she tried to hit one of the higher screaming notes. He didn't seem to give a fuck that her voice cracked. He was having the time of his life.

She stopped before the song was over and shook her head. "Okay that's it, I'm gonna kill my voice and I need it."

"WOOOO HOOO HOOOOOO! YEEEEAAAAAH! OW OWWWWW!" He rolled down his window and laughed. "That was fucking awesome."

She could only laugh with him, blushing, shaking her head, rolling her own window down as he took her along the road to what looked like a dirt-covered parking area up against the cliff that overlooked the Pacific in all of its mid-afternoon beauty.

He turned down the music as he parked, stopping it altogether. "We can check this off the list now." He poked the list still propped on the center console. "Ocean cliff view. Right there."

Giggling, she crossed it off. "I'm getting out, though. You comin'?"

"Uh, hell yeah."

They got out and walked around to the front of the car, stepping up onto the curb, not stopping 'til they were pressed against the wooden railing. She watched as the wind whipped at his loose curls and she felt herself sort of swept up by the view—Chuck Bartowski against the backdrop of the ocean sprawling out towards the horizon.

"Hey, um…thank you again for what you did at the aquarium. Buying us an extra special tour like that. It was sweet, even if you also reaped the benefits."

Chuck shrugged, turning to smile at her. "You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I more than enjoyed it. That's gonna stick with me forever."

"Same." God, the grin on his face was something else.

She turned to lean her hip against the railing then and crossed her arms, looking up at him as he stayed facing forward, hands braced on the top rail. "And thanks for luring a big time producer to that show we did in my warehouse, too. He seems like he might be the real deal. Our guy who does the booking for us, he's…Well, he's dropping the ball a little so we decided to go around him. Dylan reached out to the producer and he actually answered the phone and talked about deets. Dylan texted me an hour ago. I-I didn't say anything then because it felt kind of rude, you know? We're on this date and all. But…I dunno, this could actually lead to the break we've been working for."

He turned his head towards her, eyebrows lifting, and a slow smile crossed his face, sincerely pleased. "No way. That's great! Is he interested in signing you guys to a label or something? He seems like he'd know a big-time music producer or head of a label or something. All fuckin' suave 'n shit."

Chuck seemed a bit more taken in with the appearance of the man than she'd been. Barker had stuck out like a sore thumb at her warehouse the night before and not in a great way. It felt very surface-level, all for show.

"Hmm. Maybe he does. But for now, he has an owner of a big-time product wanting our band to play for an commercial or something. You know those commercials that play before the trailers when you go to the movies? If you're early enough? Stuff like that. It'll be on Youtube and stuff too according to Dylan."

"Heeey! That's awesome! That'll get eyes on you! The second people hear and see you guys, it's over. You're headed for supreme stardom," he said in that quintessential movie trailer voice, swiping his hand through the air and narrowing his eyes.

She giggled. "It's actually really cute you have so much faith in us."

"Um, you've got some serious power. Critical Hellfire is a group of deeply talented folks who can all destroy on your instruments and sing? And you harmonize? That's madness. It's hard to find that these days. Especially in this genre." He inched closer, leaning in. "Those covers you guys do…you can transport someone back to the 'eighties with your sound, while making it fresh, your own, original."

"Because our lead singer's a chick?" She poked herself in the chest with her thumb.

"Sure, but not just that. It's all of it. Critical Hellfire is true metal." He pursed his lips and pressed his fingers to them, pulling them back with a muah. "Beautiful."

"You know what? I could listen to you wax poetic about my band all day long."

"Good. 'Cause I could do it all day long."

"I believe that," she giggled, warmth in her chest. "But what about your whole deal with this Cash Barker guy?"

"I think it's Cole, but I dig Cash."

"Oh, right. Oops. That'll be a bad mistake to make when I see him again." She grit her teeth sheepishly.

Chuck snorted. But then something swept over his handsome features and he looked out at the sea again. "I, um, I dunno."

