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: Everybody breathing normally again? Good.
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.
What Sarah hadn't realized was the last few days had taken a toll on her mental health, on her energy, on a great many things she'd just dismissed outright because her eye had been on the wrong ball. She'd repeated over and over to herself that it was for the band, and the band took precedence. And not being able to sleep at night was a normal thing, right?
Literally not sleeping at all? Ever? Less normal. Being wrung-out, drawn, constantly exhausted? Also probably not normal.
Still, she'd persisted because Cole Barker was giving them a gift.
Wrong ball.
God, she'd really convinced herself it was the right one, and maybe she'd even the rest of her band. She'd had them all thinking that it would get them somewhere. But there had to be a place deep inside of her that knew a music video ad that made it onto a commercial break for some CBS show only the extremely old Boomers watched, people with no inkling of what metal was and why they should even care about this random band with the terrible clothes dancing on Joshua Tree rocks in heels…and what was the snake about anyway?
Well, that wasn't going to get them shit, was it?
The desperation for something had made it so that she settled for meaningless scraps that not only would get Critical Hellfire nowhere, but the man feeding them the scraps was only doing it to have sex with her.
She'd seen Barker's interest in her, she wasn't stupid, but contrary to Chuck's insinuations that morning, she'd done her best to avoid encouraging him in that way, making sure she wasn't alone with him in a one-on-one situation, inviting Dylan, Mac, Zondra, or all three of them when he talked about drinks, coffee, dinner. If there was a meeting request, she'd force the rest of the band to join her.
But had she thought he was only pursuing this opportunity for Critical Hellfire to convince her to have sex with him?
That wasn't something she'd actively considered, and it had torn into her in the worst way when Chuck brought it up. Clearly, he was just jealous, she'd thought. Lashing out in jealousy.
And then the extra time they spent on her in the trailer, the extra makeup, the uncomfortable white leather, short skirt, the way he kept insisting on the camera focus being on her. The snake, dancing with the snake.
Could she find and burn that footage later? Barf.
And then Chuck tore off in his car after a genuinely passionate plea to abandon the trash video shoot and Cole Barker opened his stupid mouth to invite her to dinner, "just the two of us", and insisted he'd make her forget all about her boyfriend.
Barf again.
She was still so deeply disgusted. To know they'd stepped over Games N Rock Sessions' dead body to take this opportunity from a man like that—as much as he'd covered the worst of his intentions and his nature with a skillful facade—made her sin feel all the worse.
She had been weighed down for days, and she wondered if Dylan, Zondra, and Mac had been weighed down, too. She knew they were feeling guilty about working with CB Productions after what they'd done to Games N Rock Sessions. Had they struggled to sleep? They hadn't gotten into a fight with their significant others the way she had though. Maybe that added to the lack of rest.
The moment she found herself locked away in a place where she felt safe and comfortable, she'd knocked out like someone had spiked her drink.
They cleared a bit more of the air in the car, after she made sure that Chuck and Morgan weren't in a fight anymore. That had been her first priority because she'd been concerned about that. It felt…impossible that those two could be at odds for any reason that didn't have to do with silly video game stuff.
She didn't push for him to give her more information about what he and Morgan set up because she wanted the whole band to find out together.
And she admittedly swooned when he told her that he'd missed her like crazy, looking at her with those melty amber eyes of his. …God, the way she'd missed him so deeply even with how mad she was at him, even with how much she was hurting. It had felt so unfair, missing him that hard.
But once the important stuff was through with, it was like someone had flicked a switch and turned out the light of her energy. She fell into a deep sleep for over an hour and a half of the drive home.
And as she finally woke up again, she realized that Chuck hadn't let go of her hand for a moment as she slept, clinging to it as he drove them home with his free hand.
He glanced away from the road for a moment and noticed she'd come to. "Oh. Hi, there."
She felt him squeeze her hand and she smiled, slowly scooting up to sit properly in the seat again. "My hair must be a mess," she teased, making him laugh. They both knew it'd started out as a mess in the first place thanks to those hairstylists.
Sarah knew she was blushing a little bit, though. Something about being in a fight and making up made this relationship feel all sorts of brand new again, and holding his hand while she slept felt… She didn't know how it felt, but shyness was taking the reins at the moment.
