The Detective and the Tech Guy
Authors: Steampunk . Chuckster & dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: A case of mistaken identity and murder brings Sarah Walker, Pinkerton agent, to sunny California. Protecting the heir to the Bartowski Electronics Corporation should be just business-but Chuck Bartowski fills out a suit nicely and makes a mean martini. Chuck lobbied to hire the Pinkerton Agency, but had no idea that the detective they'd send would be as alluring, intelligent and fascinating as Sarah Walker. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man movies co-written by Steampunk . Chuckster and dettiot.
Disclaimer: Neither of us own Chuck. If we did, there would have been a 1940s flashback episode. And a musical episode. And . . . you get the idea.
Author's Note: In which 'dressy casual' is finally explained! I think one of the most fun parts of writing this story is taking small things in canon and working them into our universe. dettiot does a choice job at it in this chapter especially, I think. Not only that, but in this chapter she wrote one of the most beautiful (in my humble opinion) moments of Charah she's written to date. So without further ado, settle in and enjoy.

Oh, one more thing. This chapter has a dress code. It's dressy casual.

XOXOXOXO

"Dressy casual? What the hell does that mean?"

Chuck stared at the invitation he had just received to his sister's wedding.

Eleanor Bartowski Woodcomb and Devon Woodcomb

Invite You to Join Us

As We Celebrate Our Marriage

Saturday, June 12

Beginning at 4:00pm

Cabrillo Beach, San Pedro, California

Dressy Casual

Clambake and Fish Fry

Open Bar

Actually, Ellie and Devon had eloped four months ago—during a drunken Valentine's Day jaunt to Las Vegas—much to the chagrin of their mothers. It had taken this long for Ellie to work her way back into Mary Bartowski's graces, thus the beach party to "celebrate the wedding".

But dressy casual … he had no idea what that meant. And lately, when he didn't understand something, there was only one person he wanted to ask.

It was one thing to go to Sarah Walker with questions about security or how to better protect his father, though. It was something very different to ask for her help with dress codes.

However … she was a woman—and what a woman, he thought idly. And women knew about dress codes.

Chuck swiveled back and forth in his Swedish ergonomic desk chair, mulling this over. Ever since their drinking escapades a few weeks ago, he'd noticed the beautiful Pinkerton agent seemed to be loosening up around him. Not when they were in mixed company, of course. Then she was all business. But when it was just the two of them, her mask dropped, revealing a funny, smart, flirtatious woman. A woman he really liked spending time with. Someone he could imagine getting closer to.

It might not happen while she was on the job. He could understand her not wanting to muddy the waters by dating a client. But once the case was solved? Why couldn't they date then?

Of course, he might just be lost in dreamland. But it was something to think about. And until she said flat out that she wasn't interested in him, he was going to make sure she knew that he was most definitely interested in her. So between that and this invitation, he had an idea.

Lifting up the invitation from the desk, he tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans and headed off towards the cubicle that Sarah had been assigned near his office. He loped through the halls, nodding and smiling and high-fiving with the people he walked past, until he reached her desk.

Sarah was leaning back in her own desk chair, her feet up on the desk and a bunch of files in her lap. The image was much too tempting for him not to linger for a moment, to put off announcing his presence just yet. Because she made quite an image.

Her feet were in a pair of high black pumps, her ankles daintily crossed one over the other, and her skirt ended a few inches above her knees. That left what seemed like miles of tanned, smooth, finely-muscled legs for him to enjoy viewing.

Chuck had never considered himself a leg man. He might have to reconsider that.

Before he got too carried away, he cleared his throat and moved into her cubicle, half-leaning against, half-sitting on her desk. Sarah raised one eyebrow as she looked up at him. "Getting comfortable, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Might as well," he said with a grin. "Since I'm going to have to persuade you for some help."

Now both eyebrows went up. She pushed back from her desk a little, bringing her legs down and sitting up straight in her chair. "Did you come bearing martinis and chocolates? Because otherwise, my help is hard to gain."

