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: This chapter is the perfect example of why playing in this AU is so much fun. I think my favorite part is dettiot's wonderfully apt handling of Chuck especially. The way he thinks, what he says, how he handles the situation-it's just so Chuck. And that's hard to do in an AU, when Chuck and Sarah are coming from such different places than in canon. Enjoy "Up on the Roof"! And I hope you get the song stuck in your head, too. Moo ha ha.

XOXOXOXO

Even before someone had tried to blow Chuck up with a cell phone, Sarah had made a point of picking him up at his apartment and driving him to and from work on random days. Chuck hadn't complained about having a beautiful woman drive him in the Porsche that she handled like a race car driver.

Yet over the last few weeks … the time they spent together had more meaning. Ever since the one-two punch of the beach party and the aikido lesson, ever since each of them had attempted to initiate a kiss only to be interrupted, it was like the air between them was charged. Crackling with electricity, a spark that kept searching for an outlet.

Somehow, they had both managed to keep the spark tamped down below critical mass. Chuck was frankly shocked that they hadn't just grabbed each other and made use of the nearest horizontal surface.

For a moment, his eyes glazed over, imagining what it would be like. To touch every inch of her golden skin, to see those stormy blue eyes look up at him and want him …

Chuck shook his head, banishing the images. This wasn't the time to be thinking about that. Not when they were so close to the end.

Just yesterday, Sarah had made some kind of breakthrough in the case. She had burst into his office, her face flushed and her eyes bright. She had been so pleased to have a potential evidence trail to Martin Rosebreen, a low-level computer maker that Chuck barely knew. Honestly, he hadn't suspected Rosebreen at all, but Sarah was convinced that he was the guy.

With evidence, she would be able to go to the police. Wrap up her investigation. Leave.

That is, if he couldn't find a way to keep her here. With him.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck looked over at Sarah. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as she turned into the parking structure under his building. Every night that she dropped him off, he invited her in. At first, it was about getting her to relax. To loosen up and have some downtime. Then it was because he wanted to spend time with her, wanted to get to know her.

Now … he needed to grasp whatever time he had left with her. Needed to learn more about her so he could make her see why she should give him a chance.

"Would you like to come in for a drink?" he asked quietly.

He could see her nibbling on her lower lip. She was hesitating, struggling with herself. And part of him wished he could just ask her what she was so scared of. Why she was fighting this magical, undeniable connection that existed between them. But the bigger part, the smarter part, knew that he couldn't do that. Couldn't attempt to pin her down like that, because it would mean she would send him flying through the air. And unlike in their aikido lessons, she wouldn't hold back. She'd push him away so hard that he'd feel something break when he landed.

The nod of her head was tiny. He did a double-take and felt his jaw drop open when she pulled into a parking spot and turned off her car. She looked at him for a moment, her chin lifted defiantly as if daring him to say anything. But her eyes were like oceans churning during a storm.

"Yes? Really?" He didn't wait for her to reply. "Great! Let's go inside. It's a beautiful night—we could sit up on the deck. Let's go."

He hopped out of the car quickly, cursing himself a little for being so giddy at the thought of Sarah wanting to spend time with him. Wishing he could be smoother, cooler at the prospect. But he couldn't.

She was spending the evening with him.

XXX

At first, she had been able to resist his invitations. Back when she first started this assignment and she still didn't know him that well, even with a full dossier on him. But the dossier was just facts on the page; the reality of Charles Bartowski was very different.

Every time she dropped him off at his condo, he had invited her in for a drink, for a snack, for dinner. "You're not a Pinkerton agent 24/7—you need time to relax," he would say.

And at first, she had turned him down. Given him a smile and then driven off, all the while thinking of how much more fun it would be to spend an evening with him. But then, a few days after the cell phone incident, she had given in. Before he even asked her in, she had turned to him and said, "Do you have wine?"

"Yes," he had replied immediately. "Come in and we'll order a pizza."