It was clear to her that there was a gravity to this thing between them that she'd never experienced before. Tiny things that had never existed with anyone else. Little moments that felt new, that felt intense.
"Sorry I fell asleep in the middle of us…um, still talking through things."
"Don't apologize. Please. It isn't like you fell asleep in the middle of one of my sentences. Even if you had, it's okay. I'm sure being out in that desert wind with the fans they had blasting at you was rough, and holding that super heavy python had to wear you out, too."
He didn't know the half of what had worn her out, but she wasn't secure enough to tell him he'd been a huge part of it. She'd already grilled him enough, she'd been plenty vulnerable with him, and he was properly and genuinely guilt-ridden about the things he'd said and how he'd said them.
Weirdly enough, the biggest reason she was able to forgive him, even deep inside of herself where his words cut the worst, was that this was a reminder he wasn't the perfect specimen she'd allowed herself to think he was. Kind? Yes. Good? Absolutely. Thoughtful, sincere, observant, smart, hilarious, goofy, and passionate? All of those things, and in spades. But he was also capable of immaturity. He was capable of stepping wrong, of lashing out unfairly, of being sarcastic and even mean if the right buttons were pushed.
He wasn't above jealousy, and saying stupid things in ways he didn't mean because of that jealousy.
But when she'd put it all out there in front of him, she'd been honest about her feelings, that he'd hurt her, and he came back with sincere guilt, and while he admitted he couldn't promise he wouldn't step wrong again, he was going to promise that he would never do this again, and he was going to try to be better than the version of himself he'd shown her that morning in her loft.
She believed him. Sarah was surprised by how easy it was to believe him, even as she knew how serious it was to give him a second chance here. (And, on the other hand, how serious it was that he was giving her a second chance, too.)
All of those times the guys like Christian and all of the others had fucked up, hurt her, she hadn't gotten apologies per se. Or maybe they were apologies, but their own versions of apologies that she knew in hindsight weren't apologies but laying the blame anywhere else but at their own feet. And she'd taken them as apologies at the time.
The 'it won't happen again' she'd heard before. So many times. She hadn't believed any of them. It was how things were in her relationships since her very first one as a teenager. It won't happen again… Right. Sure.
But Chuck? …She believed Chuck.
His apology was a full-blown apology, one that made her ankles threaten to give out, and they were already on very unsteady hard ground with nothing but three-inch heels keeping said ankles from breaking.
Maybe it wasn't fair that she'd assigned him a way higher bar to clear, but he'd established that way higher bar himself by being…who he was. The guy who did and said sweet things inherently, without having to be prompted. The guy who was thoughtful, respectful, and cared enough to listen to her, observe and log away what was and wasn't important to her. How could she not assign him a higher bar than those who'd come before him?
And that was why those things he'd said to her had hurt so badly, worse than she'd been ready for.
"The, uh, python was very heavy. Everyone owes Britney Spears respect and probably an apology, too," Sarah said instead of saying any of what was going through her head out loud.
"Um, I'm of the mind that everyone owes her an apology anyway, with or without the python situation."
"That's fair," she giggled, squeezing his hand back. The big-hearted nerd.
These last few days were a reminder that even the big-hearted ones could punch hurtful things into another person's heart if they're hurt enough themselves. She hadn't exactly helped by running off to work with the person who'd hurt him, either. While the wound was still bleeding.
"Chuck, we never should've done this video and I'm sorry," she blurted. "I know I already apologized more than once, but—I know," she cut him off when he made to dispute her. "I know, you're right. That would've meant prioritizing guys we've just met over the success of our band that we've been working on for years. But there's still right and wrong, and in hindsight, it was pretty wrong. And I keep thinking about how obvious it was that the so-called big opportunity would be a dead-end. I was too close to a potential big break, and I wanted it too badly. But who the fuck has their eyes on an Ocelot car commercial? Who—in the metal genre—would even see that and go, 'oh wow, they're it, get me their info'? I feel so stupid."
