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 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: We don't own Chuck or The Thin Man series. And we're making no monetary profit from this story.
Author's Note: That was quick, huh? I really just want to get as much of what's already been written in the DATG AU out as fast as I can so that I can catch up to where I'm writing now. That way I can post on tumblr and here at the same time. It's going to be rad. I promise. This chapter was written by me, Steampunk . Chuckster! - SC
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Chuck's fingers drummed on his knee idly as he hid his phone under the conference table and pulled up the flight confirmation in his email. He stared at the one-way ticket to Chicago and a smile tugged at his lips. At the end of that flight, he would have Sarah Walker in his arms again. After six whole weeks of phone calls and texts and the rare but cherished Skype sessions, they would finally be in the same place at the same time.
He could barely stand the fact that there were five whole days between this moment and the moment he knocked on her apartment door.
She had laughed when he told her he only bought a one-way ticket, and then she'd teased him that she hoped he didn't think he was moving in or something.
But it was nice not being held to a time table for once. He would buy a ticket home when he needed to. Or when Sarah kicked him out. He knew she would be busy with paperwork, but the thought of going to bed together and waking up the next morning without thousands of miles between them was just too damn good.
When Sarah asked if he would visit her in Chicago during their last Skype session, she'd gone on and on about how much he would like Chicago, but it wasn't necessary; Chuck had already began combing through his schedule to see if he could finagle a week or two off the moment she mentioned it.
He realized belatedly that the meeting was over and the people around him were standing up and stretching, gathering their folders and moving out of the room. He stashed his phone quickly and did the same, meeting his father's wry smirk. "What?"
"Nothing. You just seem distracted."
"Not any more than usual," Chuck chirped before grinning and sweeping out of the room.
After he made his way back down the hall and left a few quick notes with his assistant, Chuck barricaded himself in his office and sank into his chair, shutting his eyes and smiling. Just yesterday afternoon, he'd snuck down to the garage to talk to Sarah, to hear her voice as she advised him on what to bring. And the sound of her laughter when he asked if he should buy a snow jacket.
Chuck was pulled out of his thoughts by the soft buzzing of his phone in his pocket. His brow furrowed in curiosity, he reached in and retrieved it, glancing at the screen. The slight frown on his face became an explosive grin as he answered.
"Charles Irving Bartowski, Tech Guy Extraordinaire and King of the Nerds." He swiveled his chair in a circle, his grin not going away any time soon.
"You seem like you're in a good mood," she said quietly. Her voice crackled with amusement, but there was something underneath it that gave him a bit of pause.
"I was just looking at my confirmation email for Friday morning. Bright and early. Off to the City of the Big Shoulders."
"Big shoulders?"
"You live in Chicago, Sarah. Have you never read Carl Sandburg's poetry?" She murmured a soft no. "Well, I'll just have to bring my copy with me on Friday, then."
She was quiet for a moment, and his grin dimmed as concern pricked at him and deflated his excitement a little. "…Chuck?"
"Yeah?"
"I got a new case. And I'm leaving tomorrow for Norway. Oslo. To be exact."
There was nothing but silence between them for a few seconds as Chuck sat up a bit straighter. He felt an actual ache in his chest, because he knew exactly what that meant. But he had to ask anyways, just in case. "So…I should cancel my flight then, huh?"
She sighed heavily. "Yeah. I guess. I'm so sorry, Chuck. You have no idea how badly I want to see you without having to use a laptop."
He could hear her disappointment radiating from her voice, and could almost feel how upset she was through the phone. Or maybe he was just projecting. Because it was starting to dawn on him that he wasn't going to see Sarah Walker in five days after all. In fact, he wasn't sure when he would see her, considering she was going to be leaving the freaking continent the next day.
"No, no," he said, trying his best to sound understanding. "Baby, listen. You can't control when a client contacts the agency. I know that. And I bet it's a really important case that your superiors wouldn't trust to anyone less brilliant than Detective Sarah Walker. You're a bad ass and the best." When she didn't say something right away, he continued quickly, affecting a bit of goofiness into his voice. "Not that you can tell me anything about the case because that's breaking, like, one hundred different protocols. But does it still count if I guess? Oslo. Hmm. Somebody stole a Viking treasure ship from the museum and you have to get it back! That's it, isn't it?"