She tilted her head to the side to try to force his gaze back to hers. And when she got what she aimed for, his eyes swinging back to meet hers, she frowned. "What's that mean? Something happen? I thought you got that big contract…"

"No, no. I did. We did. It's signed and all that. I guess I'm worried is all," he admitted, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Why? This is a huge deal for you guys…"

Chuck huffed, his shoulders hunching forward, his chin pressed to his chest. "Big honesty here, you ready? I'm, um…not good at change." Sarah didn't respond, absorbing his admission. "Big changes like this make me nervous. Always have. It's why I got stuck at a dead end job throughout and after high school. At the Buy More, I mean, working the Nerd Herd desk, fixing people's phones. It was easy, paid enough, but there was nowhere else to move up to from there and that was…comforting." He shrugged. "I had to get pushed by my sister, and Morgan hopping on to do a Twitch show with me helped. We kind of built it up on the side while we both worked our Buy More jobs. That's how the show became a post-dinner, late-night thing, really. We worked closing shifts," he said with a chuckle. "That was the only time we could do GnR. But then people started subscribing and donating and we thought maybe if we devoted more time and energy to it, maybe we could afford to leave the Buy More altogether and make the Twitch channel our bread and butter."

"The rest was history?"

"Yeah, I guess so. It took a lot for me to leave the Buy More. I struggled hardcore. Because…"

"Change is scary."

"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck shyly. "So yeah, this whole thing is making me nervous. I'm not a big TAKE A LEAP kind of guy." He did spirit fingers, then gave her a wan look.

Sarah pursed her lips thoughtfully, and then pushed away from the railing and grabbed his hand, tugging him in even closer to the edge. "Stand here."

"What're we doing?"

"Just stay."

"Why?"

She went back to his car and slid into the driver's seat, grabbing his phone from where he left it in the drink holder and turning on the car, getting a song ready. She scrolled and found something she was sure would work. A classic.

Then she put it on and turned it up. She glanced around the parking lot. There were two other cars, parked further away. She didn't care about them, or their occupants. She climbed out of the car and walked back to him.

He was supremely confused. "Um…maybe the music is…a little loud? It's just…other people are, erm, over there and—"

"Forget about them," she said. "This is about you."

"Me?"

"Yep. It's about you and what you're about to do."

Chuck gave her an even more confused look. "What I'm…about to do? What, erm, what am I about to do?"

"You're going to take a leap, Chuck Bartowski."

He blanched, craning his neck to look over the railing and down the cliff face to the rocks below, the sea crashing into them. "WHAT?!"

Sarah cracked up, grabbing his arm and tugging him a bit away from the railing, moving both of her hands up to slap them on his shoulders securely. "No! Not literally, you freaking goof." She pointed back to the car. "Sing."

He gaped at her for a moment, then broke into laughter. "That's a good one. Sing. Ha! You got me." She merely stared at him seriously. His chuckle died down and he gestured at the car himself. "Wait, you're serious? Oh. Wow. No. Nope. I don't, uh, I don't do that."

"You didn't do that. Before you decided to take a leap, you didn't do that. You do it now, though. Sing." And then something he'd said to her earlier in the car came back to her and she grabbed his shirt, tugging the front of it so that he was forced in closer to her. "Nobody will even know besides me. C'monnnnn…"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Wowwww, using my own words against me. Evil. I'm not going to do this. It's crazy. I have a terrible voice, I don't…especially not in front of people, especially especially not you."

"I sing in front of you," she said with a shrug.

"You're a professional singer! In a radical band!"

Sarah merely shrugged at him again. She wasn't letting him bug out of this. She didn't care if the other two couples were eyeing them a bit funny from the other part of the lookout. She didn't care about them. She only cared to get this guy who feared change, who feared taking chances and taking a leap, to loosen up.

"I'll do something else to take a leap. How 'bout that?"

"Nope."

"Fuck," he breathed, obviously frustrated. "I'm so bad at singing. Please. You will run in the other direction," he said pitifully.

"I bet I won't."

"Oh my God. You're such a freaking—" With a growl, he stomped around her to the car, swinging in behind the wheel. The music stopped and she felt the awkwardness of the silence that followed.

The air between them had felt so flirtatious and teasing, and the tension had felt good. But maybe it had only been a good tension for her and he was actually annoyed that she kept pushing him so he merely turned off the music to get her to stop. And now she'd pushed him hard enough that the rest of this date, the drive back to her place, would be fraught with really awful awkward silence.

And then she could suddenly hear her latest ex-boyfriend's voice in her ear. A clipped, You always have to win, don't you? Always have to be right. You can't just let shit fuckin' go, Sarah.