He shook his head vehemently, turning the car into his neighborhood. When she glanced in the mirror on her side of the car, she saw their van a good distance behind them but still following. "Morgan and I did the same exact thing, Sarah. A rich guy swept in with his James Bond accent and James Bond suit and his sunglasses at night, slapped a contract and two-hundred thousand dollar checks down in front of us, and we said 'Where do we sign?!' like a bunch o' desperate dummies." He scoffed. "Didn't realize what I'd done handed said James Bond wannabe our whole fucking show. Idiot."
She let go of his hand finally, stretching her fingers a bit, only to put her hand on his shoulder. "Will it make you feel better that the last words he said to me before Dylan drove us away from that stupid mess were, 'Noooooo! NOOOOO! I can't lose the girl to Chuck Bartooowwskkiiiii!'" she exclaimed in a warbled English accent.
Chuck burst into laughter, filling her chest with warmth. "You're just making that up! There's no way he actually said that!"
"I'm not making it up! Ask the rest of the band!" She gently thunked his bicep with her fist. "He actually said it. Through Zondra's window."
"No way." He giggled happily. "…You know what? It does make me feel better. Thank you."
She giggled, too. "It was almost sad."
"I'd feel sad for him if he didn't attempt to steal my entire livelihood from me."
Wincing, she squeezed his arm again. Only…the way he phrased that made her think twice. "Wait… Attempt? I mean, didn't he steal the show from you? He fired you and then told you he owned it thanks to the contract."
Chuck pulled into his driveway. "Well? He thought so." She stared at him, her jaw slowly falling open. "Captain Awesome had an idea," he said as he turned off the car. "You know how Morgan and I were against Cole taking off that last part of our show's name? The Sessions part, right? But oooh, the producers panel wants it this waaaay," he mocked, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah?" she prompted, her heart starting to race.
"Well, seems they'd already put just Games N Rock in the contract Morgs and I signed. We didn't notice 'cause, again…" He pointed to himself with his thumb as he took off his seatbelt. "Dummy."
She gave him a bit of a glare and undid her own seatbelt, both of them climbing out of the car.
"Sarah, they put just Games N Rock in the contract, throughout the whole contract. That isn't our name. We're Games N Rock Sessions. That's what's all over our Twitch channel, our website, our promo stuff, social media. We've got the full thing copyrighted. A lawyer of someone…we, uh, are consulting with currently…" She didn't miss the way he said that. Interesting… "She said the name difference would hold water in court if we continued with our show as is and CB Productions tried to sue us over it. She's in our corner if he does try to sue, the little bastard. Hehe. We still own our show, Sarah."
"What?!" Sarah laughed breathily, hurrying around the car and jumping at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders as he caught her with a grin. "Oh my God, that's amazing. That guy. He really is Captain Awesome."
"Told you," he chuckled, hoisting her off of the ground and just holding her tight against his chest.
It seemed Cole Barker didn't have any power over either of them anymore, and she couldn't have gotten better news than this. There was nothing better than that.
At least she thought so in that moment. She hadn't gone down into the Bartowski basement yet, after all.
The rest of the band walked up from where they'd parked the van against the curb in front of Chuck's house.
"Who's awesome?" Mac asked as they approached.
Sarah pulled back from Chuck's embrace, a bit reluctantly…admittedly. And he lowered her feet back to the ground.
"Chuck and Morgan still own Games N Rock Sessions. The stupid fuckers that wrote that contract with CB Productions used Games N Rock…which isn't the name of their show," she exclaimed, wiggling her eyebrows.
"No shit!" Zondra gasped, turning to look at Chuck. "That's gonna hold up in court?"
"A lawyer in the industry said so," he said with a shrug.
Zondra grabbed him by the shoulders, laughing. "That just made my day."
"Fuck yeah, dude." Dylan high-fived him, and Mac went in for a full hug, wordless, just grinning like an idiot.
Blushing cutely, Chuck shrugged in Sarah's direction, then gestured to the door off the side of the house that led directly down into the basement. "Let's go on down."
As he led the way to the door, Zondra asked, "Hey, you ever gonna give us the details on this plan of yours?"
Sarah spotted a mischievous look on his handsome face as he turned to look at Rizzo over his shoulder, smiling devilishly. "Yes."