She let out a soft giggle and he could just see her shaking her head at him and smiling. God, how he wished he could see that smile in person. He scooted close to his desk and dropped his forehead onto it with a thunk, shutting his eyes.
"You're a weirdo," she said, seeming not to even attempt to disguise the affection in her tone.
"A sexy weirdo," he teased, hitting his head against the desk one more time with another thunk.
"What's that sound?"
"Huh? Oh. Nothing."
"Oh." There was silence again. "Chuck, I'm so sorry. I mean, it's the nature of the job."
"It's okay," he rushed, eager to reassure her as he lifted his head. He knew it wasn't her fault. Her job was important. And she couldn't exactly refuse a case that had been given to her. What could she say even if she wanted to refuse it? Sorry. My secret boyfriend that you aren't supposed to know about is visiting. "Hey, what about this? I'll come see ya when this case is over and you can tell me all about Oslo. I hear it's really gorgeous. Lots of history. I've never been to that part of the world."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm." There was silence again and he felt his disappointment dragging him down as she sighed once more. "Just focus on your case, huh? And, if it's allowed…I don't know if it's allowed, but…I don't know, maybe you could text me the address of the place where you'll be staying in Oslo? I don't want you to think I'm checking up on you or like…I don't know, being dad-ish or something. I know you can take care of yourself," he hurried. "I just…in case I want to get in touch with you for some reason—"
"Chuck," she interrupted. "I have it right here. I'll text all of it to you."
"Oh. Okay." He sucked air in through his teeth. "Good. Cool. Well…I gotta go cancel my flight."
"I miss you." God, that felt so good. It was like a balm on the disappointment coursing through him, hearing her say that. Knowing she would never say that if she didn't mean it.
"I miss you, too. A lot."
"Talk to you soon?"
"Call me when you get there? I mean, when you've got time, of course. Just so I know you got there okay."
She let out a soft, one syllable chuckle. "You know I will."
They said their goodbyes and Chuck hung up the phone, slumping against his desk and groaning. He wasn't up to canceling his flight just yet, so instead he just sat there, struggling not to let the crushing disappointment overtake him.
More than six whole weeks since Paris happened. Since he'd held Sarah Walker, seen her smile at him in person, felt her flawless skin beneath his hands. And now he was afraid it would be another six whole weeks on top of that before he saw her again. Or what if she got another case like the one that brought her into his life, one that would last months? Could he handle an extra one hundred days away from her?
Chuck wasn't sure.
But they'd made an agreement on the floor of his hotel room, surrounded by the damaged furniture and torn curtains that their passion had wreaked. They'd decided over a delicious breakfast to do whatever it took to make this work. And he had no illusions about what that meant, even then. It would be difficult.
And God, this was difficult. So difficult.
But she was so absolutely and completely worth it. Sarah Walker was worth anything.
Then the doubt started to niggle at him. What if being away from him changed things for her? What if enough time passed between them seeing each other in person in which Sarah decided it wasn't worth it? That he wasn't worth it?
Like knowing a language and neglecting it for so long that you begin to unlearn it.
What if Sarah began to unlearn him?
On his side, he knew Sarah was it. Whether he had to wait another month or two to see her again or even years—which was maybe being a little melodramatic—there was no way things would change for him. The way he felt about her. Needed her.
When the stress of his thoughts began to weigh down on him, Chuck grabbed his keys from his desk and swept his briefcase from the chair in the corner. Maybe a jog would clear his mind, or at least give him something to focus on, an outlet to waste some energy before he had to tackle the depressing task of canceling his one-way flight to Chicago.
—-
"She must be something special." Chuck looked up from the display case and met the pretty brunette's gaze for a moment. "I mean, for you to go to…how many different stores did you say you'd been to?"
"I've been to four," Chuck replied. "Well, this is my fourth. And yeah, she is special."
"Well, you don't buy Tiffany's for just anyone." She smiled warmly at him and he smiled back.
"So they say. I just…" He sighed. He'd been all over the Greater Los Angeles area, from Glendale to Pasadena, to Rodeo Drive, and finally Beverly Hills. Not one Tiffany's and Co. store had a piece of jewelry that jumped out at him. He'd looked at everything outside of a ring, considering the terrifying implications of buying one of those for a girl.
