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: I think Steampunk . Chuckster's ability to write amazing fic is on full display in this chapter. Because the way she shifts from silly to sexy and back again, without becoming too goofy or over-the-top, is extremely impressive in this one. Honestly, this feels like an episode of Chuck that we didn't get-if Sarah had been a Pinkerton detective and Chuck was just a genius at a software company, that is. :-) I bet you'll feel the same way when you're done reading The Detective Kicks the Tech Guy's Ass.
XOXOXOXO
Chuck felt excitement build as he walked beside Sarah towards the dojo.
Okay. Admittedly, it wasn't a dojo. He'd cleared an area towards the back of the gym and put mats down on the floor. And then he'd called it a dojo.
"So do I call you Master Walker?" he chirped, swinging his gym bag over his shoulder jauntily and grinning at her profile. Thankfully, Sarah was wearing an actual shirt this time on top of her sports bra. At least, he assumed she was wearing her sports bra underneath. He hadn't asked.
He thought maybe if he ever asked Detective Walker anything like that, she'd most likely destroy his manhood with a single movement that he'd barely see until the searing pain cascaded through his entire body and he hit the floor in a half-dead heap.
"No," she answered a bit crisply.
"Right. No Master Walker then."
His heart was racing as he gave her a side-glance, his eyes sweeping down her tall, proud figure. Her hair was up and she was in athletic wear, but it did nothing to diminish the strength of her extreme beauty. Her loveliness. That was a good word, he thought to himself—lovely. She was so lovely. And…
Hmm…she has makeup on. Why is she wearing makeup this early in the morning?
A thought occurred to him that was perhaps a little silly, but maybe not so much. Was Sarah Walker wearing makeup because she was meeting him? He hadn't noticed either way on that morning he walked in on her kicking the punching bag's ass. But now he wished he had. Then he might know for sure.
God, not that she needs it.
He felt his heartbeat in places other than just his chest as he remembered the feral look in her eye as she went to town on that bag…the grunts she made as she pounded her fists into the leather. Her heaving chest beneath the sports bra.
Blinking quickly, he swiped his card to unlock the gym door and held it open for her. "I—" His voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. "I started a little area in the back where we…" She was walking in the opposite direction, passing the elliptical machine and the pull-up bars, towards the door at the back corner. "Uh…Sarah? I made an area over here I thought we'd use."
Sarah ignored him and pulled the door open, gesturing him inside. When he stepped in, the lights flickered on, as they were activated by motion sensors.
There were mirrors lining the walls and blue mats placed so that they covered most of the floor. "Wow, you did this?" he asked, turning to look at her.
"Mmm." She pulled her sneakers off as she answered distractedly. "Hope it's okay, but I figured not many of your employees would need the dance studio for awhile. If ever."
He watched her grab onto one of the ballet bars and place her foot on it. Even with the stretchy cloth covering them all the way to her ankle, her legs were freaking fantastic. And powerful. And…Hot damn, she's flexible. Her nose was pressed to her knee as she stretched and a rush of heat swept through him.
Wait…ballet bars?
"Are we doing ballet?" A spike of fear shot through him. Fighting he could do. Dancing? Maybe, depending on the steps. He could probably learn tango or the waltz if he had a good enough teacher. But Charles Bartowski wasn't exactly known for his gracefulness. Ballet? No.
Impress the beautiful ass-kicking agent with your pliés, Bartowski.
Sarah snorted and commenced stretching. "Do some stretching before we start. You'll pull something. I guarantee it. And no, we're not doing ballet."
"Oh. Ha. Right. That makes sense. Stretching." He decided to forego the bar, as he wasn't nearly as limber as she was. And he had long legs just like she did, but they didn't look as great in his gray drawstring pants.
She swung her foot down, lifting her other leg onto the bar, and Chuck sat on the floor, stretching with his back purposefully to her. "So did you ever do ballet?"
He saw in the mirror that she shook her head to herself with a small smile, wrapping her hands around her foot and leaning down so that her nose touched her knee again.
"What? It's a simple question," he said, looking at her over his shoulder.
Sarah eyed him for a moment, then continued stretching. "No. I never did ballet."
"Too intense for you?" He hummed the theme from Swan Lake cryptically.