"Yes? That's it? That's all we get?"
It seemed that was all they'd get for the moment. He didn't respond as they walked down in a single file line.
Sarah was the last one down, making sure to securely shut the door behind her as she stepped onto the staircase. She heard, "What the fuck?" from Dylan and "OOHHHH!" from Mac, complete silence from Zondra, before she'd even gotten halfway down the stairs.
She hurried the rest of the way down and as she finally emerged into the basement, her feet halted of their own volition so suddenly she nearly tripped over them.
Morgan was waiting for them with Ellie and Awesome behind him. Awesome gestured at what was clearly a recent addition to the basement. A fully functioning rehearsal area that would very easily double as a performance area. At least, it apparently would tonight.
"A loser with a webcam in a filthy basement…" Dylan mumbled under his breath, and she knew he only meant for her to hear it with how close she stood to him. She sent him an emotional look. The guitarist's awe became a laugh and he grabbed his head in both hands. "Bruh, can I go in it?"
Chuck cracked up. "Dude, of course. This is your space! We put it together for you guys."
Mac let out a whoop and charged over to the drum pad in the middle of the rehearsal space, pointing down at it. "This is mine!"
Morgan rushed over to join him, rolling over the stool, with an excited, "And it's adjustable, King!"
Zondra and Dylan were already inspecting the dark grey acoustic panels that had been hung on the walls around the space, glee in their faces as they chattered at one another.
Chuck finally turned towards her. He must not have been able to read the look on her face because he tilted his torso to the side and wrinkled up his nose adorably, stuffing his hands in his pockets shyly. "Is…this okay? I know it's, uh, it's a lot."
Sarah wanted to dispel him of any idea that this was anything less than the most incredible thing anyone had ever done. And she wanted to do it immediately. So she closed the distance between them, grabbed his face, planted a smacking kiss on his lips, and when she pulled back, she swallowed hard, blinking to keep the wetness in her eyes from spilling down her cheeks. This guy with his webcam and his basement. "You're incredible."
"Oh, good." He beamed, relieved.
"You did all of this for us?"
"Not just me. Morgan, Ellie, Awesome." She looked past him at the other three. Ellie was just watching quietly, light spilling from every bit of her. "The Buy More crew helped, too, and they'll be back later tonight for the live stream. Gives you a little bit of a live, in-person audience."
"Okay, tell us what this live stream is. What's all this for? You're gonna tell us right now." Zondra turned from the acoustic pad she was feeling under her fingertips and fixed Chuck with a threatening look. "Or I'll riot."
Ellie smiled with pride at the younger woman, crossing her arms. "I just like you."
Zondra blushed. "Th-Thanks."
Chuck broke away from Sarah's grip and held his hands out. "Okay, okay. Don't riot. You guys are gonna lose it, so strap in." He climbed onto the couch, as if he needed a stage for the announcement. The cute nerd. He was so excited, though, she felt anticipation building. What in the hell had these two dopes cooked up for them?
"Have any of you heard of MetalMania?"
Dylan and Mac both pushed off from where they'd been leaning, glancing at each other, then back at Chuck. …Had they? She hadn't.
"MetalMania, as in…the MetalMania?" Zondra asked, crossing her arms. So apparently Sarah was alone in not knowing what he was talking about. "Yeah, of course. Why? We get an ad with them or something?" Her eyes got big and she dropped her arms to her sides. "Did we?!"
Oh wow, Chuck's Cheshire cat grin that grew over his face… She should not be this attracted to it, but she was.
He hummed doubtfully, twisting up his face cutely. "No."
"Oh." Riz slumped a little. She'd really built herself up there.
"You're going to be live-streamed onto one of their shows."
"WHAT?!" Zondra snapped, right as Dylan yelled, "SHIT, WHAT?!"
"OOOHHHH MYYY GODDDDDD!" Mac leaned forward and put his hands on his knees.
Sarah raised her eyebrows and finally drummed up the courage to ask, "So…what is this?"
They all spun to regard her with looks of mixed horror and shock.
Almost as if she'd just called metal the worst genre to ever exist.