But then music filled the air again. She recognized the guitar riffs and the lively drums immediately.

And Chuck swung back out from behind the wheel, disrupting her self-pity and doubt by closing the distance to where she stood near the hood now, pointing at her as if she was in trouble, and snapping, "But I'm picking the God damn song I'm singing."

Sarah erupted into laughter, but only on the inside. Somehow she had enough self-control to merely sit on the hood of the car, leaning back with her palms against the warm surface, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

Chuck leaned on the hood next to her and let out a, "Ooof! …Ohh yeeaaaah!", making her beam hard at him. "Ahhh huuuhhhhh!" His voice literally squeaked and she pressed her lips together hard to keep from laughing.

Because he began to sing the first verse, pumping his fist in front of him to keep the beat. He had the lyrics down to a tee, but God, he was so adorably flat. And she simply didn't care.

When he swung into the chorus, she joined in, banging her head. "Paaaanama! Paaaanamaaa-huh! Paaaanamaaa! Paaanama-huh ho huh ho huh!"

And as the song continued, he seemed to get more into it, the bashfulness drifting to the wayside, and he let himself just belt it, not worrying about if the tone was off. It was off. It didn't fucking matter.

The slower instrumental break of the song dropped in and he stood up in front of her, tugging her off of the hood to stand at her full height. And he began to do a terrible gyrating dance against her to the whining of the lead guitar over the low bass beat. She couldn't stop herself from bursting into laughter this time, but she grabbed his hips and moved with him, doing her best to stay with him. It didn't exactly work because his rhythm was a little off, and still, it was hot. It was ridiculous. It was hotly ridiculous.

As Eddie began speaking over the rev of an engine, Chuck pressed his forehead to hers and surprised her by admitting, "Yeah I don't know this part. Sorry."

She laughed, lifting her arms up to prop them on his shoulders, nuzzling his nose.

But then Chuck started again. "She's runnin'! I'm flyin'! …"

The chorus dropped again and Chuck started hopping up and down in front of her, yelling, "PAAANAMAAAA!" as loud as he could, again very off-key.

And when the song stopped abruptly, Chuck stopped jumping, staggering to the side a bit, panting.

Sarah opened her mouth to say something, anything, to congratulate him for taking a leap maybe? But she didn't get the chance. Because before he could even get his breath back, Chuck lunged for her, grabbed her by her face, and he kissed her.

No, he didn't just kiss her. As he moved one hand to grab her by her waist and yank her in tight, pinning the backs of her legs to the front grate of his car…Sarah heard a distant voice in her head telling her he was kissing the hell out of her.

She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back, the rest of the voices and thoughts completely flying out of her brain altogether. Leaving her with nothing but the heated truth: something was brewing here between them that was more than. More than what? Fuck, she didn't know.

It was just more than.

Maybe more than anything she'd ever felt with someone.

But that was too much.

And her brain wasn't capable of that in this particular moment, because she was too busy trying to keep up.

Almost as if he couldn't get enough of her, he let go of the back of her head and her waist and instead wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her in close by the small of her back. Her fingers moved of their own volition up from where her fist was twisted in the back of his shirt and buried themselves in his curls, feeling how silky soft they were.

Finally, the need for oxygen broke them apart, and she kept her nose pressed to his, their foreheads touching, still breathing the same oxygen.

Sarah sucked in a deep breath and her breasts pushed into his chest. God, she felt the tips of each of his fingers through the clothes she wore, and the way they practically singed her sensitive skin.

She blinked her eyes open, pulling her face back a mere inch or two, and he finally opened his own golden brown eyes to meet her gaze. This was one of those Trademark type Moments people always put in movies, TV shows, books, whatever else. Wasn't it? Two people kissing, sparks flying—no, not sparks, full blown electric currents. Like being struck by lightning, as cliché as she knew it was to think that.

They merely stared.

And stared some more, the breeze picking up their hair and clothes, rustling them. She refused to let go, though. He'd have to be the one who did that, because he'd initiated this damn thing. And now he'd have to let go.

Just…not yet, she silently begged. Don't let go yet.

A/N: Next chapter's a real doozy. I'll post it soon! Please review if you're able to. Thanks for reading!

-SC