She scoffed and put her leg back down, stretching her arms and ambling up to him. "You do realize I work for the foremost private detective agency in the world, right?"
In all honesty, he found himself skirting over that fact quite often where she was concerned. But he wouldn't admit that out loud, so he just nodded quickly. "Uh, right. That you do. Nothing more intense than that."
"Some things are," she replied with a cute shrug. "Okay, come on. Get up."
"What are you showing me, then? Muay Thai?" He began pulling his shirt off.
"That isn't my specialty and that's not the best thing to start with. Wh—What are you doing?" Her cheeks were tinged pink and she took a step forward, almost like it was in spite of herself. And her staggeringly unusual blue eyes pointed like daggers at his lower stomach. It sent a thrill through him.
"We're doing martial arts stuff!" he explained, stalling in his movements so that his shirt was tugged up around his shoulders, showcasing a little more of his chest. He watched her swallow quickly, her eyes still sliding up and down his body.
"Chuck, you're not Bruce Lee. Put your shirt back on."
"W—Oh." He felt himself flush and smoothed his shirt back down his front. As embarrassing as his faux pas was, he hadn't missed the effect it had on Sarah. Even now, she was rubbing a finger over an eyebrow and pointedly looking at her cute bare feet. "Sorry."
The look she gave him was a little dubious, quietly questioning how sorry he really was. And he suddenly felt a little warm in the usually frigid dance studio.
Peeling her gaze from his, she walked out into the center of the room with a smirk and turned to wave him closer.
He felt nerves twist in his stomach but instead of letting it show, he smiled a little and kicked his shoes and socks off, padding with bare feet out onto the mat. The smile would effectively mask his nerves. He was sure.
"Don't be nervous, Chuck."
Wow, you're a regular Daniel Day-Lewis, Bartowski.
"I've just…This is new for me. Ya know? I never took karate like the other kids. Or played sports, really. I read and played video games and had a hard time killing the spiders that snuck into my house." She just lifted an eyebrow in question. "I would pick 'em up and put 'em outside. So…yeah. My parents didn't think karate was a good idea."
"That's pretty cute," she said in a quiet voice, her gaze soft and highly amused.
He felt himself blush. "Yeah, well."
"Hey, let me remind you that you're the one who wanted to do this."
"I know! I know. I still do."
"Just do what I say and don't worry about looking ridiculous, okay?"
"Right. Wh—Hey. Who says I'm gonna look ridiculous?" History, he answered abnormally gawky stature you were born with, he added. You're a nerd.
"Chuck, I am not implying that you'll look ridiculous," she said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling with a grin. "But people learning things like this for the first time are always a little unsure of themselves. I'm just giving you advice. I'm your teacher. That's what I do."
"That makes sense. Although I wouldn't blame you if you thought I—" His voice drifted off and he gestured to his figure. "I'm kind of tall and, oh…ungainly. As it were."
Suddenly, she was much much closer, and her hands were purposefully feeling up his biceps, squeezing his muscles. He inadvertently flexed and felt stupid for it, but she didn't seem to mind or even notice as she looked seriously into his face. There was no flirtation or playfulness there. Just a deep blue gaze and God, she had such soft hands. But they were so strong, too.
"You are definitely not a weakling, Chuck. You're strong. And I've seen you display great amounts of focus at the office." Her hands slid down his arms, her fingers grazing over the backs of his hands, around to his palms for just a moment, and then she wasn't touching him anymore. "So I'm going to teach you some aikido."
"That sounds awesome!" he exclaimed softly, still feeling the ghost of her touch on his arms. He took in the slightly amused but mostly impatient look she threw him and he held his hands up in defense. "Right, sorry. I'm listening. Focusing."
"Good. Aikido is a specific martial art that ensures your safety, while also protecting the person who is attacking you."
"Why would I wanna do that?"
"What?"
"If I'm being attacked by a bad guy, wouldn't I wanna knock 'em out? You know, punch 'em in the face or something?"
She shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The storminess that was in her pretty blue eyes before she shut them was gone when she opened them back up again. "Says the guy who refuses to kill spiders. Chuck. For now, I'm focusing on teaching you the basics of aikido because it's the best form of defense. And I know it better than anything else."
He nodded. "Sorry. Okay. I used to get in trouble a lot in class because I asked a lot of questions."