"No…way. We've watched MetalMania with you around, haven't we?" Dylan asked.
"That was Games N Rock Sessions," Zondra said, pointing at Chuck and Morgan.
"No, that was… Maybe it was something else I was thinking…"
Chuck cut through their mumbling at each other. "MetalMania is the Internet hub for metalheads. And I emphasized the on purpose."
He climbed down from the couch and perched on the arm. She couldn't even begin to express how much it meant that he wasn't joining in on the HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS, SARAH? fest and instead was just answering her question.
She loved him. A lot.
"Twenty-four/seven, all they talk about, all they promote, is metal. Power metal, glam metal, hard metal, screaming metal, death metal, doom metal, black metal, metalcore, thrash…"
"Avant-garde metal," Morgan added in a bad French accent, lifting his finger in a scholarly way.
Chuck pointed at him. "That, too. They have bands perform, they show old music videos, they chat, have very serious deep-dive analytical discussion, they play music themselves, have folks on as guests. I mean, I didn't know about Nightwish until I heard their shit on MetalMania."
"Which host was that?" Dylan asked.
"Barry."
"Awwww duuude, my man, Barry! Love that hour!"
Sarah made a face. "How did I not know about this?" She turned to her bandmates. "You guys really held out on me with this stuff."
"How were we supposed to know you didn't know about it? Like…everybody knows about it. We're in a metal band, Sar. You brought us all together to play metal. Everybody knows about it." Zondra emphasized again.
Sarah held up her hands. "Okay, sorry!"
"This isn't important! What's important is we're really…actually…going to be performing live…broadcasting to the MetalMania audience?" Mac asked.
"Yep."
"Fuuuuuckkk! How did you do this?!" Dylan exclaimed, pushing his hands against his head again. He hopped up and down a few times. And when he stopped, he turned to Sarah. "Sarah, I know you don't understand how monumental this is, but to put it into perspective, millions of metalheads watch MetalMania every single fuckin' day. It's like going to church."
Her jaw dropped. Jesus Christ. "Millions?" She spun on Chuck.
"Well, he means, uh…millions watch throughout the day, but the channels maybe don't get…that much at one time. Live." Oh. That made sense. "But, um…this show might get…pretty close to it…"
Her heart was racing. "What's that mean?"
"Wait, whose show are we playin'?" Dylan asked.
There was a tense silence in the basement as Chuck and Morgan met gazes, both of them with excitement practically bubbling up from their insides.
And then they turned to the band and spouted in a simultaneous yell, "VERA'S POWER HOUR!"
Zondra actually screamed, scaring the shit out of Sarah. The guitarist pressed her hands to her face and began dancing in place like that lady in Flashdance the one time Sarah had watched it.
Mac was screeching, hopping up and down with Dylan, their hands clasped together in the space between them.
"So this is…big?" Sarah asked, watching them all with wide eyes and a grin. She met Ellie's gaze and thank God at least one other person in this basement was on the same page as her. The brunette shrugged with a commiserating and supportive look and mouthed, "No clue."
Chuck sidled in close to her, his hand pressed to the small of her back warmly.
"Let me put it this way," he said quietly as the others continued to freak out. "Critical Hellfire is a metal band—a fuckin' radical metal band that truly wails." She smirked at him with no small amount of adoration. That damn word he kept using. It was so cute and she hoped she never stopped using it. "Vera Carlotta, aka the host of Vera's Power Hour, is in the ten o'clock timeslot in MetalMania because she earned it after years of skilled career climbing through the platform's hierarchy with pure, raw talent. She is a legend, Sarah. The MetalMania legend. She's had Ann and Nancy Wilson, Angus Young, Alice Cooper…" Sarah's jaw dropped. "The Power Hour will be yours, Sarah Walker. Oh yes…it will be yours."
She was having a hard time wrapping her head around this. While everyone else was still flipping their shit, she was still so confused, unable to settle any of it in her mind.
"How in the hell did you manage this?" she asked.
"I'll get to that, I promise. I'm just waiting for them to chill out a little before I tell you the insane part."
She raised an eyebrow. "There's more?" Oh help her, that Cheshire cat grin again. She spun to her bandmates. "Shh shh! Sh! Chill! Wait, apparently there's more," she cut in, waving her hand through the air.