So ever since that first time, she let herself unwind in his company. Let herself become his friend and have his friendship in return. And although the nature of that friendship had changed under the surface, she couldn't seem to stop wanting to spend time with him. She didn't let herself agree to every invitation. But tonight … tonight there had been no answer but yes.

She nearly had Rosebreen. It would be the matter of a few days before she could go to the police and arrange for his arrest. And that would mean the end. Of walking into Bartowski Electronics and seeing Chuck. Of giving him more aikido lessons. Of quick lunches and long, leisurely evenings spent drinking together.

Of everything that made her feel truly alive.

Chuck Bartowski was addictive. His funny jokes that she didn't always understand, his wide smiles, his sweetness and his kindness. And when that was in a man who was absolutely gorgeous, who made her stomach flutter with butterflies … She didn't want this assignment to end, didn't want to find out what would happen when she didn't have a reason to see him. Yet she also wanted to catch Rosebreen and the men who had tried to blow him up. Make them rue the day they had heard the name "Charles Bartowski."

Sarah followed Chuck as they walked into his apartment. He was babbling, talking about enjoying the view on the rooftop deck and how long it had been since he had actually watch the sun sink below the horizon. She listened, nodding occasionally but too caught up in her thoughts to truly contribute.

He paused by the wine rack, falling silent as if sensing she wasn't really listening. Then, he reached out and lightly touched her shoulder, sending a spark through her and shaking her out of her daze. "Why don't you go up to the deck and I'll bring the wine?" His voice was gentle, soft. Like he was handling her with kid gloves.

And normally she hated being handled. But with Chuck, it wasn't about exerting his dominance or power over her. It was about taking care of her.

Gazing at him, she nodded and turned towards the stairs. There was a small balcony off Chuck's bedroom, with a spiral staircase that led to the rooftop deck.

When she stepped onto the deck, Sarah took a deep breath. It was a gorgeous evening. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky turning a pinky-orange. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the view was breathtaking.

She could feel the muscles in her shoulders and back slowly unclench. This was what she needed after today, after this week. She needed this place that felt out of time, away from all the emotions that were clouding her mind and making her think too hard about things she didn't want to be thinking about. Like endings.

XXX

By the time Chuck stepped out onto the deck, carrying a bottle of red wine under his arm and a plate and two glasses in his hands, he had managed to calm down. To remember that until the assignment was over, Sarah was technically working for his father and it wouldn't be appropriate for anything to happen between them. For now, they had to be friends, albeit ones with a simmering sexual tension.

When he saw her stretched out on one of the chaise longues, he had a flash of Oh my God she's so hot and beautiful and amazing, but it was quickly followed by seeing the things she kept hidden from everyone else. Like how limply her head rested against the chaise, how pale her skin looked in the rays of the setting sun. She was tired and needed a break.

And he was going to give her one. He was going to give her whatever she needed.

She opened her eyes and gave him a slightly weaker version of her devastating smile. "That's what I love to see: a man walking towards me with a bottle of wine."

Chuck smiled back, feeling on terra firma. They could handle flirting. It was fun, ever since the first time it had happened. Because they both gave as good as they got—although he knew he showed it more than she did when something affected him.

"Is it me or the wine?" he asked, grinning at her as he set down the glasses. "I figured, might as well bring a bottle. And with wine goes cheese and crackers."

"Fancy," Sarah said, reaching to pick up one of the brie-smeared crackers, nibbling as he uncorked the bottle and poured them the wine.

"My mother would be so thrilled those etiquette classes finally took."

"Oh, they did," Sarah agreed with a smile, taking the glass that he handed her and sipping it slowly. "Mmmmm."

He ducked his head for a moment, her little purr of pleasure going straight through him. Then he straightened and gave her his best slow, cocky smile. "Picked out this vintage myself," he said, settling into the chaise next to hers. "I have six more bottles downstairs when we finish off this one."