"You can ask questions, Chuck. I prefer you ask questions. But try to just work with me here for a little while, okay?"
"Got it." He gave her a closed-mouth smile and put his hands on his hips, waiting for her to continue.
"Now, aikido is especially handy if you're a woman because it requires less physical strength and instead relies on quick movements, using your opponent's momentum…Basically turning their attack against them. It's about balance, stance, and speed. And the ability to read your opponent's movements."
Chuck nodded and held up a finger. "So, uh, it's like redirecting their attack instead of meeting it head on like you would in other disciplines."
Her eyes lit up. "Exactly, Chuck."
Warmth spread through his body in the form of pride as he saw her eyes slide up his body and to his face, seemingly impressed by him. He unconsciously stood a little taller. "I get it. That's pretty cool."
"It is pretty cool. Okay. So I'll show you. And don't worry. I won't hurt you." She took a few steps back and bent her knees a little, spreading her legs a few feet apart.
"Uh…Just come at you?"
"Yeah. Come at me and try to hit me." Chuck swallowed, not quite liking the sound of trying to hit Sarah Walker. But he was confident that no matter where he tried to hit her, she'd make sure he was unsuccessful. The woman was a ninja, he was certain. A beautiful, flawless ninja with eyes like Mother Nature and a smile that sometimes made him incandescently happy, and other times made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her. Hard.
Shaking his head and forcing himself to focus, he ran at her, swinging his fist forward.
Her movements were so rapid, he barely saw what happened. One moment, she was focused on him, unmoving, and the next he felt her hand on his wrist, she ducked under his arm, turned so that her back was against his chest, and the world swung past his vision until he felt his back slam into the mat.
He blinked at the ceiling for a moment, the parts of him that she'd touched tingling still. Her face moved into view and she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You okay?"
"Yeah. That was…I didn't see that coming."
"That's the point."
He sat up, his face only a few inches from hers. She didn't shrink back at the closeness. "You're gonna teach me that?"
"Mhm."
He scrambled up to his feet and turned to face her, watching as she stood and put her hands on her hips. "I'm ready to learn, Sensei Sarah."
This caused her to giggle a little and he stopped to listen because it was the nicest thing he'd ever heard. "Don't call me Sensei. I haven't earned that title. Just…stick to Sarah. Please."
"Right. Got it. Teach me the flippy."
"It's not a flippy." She got into position again. "Okay, come at me slower and grab me."
"Are you asking for slow motion Chuck?"
"Uh, sure."
"Right." He walked towards her in slow motion and swung his hand around towards her shoulder like he had before, making to curl his fingers around her shoulder. She repeated the first action before he could touch her, latching onto his wrist.
"Okay, stop here. See how I grabbed your wrist?"
"Mhm."
"And then I step into your body…" She turned and her back was flush against his chest again. Now that they were moving a lot slower, it was all the more evident just how close she was standing, and how she smelled—like some unknown flower that was subtle and warm and reminded him of summer—and the tiny pale scar at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. "The trick," she interrupted his reverie so suddenly that he almost jumped, "is that I'm using your momentum. I know your fist is coming at me on my left, so most of your momentum will be right here." She held her fist up. "Now that I know this, I bend a little lower."
He swallowed as she crouched a little, her behind dangerously close to making contact with his groin. He ached to touch her, to push himself a little further into her, feel her flush against him.
"And I throw you in the direction your momentum was taking you." She used the hand on his wrist to tug so that he ended up with some of his weight against her back. The movement made him a little nervous, so he grabbed at her waist, his nose and lips against her ear and hair for a moment. But when he thought he was going to end up with his back to the mat again, she set him back and stood, moving away and facing him, her chest heaving a little as she licked her lips and met his gaze. "Did you get that?"
She quickly reached up to feel her ear he'd had his lips against and turned it into tucking her hair away from her face. He watched closely and felt tingles in his body. "Y-Yeah. Wrist, turn under the attacker's arm, use the momentum to throw them in the direction it was taking them. The momentum, that is."