He snapped his fingers. "Darn. Knew I forgot something. I'll owe you one if you can explain this." He held the reception invitation out to her.

Sarah eyed it, then looked up at him. "It's a wedding invitation."

"I did get that," Chuck said, rolling his eyes. "No, I meant the dress code. What, to a female, is 'dressy casual'?"

"Hmmm, let me get Emily Post on the line and I'll find out for you." Her tone was dry and cutting, but there was a sparkle in her eyes.

"Seriously, I need to know. And you always look great, so I figured you'd know."

"Why don't you just ask your sister?" Sarah asked, tilting her head to one side. "She'd know what she meant."

"If I ask her, she'll do that really heavy sigh that big sisters perfected back in the Garden of Eden and say 'It's so simple, Chuck'. And my sister already thinks my brains are a bit suspect, with how I've stayed in the family bosom." Chuck tucked the invite back into his pocket. "If I promise you martinis, chocolate, and a large bouquet of your favorite flower, will you tell me what you think?"

Sarah looked at him, then grinned. "First you'd have to guess what my favorite flower is. But rather than keep you guessing until Doomsday, I'll tell you. It's gardenias. I like them loosely arranged, in a medium-height vase. Natural yet elegant." She lifted the files off her lap and set them on her desk before standing up. "C'mon, let's go."

"Go?" Chuck spluttered, rising to his feet. "What do you mean?"

"'Dressy casual' means a linen suit or loose-fitting trousers and a button-down, all in pale colors. And since you have none of those items in your closet, this means you have to go shopping." Sarah's smile as she explained all this to him was wide, delighted, and slightly feral.

"I should have known letting you into my closet was a bad idea," Chuck said, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, then, Obi-Wan of Closets. Take me shopping."

It wasn't until they were halfway to the employee parking garage that Chuck realized something. His whole family would be at this shindig. That meant that Sarah would have to be there, as the Pinkerton agent responsible for protecting his father and himself. And that meant she'd need something dressy casual for herself.

He felt a grin grow on his face, a grin that was definitely less scary than Sarah's earlier smile, as he contemplated how she would react to him buying her a dress.

XOXOXOXO

Although she could never admit it to Chuck, she was pleasantly surprised to find he was easy to shop with. Sure, he seemed to like clothes and could dress himself very well, but he could have a personal shopper who picked out his clothes. But within a half hour, it was clear that Chuck actually did the hard work.

"The linen suit is a good idea, but don't they come in colors other than white?" he asked as they flipped through several clothing racks. "I'd feel like Colonel Sanders in this." He held up a crisp white suit.

She couldn't help laughing. "Not a good look for you." When she spied one in a creamy pale beige, a few shades lighter than tea, she grabbed it and held it up to him.

He looked down. "You think this would work?"

Looking up at him, she grinned. "Yeah." The color of the suit set off his skin, highlighting his tan. With the right dress shirt—a pale blue, or maybe something with stripes—it'd be perfect for a beach reception.

"Here, hold this," she said, pushing the suit into his arms and heading to the dress shirts. Within a few moments, she had picked a blue shirt and a coordinating tie. "There. Perfect."

Chuck eyed her. "I'm going to try this on. Then we'll see about perfect."

Giving him a wide smile, she took a seat in a chair near the dressing rooms and whipped out her phone. "I want an extra martini after this, because you doubted me."

He didn't say anything else, just headed for the dressing room, mumbling under his breath. While he changed, she sorted through a few emails and checked her schedule for tomorrow.

"Well?"

"One second," she said, holding a finger up as she finished reading an email. When she was done, she looked up and felt her eyes widen.

Chuck was leaning against the doorway, his hands in his pockets. If she didn't know him better, she would say he had selected a pose that would make him look even more attractive. As it was … he looked amazing. The suit struck a balance between showing his body and being loose and relaxed. As she had suspected, the color was ideal for him, and he just looked …

Swallowing, Sarah stood up. "Good."