"Seven bottles in one night?" Sarah arched her eyebrow, a move that never failed to make him lose his train of thought for a moment. "That just might be enough to get both of us drunk."

"Probably," he agreed, sipping his wine and stretching his legs out in front of him.

For the next few moments, there was just the sound of sips and crunches. Sarah gazed off at the view while Chuck tried to focus on the wine in his glass instead of staring at the woman sitting next to him.

When she spoke, her words were soft, but Chuck immediately turned his head to look at her.

"Do you ever wonder what if, Chuck?"

Her quiet question made him feel incredibly nervous. Because this soft, uncertain Sarah brought out instincts in him that he wasn't sure he should be showing towards her. "Of course I do," Chuck said, looking down at his glass as he swirled his wine. "Everyone does. Like what if George Lucas hadn't changed Star Wars to make Greedo shoot."

"I was thinking something more personal," she said, turning to look at him. And her eyes made him realize the danger of this moment. How he could get swept up in it—in her—and do something that could completely backfire.

Chuck stood and walked to the edge of the deck. With his back to her, he could regroup. Could remind himself that they were friends. Even if she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the kind of woman he could see himself with forever. He sucked in a breath.

"Like what?" he asked, hearing how his voice trembled slightly.

When Sarah didn't reply, he turned around to look at her. The setting sun was behind him, throwing shafts of pink and orange and yellow light over her face. And it was like a punch in the gut, to look at her and know that as beautiful as she was, he cared about more than her looks.

She took a large swallow of wine, then opened her mouth. But the words must have died on her lips, because she closed her mouth and shifted on her chaise.

The air was thick with unsaid words. Slowly, Chuck walked back over towards her. He picked up the bottle and topped off his glass, then held the bottle out towards her. "More wine?"

When she nodded, he refilled her glass. "If I can make a suggestion," he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "Let's just … enjoy tonight."

She took a small sip. "And … and how should we enjoy ourselves?" she asked, her voice a little hesitant. As if she was unsure about what he might say.

"We've got wine. We've got a sunset. I think we've got all we need," he said, giving her a soft smile. Trying to sound reassuring and friendly, trying to make things comfortable between them again.

After a moment, she returned the smile. "You're disappointing all my long-held fantasies about how the other half lives," she said lightly. Falling back into their normal banter, with the snap and crackle of sexual tension more muted. Yet just because the heat was dampened didn't mean that this was like their normal give-and-take. No, this felt different. More … intimate.

He laughed softly. "No wild parties, no movie star liaisons, nothing like that?"

"Yes, nothing," she said primly, looking at him over the rim of her glass.

"I'm just the humble vice-president of a little electronics company," Chuck said, crunching on a cracker. "I'm not one to turn the girls' heads. And wild parties are great—at someone else's house."

Sarah snickered, a sound that was delightfully goofy and something he had never heard before. "Good point."

Chuck looked over at her and smiled lazily. "There was this one time growing up, my best friend Morgan and me decided we were going to start our own business. A party business, for our friends. We'd rent some warehouse and get a bunch of kegs. I'd DJ and we'd get people to pay ten bucks at the door to get in."

"Let's see, that's underage drinking, zoning law violations, definitely some noise complaints …" Sarah enumerated. She grinned at him. "How long did this business last?"

"Three parties," Chuck said with a grin. "Then we got busted."

"So tell me more about all these youthful hijinks," Sarah said, turning on the chaise to face him.

He smiled and started talking. As the sun drifted lower on the horizon, Sarah listened and drank wine while he told her stories. When the light grew dim, Chuck lit the lanterns on the table between them, casting soft light over their faces. They finished off the bottle but Chuck didn't feel the need to get another one. Tonight wasn't about getting drunk. It was about finding that place where, in the twilight and with a bit of a buzz, you felt safe. At peace.

But he knew the wine and the darkness didn't give him peace.

Sarah did.

End.