"Right. Exactly! The main thing is to take advantage of your opponent's momentum and lack of control." She got into position, her blue eyes serious. And maybe he was fooling himself, but he didn't think he was…Her gaze was a little heated, her cheeks flushed. It couldn't be from exertion because they hadn't done much. All he knew was that whatever he was feeling at that moment, she was probably feeling it too. Instead of batting it away like he normally would have done, he was reminded of the office party, when she had almost kissed him. The way her soft lips had felt on his skin when he was bumped into and her kiss had been misdirected. The look in her eyes that wasn't merely flirtation, but something else.
Something deeper and more passionate than just that.
He moved towards her quickly, attempting to throw her off by coming at her other side, but she wasn't fooled at all, and her warm fingers clamped down on his forearm. Their bodies pressed together for a glorious moment and the fingers of his other hand grazed her hip bone. Chuck retained his focus, nevertheless, feeling his attack redirected as he slammed into the ground again. He climbed back to his feet, meeting her heated gaze, and came at her again without waiting to catch his breath.
He did it over and over and over, each time doing his best to really feel her against him, especially for that moment they were touching. Chuck knew she was doing the same. He saw it in her face. She was focused though, as he was. Serious about her movements. But she wasn't shying away from enjoying it, just like he wasn't. He was sure of it because she didn't seem to want to bother hiding it from him.
It was incredibly and mind-blowingly sexy.
They practiced for almost half an hour, Sarah showing him moves in slow motion, sometimes demonstrating by throwing him to the mat. Strangely enough, none of it hurt. The suddenness of the moves she demonstrated was what really got to him, and it left him stunned for a few seconds afterwards.
He had to admit, while he had been excited to learn how to knock a guy's lights out, this was way more exciting. Aikido was way more awesome than that. And safer, as Sarah had pointed out numerous times during the lesson. And it meant they were touching each other. A lot. And God, but he swore they were both enjoying it. Despite the lack of flirtation in it. It was something better, something more serious than mere flirtation.
It was pure and unadulterated heat.
"Okay." She brought her hands together, her eyes focused and piercing. And, he couldn't help but noticed, satisfied. Or pleased. Or both.
"Are we done already?" he asked, trying not to show how much she had him panting. And not just from the exertion of the aikido. They couldn't be done. He didn't want to be done.
"No, you're gonna put your lessons to use now. Throw me."
Why did that sound so hot? Oh yeah. Because for the last half hour, they'd been grabbing each other, pinning each other, touching and grasping. And Sarah hadn't shown even a moment's restraint, not even a bit of shying away—the way she'd run away after she almost kissed him at the party.
It was confusing, but he pushed that to the side. This was good. He was going to embrace this. Go with it. And hope she did the same.
"Which one do I do?"
She smirked a bit mischievously and shrugged one shoulder. "Improvise."
"What? Already improvising? What is this, the advanced course?"
"When you learn aikido from Sarah Walker, there's no such thing as a beginner's course. Now come on. Get in stance."
He felt embarrassed as he spread his legs apart and bent his knees. Chuck knew he had to look awkward with his long limbs and what his mother always called his "sticky legs". With a blush, he tentatively looked up at her.
She smiled patiently and walked up to him. "Here, let's see what I can do about this."
Her hand was suddenly on the small of his back, her front pressed close to his side and her lips near his ear. "May I?" she asked, her breath fanning a curl at his temple.
He swallowed.
Yes, please.
"Uh, yeah! Of course. Yeah." He swallowed again and she nodded, stepping even closer so that her very strength and intelligence and grace and steadiness were practically surrounding him. Her warm hand had somehow made his shirt ride up and her fingers were touching the sliver of skin revealed. A shiver wracked through his body as the hand slid up his back along his spine. He automatically straightened his back.
"There. Straight back."
Then she had her other hand on his thigh, speaking to him in soft, relaxing tones, her fingers squeezing him as she moved his leg a little. Then she rounded to his other side and did the same.
She was driving him crazy. And he could see in her that her purposeful movements were affecting her in the exact same way. It was a little comforting, not being alone in the situation. Knowing she was being pulled into the heat storm along with him.
But it was also a little frightening. Because at some point, everything would snap or explode or implode and he was afraid to think about what would happen then. He couldn't think of it now and lose focus. He had to make good on this aikido training. He promised himself he would, especially when Sarah agreed against her better judgment to teach him.
He owed her that.
"Like this?" he asked, turning to look at her. With him in the stance, their faces were perfectly aligned as she nodded.