They piped down, eyes wide.
"There's more?" Rizzo asked.
"Morgan, you wanna do the honors?"
"Oh-ho, DO I?!" This time Morgan climbed up onto the couch, holding his hands out for everyone to simmer down, even though they'd all properly simmered. She'd let him have his moment. "Vera's Power Hour has an investor you might know…"
"Just fuckin' tell us!" Rizzo snapped.
"Ever hear of North Star Audio?"
"Yeah, duh. Most of the new metal bands' albums going out these days are signed through NSA." Mac shrugged, having found a drumstick somewhere. He was twirling it distractedly between the fingers of his left hand.
Morgan continued. "The biggest financier of Vera's Power Hour is Diane Beckman, CEO and founder of North Star Audio. And she watches every…single…stream…live."
Everything inside of Sarah Walker stopped. Her heart, her brain, any amount of movement including the rush of her blood. All she heard was a quiet ringing sound in her right ear, and then it moved to her left, and then it was in both.
Before she knew it, she felt something soft squish under her backside and her boyfriend was leaning down in front of her face, his hands on her shoulders. "Sarah…? You okay?"
She shook herself and realized he must've moved her to the couch as it was the nearest horizontal surface that wasn't the floor—the floor Chuck probably thought she'd faint onto if he didn't find her a seat quick.
But…
"Diane Beckman," she breathed, her heart absolutely racing now.
From zero to ten thousand, just like that.
"Well, she didn't know Vera but she apparently knows Diane," Morgan chuckled.
"Of course I know Diane Beckman!" She stood quickly, Chuck's hands still a steadying force on her body. "I mean, she's only a titan in the industry, and she's singlehandedly kept metal in the conversation. She's my fucking idol." It settled in Sarah's gut so suddenly she nearly had to sit on the couch again, but instead she spun on Chuck. "She's going to be watching us perform tonight?"
"…Yes." He seemed unsure, as if he was afraid she might teeter again and he'd have to catch her, plop her back onto the couch safely.
"Chuck, what did you do?" He looked like he didn't know what to do or say to that, but then something else rose in his face, maybe a bit of contrition almost? And she realized how her question came out, immediately rushing to rectify that. "Sorry! No! I didn't mean it in a bad way. Diane fucking Beckman is going to watch Critical Hellfire do a live performance. That's—Fuck me, I was gonna say that's the dream, but I don't think I've even dared to dream that'd ever be possible. What the fuck did you do to get us this?" She turned to glance at Morgan too. "Did you guys sell your souls to the Devil or something?"
She was so close to bursting. She was barely holding it all in. And she didn't even really know why. Something was telling her to hold back.
Morgan laughed. "Yes. But that was a long time ago and it was totally worth it." They all looked at him funny. "What, you think my beard is this perfect naturally?"
"Oh God," Ellie groused.
Mac and Dylan cracked up as Devon gave the bearded Twitch host a high-five.
Chuck ignored the antics altogether, explaining for Sarah. Again.
"Honestly, we were ready to go live on GnR and hope that caught fire and went viral in the metal scene and got to someone who could make a difference for Critical Hellfire, you know? But we thought…what if…?" He sent them a crooked smirk. "And we shot the MetalMania producers an email that explained our situation. And we wondered if maybe they could help us… We were thinking—well, if they even saw the email in the first place and were feeling really charitable, they might promote our stream and get more people to hop on and watch, yeah?"
"Yeah, we thought it couldn't hurt to try," Morgan input, shrugging.
"But they saw it. Specifically Jake Horne and Dan Proctor, two of the big producers. Turns out—"
"They watch Games N Rock Sessions and they're massive fans of ours!" Morgan blurted, immediately covering his mouth. "Sorry!" he reached out towards Chuck. "Sorry, I just got so excited and exploded."