Chuck smiled at her. "Yeah? I have to admit you were right."

Reaching out, she adjusted his tie a little. "That's why you should always listen to me."

"I thought I already did," he said, leaning again. "I'll have to be more obvious about it from here on out."

His cocky yet sweet response made her regain her equilibrium. "And now you know what dressy casual is."

"Great. Let me change back into my clothes and pay for all this, then we can get your dress."

Sarah blinked. "Pardon me?"

"My whole family will be at this party. So you'll need to be there. Ergo, you'll need a dress."

"I'm sure I have something in my closet that will work …"

"You brought your entire wardrobe with you?" Chuck asked, raising his eyebrows.

She grimaced. "Fine! Change!"

His grin should be illegal, it was so mischievous. He must have been able to get away with murder as a small boy.

As soon as he had changed, Chuck steered her over into the womenswear department. She half-expected him to suggest ridiculous and outlandish choices, dresses she would never wear, but instead he hung back. When she held up a dress, he would nod or shake his head, often with a comment that made her take a second look before silently agreeing with him.

Soon she had an armful of dresses, but was secretly leaning towards a dress that Chuck had liked: a long strapless dress, patterned with blue and green vines on a pale cream background. She could almost feel the skirt swish around her legs.

Once she got it on, she spent a minute tugging on the zipper, trying to get it more than halfway up. Nothing seemed to get it up, not even her sure-fire trick of jumping up and down as she yanked on the zipper. Finally, there seemed to be no other option but opening the door a little and calling out, "Chuck?"

He looked up from the issue of Wired he was flipping through, then walked over to the door. "What is it?"

She opened the door wider and turned the side with the half-zipped zipper towards him. "I need some help with this."

When she looked up at him, she suddenly realized just how intimate this moment was. He knew she wasn't wearing a bra. He could see the skin of her side, could brush his fingers against her skin as he eased the zipper down—up, up!

"Do you need some help, dearie?"

The grandmotherly woman who was in charge of the dressing rooms suddenly appeared. Chuck turned on his heel without a word, returning to the chairs in the waiting area. Sarah swallowed and turned to the woman, getting her help with the zipper.

The moment when she stepped out of the dressing room was bound to be awkward. But all she could focus on was how good it felt to have Chuck gaze at her with a stunned look on his face. To know he was stunned by her.

"Wow."

"Yeah?" she asked hesitantly. She turned towards the full-length mirror, twisting back and forth.

"Yeah," he said, suddenly appearing behind her, looking at her in the mirror. Something about their eyes meeting in the mirror … it was different from looking at him face-on. With him so close to her, there was a tingle in the air. And having him look at her, his amber brown eyes the same color as whisky and twice as intoxicating …

Sarah turned around and took a step away from him. "Thank you for the help. I think I'll go with this one."

Chuck nodded. "Great." Was it her imagination, or was his voice a bit deeper than normal? "Um, just, go ahead and change and I'll pay for it."

"What?" she asked, blinking at him. "You'll pay?"

"You wouldn't have to buy this dress if it wasn't for me. So it only seems right that I pay for it. And because I can't figure out what kind of gift I can give you that says 'Thank you for protecting me'."

Oh, this was so unprofessional. Pinkerton agents were not permitted to accept gifts from clients. She had a very generous expense account, and this dress would be a perfectly valid use of it. But, for some reason, she found herself nodding.

And that made Chuck smile at her. So bright and big that she felt like she had swallowed the sun. It was something she had never felt before, something she really liked feeling.

Something she shouldn't be feeling.

She couldn't stand here and keep looking at Chuck smile at her. Sarah took a step back, then turned and hurried into the dressing room, needing to have more protection for herself than this gorgeous floaty beautiful dress. The dress that Chuck was going to buy for her.