"That's it."
When she stepped away, he was both disappointed and incredibly relieved.
"Come at me, brah," he teased, raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips.
"Serious, Chuck. Keep your head clear."
"Sorry," he mumbled, properly admonished. He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and opened them again. "Ready."
She didn't give him much warning as she leapt at him. It wasn't exactly second nature, but he didn't have to think too hard to notice which direction her momentum was taking her. He had her waist in his right hand, her right wrist in his left hand, before he twisted, going to a knee and swinging her over his back.
Sarah flipped expertly and landed on her back with a grunt. He wasted no time climbing over her and gently resting his knee on her sternum. She beamed widely, a little out of breath, gently laying her hand on his leg and squeezing in congratulations. "That was great! Not perfect, but really good, Chuck."
"Thanks," he breathed, lifting his knee and reaching down to help her up.
She took his hand with a grateful smile.
Suddenly her foot was on his chest and she gave his arm a hard yank, flipping him over so that he fell onto his back with a loud thump. He rolled onto his stomach but before he could even think, he felt her weight on his torso and his arm was pinned behind his back a bit uncomfortably.
"Ah, ah…okay. Uncle!"
"We're not on the middle school playground, Chuck."
"What?!" He looked at her over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Your middle school had a playground?!"
She ignored him. "You have to be on your guard. If you let your guard down for even a moment, they get the upper hand. They get the upper hand, you could get hurt." She let his arm go and he winced, stretching it out a little at his side.
"Right. Was that an aikido move? That flip you just did?"
Her weight shifted and suddenly he felt a lot of her body against his and he felt her breath against his ear. "No. It wasn't aikido. Good old-fashioned freestyle," she said softly. Holy Jesus, her hands were on him. He could feel them burning through his flimsy cotton T-shirt. She was so strong. And so exciting. And he wanted to learn aikido. But then he wanted to learn her. All of her. Forever.
Her warmth left him as she rolled onto the mat and climbed to her feet. She reached her hands down for him to grab and pulled him to his feet when he complied.
He flipped her a dozen different times after that, and every time she landed safely and softly, correcting him here and there, but mostly having nothing but words of encouragement and a bit of pride he was happy to note. The heat never left them. It was a silent agreement almost, a bit of competition and tension, and there was no other way to put it—a lot of lust. A deep thread of need. Of sex. And a warmth mingling with it all that couldn't be denied.
"Okay. Good. Now…" She walked around him and went to the corner where a wooden staff awaited. "Usually this is taught with a wooden rifle, but a staff works just as well for what we're doing."
She picked it up and spun it to wedge under her arm. Chuck couldn't help but be impressed, just by the way she seemed to make every movement look easy, when he knew for a fact that it was incredibly difficult. His limbs ached from using muscles he hadn't used before. But he was on fire. Pumped. Ready to impress her again. Impress himself, even.
Suddenly the staff was flying towards him and his reflexes saved him from having it smack long-ways into his chest.
"Good catch," she said, her lips tilting up in a small smirk. He matched that smirk and moved the staff to his right hand, clutching it tightly. She moved close again and put her hands over his, repositioning his grip so that the staff was pointed in front of him and he held it like a rifle. "Good. Like this. Just run straight at me like you're going to jab me in the stomach."
She must have caught the momentary panic in his face because she smiled. "I'll be fine. Trust me."
With a single nod, he waited for her to get into position and zoomed forward. She clamped a hand down on the staff and he felt her other hand push against his shoulder. It was so quick and powerful that he tripped on his own feet and slammed back first onto the mat.
He stared up at her with wide eyes and then clambered to his feet quickly. Then he held out his hand for the staff and she smiled a little and gave it back.
He went back into position and came at her from the left, the right, above, below. With quick movements, using his attack against him, she disarmed him and had him on his back each time. Staff training ended up being disappointingly lacking in touching each other except for a hand to a shoulder or hip here and there, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. Watching her quick movements, the strength of her muscles as she threw him. Studying her. Learning from her.
After a few minutes, she took the staff from him and ran at him to attack. It was sudden, unexpected, and he wasn't ready. She hadn't even done a slow motion demonstration for him yet. But he reacted as well as he could, grabbing the staff with both hands and catching her with his shoulder so that she let go of the weapon as he yanked it upwards. His movement had so much power in it that the wood slapped him painfully on the cheek.