Chuck laughed good-naturedly. "They knew something wasn't right when they saw the Cole stream on Recruit Emperors. They thought the interview was hilarious, but then when it went to break and never came back on, they were super suspicious bad shit went down behind the scenes. They agreed to chat with us about how they could help. Morgan and I cleared up the whole mess with Cole for 'em, told them all about it. Everything." Sarah gave him a wide-eyed look and he blushed, clearing his throat. "N-Not everything. I didn't exactly tell 'em it was a crapshoot trying to get you guys to leave the music video in the desert and come back here to perform. Um. Oops."
Jesus Christ, Chuck and Morgan seriously stuck their necks out with this. What if they hadn't had enough faith in Chuck and Morgan to leave CB Productions and the fake cactus and python behind? This would've been so deeply embarrassing for both of these guys. Promising a band performance and having to admit they actually hadn't gotten the band before setting it all up?
It was a huge risk, and Chuck had taken it.
It was a bout of confidence that shocked her coming from Chuck Bartowski, what with how often she saw his self-esteem floundering, the amount of times she'd had to hear him question what a girl like her was doing with a guy like him. This risk took a shit ton of confidence, faith in himself to be able to pull it off. And he was right to be confident, because he'd done it and he'd done it without dangling Vera Carlotta and Diane Beckman as carrots to get them to leave, and this was probably the hottest any man had ever been. Certainly, she'd never found him sexier than she did right in this moment. His arms crossed, brow furrowed, curls mussed, jeans still scuffed by dirt after Producer Cole and Director Tanner had dragged him down off of the rock he'd climbed onto to win the band back, to tell her he loved her. The crazy fool.
She was positive it was all showing in her face as she looked at him, and she didn't care. She didn't care who saw it.
"H-Hold on." Mac held up a hand. "You walked off that set without saying a word about Vera's Power Hour, Diane Beckman…hell, you didn't even mention MetalMania, dude. Why?! We would'a all jumped the fuck off those rocks and climbed into that van without you having to spill your guts. I don't get it."
Mac didn't get it, but Sarah did. And she smiled harder at her man who'd put his faith in himself, and in them, out there in the desert. In a huge way. He'd also been insanely smart, which didn't surprise her one bit.
"I learned from our mistakes," Chuck said, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he shrugged. "We fucked up trusting Cole Barker and not reading that contract we signed with him in the beginning. Strike one. Then we fucked up thinking we could have you guys perform live on our stream, trusting him not to screw us. He did. Strike two. You think I was gonna drop all this delicious juice about Jake, Dan, Vera, and Diane in front of that slithering no-good bastard and give him an opportunity to wreck our lives for the third time? Three strikes, we'd be out."
Zondra let out a snort and crossed her arms, shaking her head. "Uh huh. That's sneaky."
Mac raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Oh, wow. If you'd said any of that in front of him, he would absolutely be on the phone with his fancy contacts and before we even got back to LA, all of this would be kaput."
Chuck pointed at him in confirmation.
"Also, it kind of feels good you guys trusted us without knowing what the gig was," Morgan added, and the adorable Beard was blushing, wasn't he?
"Awwww, of course we did."
Dylan did a cute sort of staggering lunge towards the shorter man and wrapped him up in a hug. Mac sprang at them as if he was missing out on something and hugged them both. Then he reached out, snagged Chuck by the collar of his shirt and yanked him in.
Zondra rolled her eyes and gracefully crossed the room to join in. Sarah's boyfriend shot her a wink and reached for her with one hand. So she sighed and strolled over, cuddling up against his and Mac's backs, her arms around each of them.
"No way can I resist my favorite thing!"
Devon crashed against them, making Morgan, who got the brunt of the impact, grunting out an, "Oww."
"It's a group hug! Come on, babe!" he belted over his shoulder. And she felt Ellie cuddle in too. "I've never been in one this big before," Devon announced happily after a few long seconds.
And of course Dylan couldn't resist after a beat: "That's what he sa—"
"Okay, I'm out," Zondra interrupted, pulling out of the hug and walking away. The rest of them broke it off and moved away, shaking their head at the guitarist.
Dylan stood there with a frozen shrug, jaw hanging open, as if aghast he'd put them off with his raunchy joke. "Fine, y'all are no fun." He snorted. "Anyway, how'd you get 'em to agree to Power Hour? I mean, that's some charity."