Chuck staggered backwards with a yelp, but kept his feet, his cheek stinging like a bitch.
Sarah was at his side immediately, grabbing the staff and tossing it away, probably to prevent him from harming himself again, he thought moodily. But then her cool hand was on his cheek and her body was so close to his. He couldn't help but let his hands rest on her hips.
Her concerned features were almost too much for him to take.
"Are you okay? That was a wicked whip you gave yourself there."
"No, I'm—Just my pride," he breathed. He wanted to sink to the floor in embarrassment. But she had a hand on his waist, supporting him, while the thumb of her other hand gently stroked his injured cheek. Magically, he felt that instead of the sting that had been there moments before and he unconsciously stepped closer.
Suddenly he realized he was raising his hand up to her face and as gently as he could, he brushed back a lock of hair that had escaped her braid, his fingers lightly stroking the curve of her ear.
And then they were even closer and his heart was beating madly in his chest. And the warmth of her was intoxicating, the light sheen of sweat on her collar bone, her parted lips and stormy gaze. And all he could think about was how strong and beautiful she was. And how she hadn't wanted to teach him to defend himself. She'd been adamant. But she came down here at some point last night and lined the dance studio with mats, and shook him out of a deep sleep early this morning.
Even though she hadn't wanted to do this, she had dragged him here like a mother drags a petulant kid to his first day of school.
And then they'd spent the last hour clashing, hands grasping at each other, bodies grinding together, pinning each other to the mat, skin grazing, exchanging heated looks. Lusting after each other, even while they were focusing on the lessons, using that incomprehensibly delicious power to up the ante of the competition between them.
It was quite possibly the best hour of his life, and everything was on fire. Inside him. Around him. Fire everywhere. Heat everywhere.
Everything she'd done for him since she first walked into the office after he'd called Pinkerton and asked for their best flashed before his eyes. God, she had to be their best. No one else was better. It was impossible.
She was everything.
And for a moment, she was his.
He leaned his face close so that their noses brushed and everything inside of him burned to pull her against him. He felt her elbow in his hand, her soft cheek against his fingers, her breath on his lips. He felt them both quite nearly vibrating, and he tugged her into him, causing her to elicit a short gasp as their fronts made contact. And he dove in for a kiss.
A loud rumble sounded beneath them and Sarah jolted in surprise. Chuck's eyes slipped shut and he blushed deeply, his lips mere centimeters from hers. He hung his head and slapped his hand over his stomach.
"Um…" he heard Sarah mumble.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
"See? Breakfast. It's important," he tried lamely.
She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear and stepping back a safe distance. Her blue eyes were unfocused, her pretty features a little guarded, but not completely. So he took that as a good sign, as miserable as he felt at the moment. "That's probably good enough for today." His heart fell to his feet. "And your cheek already looks fine."
Probably because he was blushing so hard it masked the welt that was liable to spring up where he'd hit himself, Chuck thought glumly.
"Great. Yeah. I think I'll call Pete and have him bring food on his way to the office. You want anything?"
"Just a coffee. If he's already getting something."
Chuck nodded and took a step back, his foot landing on the edge of the mat. It was only two inches from the wooden floor, but it was enough when his foot slipped and he wasn't expecting it. He staggered a little and Sarah took a protective step forward, but he was fine, albeit incredibly embarrassed again.
"I'm gonna call Pete and hop in the shower," he tried to say without stuttering. He accomplished at least that much today.
"You did good today, Chuck."
He stopped and turned towards her, his gym bag and sneakers in hand. "I did?"
"You're a really good student," she nodded.
A slow smile bloomed on his face and he was filled with all sorts of feelings he didn't have the energy or need to define. All he knew was that they'd almost kissed. And while the moment was over, he felt the existence of a promise.
Because Sarah wasn't running. She was standing steadily in place, still so beautiful, her gaze meeting his steadily. They were on the same page. He knew it. And he was incomprehensibly thrilled. "Well, you're a pretty good teacher."
She smiled back and he left the "dojo", hoping she'd leave it the way it was so that they could come back again. Maybe tomorrow.
And he'd be sure to have his breakfast first.