Chuck answered. "We sent them one of your demos along with the explanation, just to show them what you guys sound like, that we aren't just blowing smoke about this amateur band. We needed them to know Critical Hellfire's the real deal."
"Which demo'd you send?" Dylan asked.
"Rocket."
"Aw fuck yeah, man!" Her guitarist closed the distance and high-fived the crap out of her boyfriend, making the older of the two shake his hand out a little afterwards.
"I mean, c'mon, it's a metal fantasia," he said, still shaking his hand.
Dylan thumped him on the back gratefully and as he pulled away, he pointed. "You're a genius."
"Stopppppp," Chuck groused, giggling adorably. "Anyway, Jake Horne straight-up said you guys are balls to the wall, tits to the grits, nethers to the leather rock."
Interesting wording, but she tried not to get caught up in that and instead focusing on what all of this meant.
"Fuck me," Mac breathed. Zondra was breathily laughing, and Sarah was stunned to find it was almost a nervous sound. Zondra didn't…get nervous.
For that matter, neither did she.
"He moved you guys from nine-thirty to Vera's show. You'll be right in the middle of it at ten-thirty. That's how much he and Dan loved your sound. They believe in you guys." He shrugged. "I mean…heh…not as much as we do. Of course." He gestured between Morgan and himself.
"Of course," Morgan repeated in faux modesty, holding his hands up, palms to the ceiling.
Sarah heard a nasally giggle come out of her as she shook her head and she pressed both of her palms to her jaw, grinning. "You guys really did it. You're getting us an audience with the founder and CEO of North Star Audio and I kind of can't believe it. No offense."
"None taken. I can't really believe it muhself," Chuck said in a cute, silly voice. "Essentially, we believe a large part of this was you all. If Jake and Dan hadn't popped that demo in and thought you were…" He pointed at Morgan.
"Balls to the wall, tits to the grits, nethers to the leather!" Morgan yelled.
Chuck snapped his fingers and thumped his fist into his other palm. "Well, they never would've decided to put you in front of Diane Beckman."
Sarah could only shake her head in awe. What she really wanted to do was kiss the living daylights out of him. And fuck it, Morgan too. Maybe she'd only snuggle him.
But they didn't have the time for that now as the guys rushed up the stairs to the outer yard two at a time, chattering excitedly. She knew they were getting their instruments out of the van.
They had to figure out what they'd play, they had to see how this new space sounded and adjust accordingly, they had to get situated, wrap their heads around this and focus. This was the new mission.
And first and foremost, because Sarah had priorities, damn it, she quietly made her way over to Ellie and gave her a sheepish look. "H-Hi, Ellie." Maybe she was shy and maybe she was a fool for it, but she had just been in a fight with this woman's brother for a few days and she had no idea what sort of ideas the surgeon had about her now.
"Hi!"
Without pause, the brunette wrapped her in a tight hug. Well. That settled that.
Sarah beamed, hugging her back. And when she was relinquished, she was embarrassed by the amount of glitter from her stupid makeup that had gotten on the other woman's blouse. "Shit…sorry. Um…"
"It's glitter, don't worry, I won't die from it."
"D'you think it'd be okay if I used your bathroom to change, calm my hair down, wipe off this ghastly makeup?"
Ellie nodded eagerly. "Follow me, please. I'll help… with the hair at least. And I've got makeup remover for the thick gunk they slapped on you…" Sarah smiled shyly at Ellie's back, and then she glanced over her shoulder towards Chuck as she started up the stairs into the house's main floor.
He was already swept up in helping Zondra set up the mic stands, taking orders from the guitarist like a champ.
Her heart thumped steadily as Ellie chattered at her.
"—but the hair is kind of cool. I wish mine did that, but I swear to God, you'd get it to tease for a second and then it would just phhhllleepp go flat again," she mumbled in annoyance. "Just like…so limp. The worst."
Sarah giggled genuinely, her heart lighter than it had been in a long, long time, and oh God, she was bursting with nerves, too. Because in a matter of hours, she'd be standing in front of a camera with her band, and they'd have to fucking make it count, wouldn't they?
A/N: I made up nethers to the leather and I'm not proud of myself.
...I'm a little proud of myself.
-SC