"Nothing?"
"Not a thing." He ran a hand through his hair and pouted a little at the pretty jewelry in the case, none of which he thought Sarah would care for. The gem was too gigantic, the chain too gaudy, the earrings too dangly…She didn't seem like much of a gold person, although he was only making assumptions. And her jewelry that she wore when they spent time together during the Bartowski case had always been simple and understated. He remembered a pretty brass locket that didn't have any pictures in it. He'd asked. And then a silver bracelet. Rings with simplistic, but elegant patterns.
The bangles weren't her style either.
Nor were pearls.
"Describe her."
Chuck raised an eyebrow dubiously. "Describe her?"
"Mm. You tell me details about her, I find you the perfect piece. They pay me for this sort of thing, you know."
He couldn't tell if the woman was flirting, but he decided to ignore it and shrugged at her suggestion. "Uh, physical details?"
"Physical and personality."
"Ah. Erm…she's blond, blue eyes that have flecks of all sorts of other colors depending on her mood and the way the light hits them. She's almost five foot ten. Slim. Athletic."
"You dating a supermodel?"
"Even better." The woman pressed her lips together, amused. "She's smart, has a good sense of humor, though she doesn't realize it. Loyal. Super cool."
"Okay, okay. Before you keep describing the perfect woman, let me ask you something. Have you ever seen her wear jewelry?"
Chuck nodded and turned his head to scratch his eyebrow, when his gaze fastened on a necklace in the display case carved into the back wall. It was alone in the glass case, draped over a turquoise, felt stand. And it was jaw-droppingly stunning.
"I'm not much of a jeweler, miss, but I think that's it. That's the one."
She turned her head and then nodded once. "Let's go take a closer look, then, shall we?"
A few moments later, Chuck held the necklace in his hand, studying the thin sterling silver chain, letting it run through his fingers. It was so weightless, but it also looked indestructible. Three round diamonds were set equidistant apart along the chain, and as he tilted his hands, the light seemed to dance in the gems. He could imagine it resting on the flawless skin of Sarah's neck, draped over her collar bone. It was simple. Elegant. Light.
It was perfect.
"Can I buy this?"
The clerk folded her hands together and nodded with a smile. "Of course."
It took him another half hour, but he finished the transaction and wrote down the address of Sarah's hotel in Oslo, as well as her room number, filled out the forms for insurance, and paid.
He only wished he could be there when she opened the box and saw it inside.
As he climbed into his car and sat still for a few moments behind the wheel, Chuck mused on what this all meant. He'd just bought a piece of jewelry for a woman. And not just any piece of jewelry. A necklace from Tiffany and Co. Something he'd looked for in four different store locations.
True, that kind of money was easy to let go of for someone with his position in an affluent electronics company. But it wasn't the money that mattered in the first place.
For the past week and a half since Sarah left for Oslo for her new case, he had been trying to find a way to make up for the fact that they couldn't make Chicago work when they'd wanted to see each other. It hadn't been anyone's fault. And Chuck didn't bear Pinkerton or whatever Norwegian hired them any ill will. But he'd been so disappointed. And she had been as well. He wanted her to know how serious he was about what he'd said in Paris that morning. And her words still echoed in his head almost two months later. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this happen, Chuck Bartowski. To make our relationship work.
Well, so was he. And hopefully when she opened the box in Oslo in her hotel room a few days from now, she would understand what the gesture meant. She was important. In fact, she was the most important thing in his life. And while it might seem paltry to use an expensive piece of jewelry to tell her that, from over five thousand miles away it was all he could think to do.
Sarah was the most intelligent person he knew. She would figure it out. He was sure she wouldn't take his buying her an expensive piece of jewelry as anything other than what it was. He was in love with her. But he couldn't say it. Not yet.
He was afraid she would bolt if he did.
So the necklace would have to do for now.
—-
The entire day had been a bust.
Sarah took her key card out of her wallet and swiped it beside her hotel room door, hearing the beep and turning the handle to step inside. She growled tiredly in the pitch darkness, slapping at the wall for the light switch until her room was illuminated.
Her mood had gone down the tubes earlier on in the day and had stayed lodged there for the rest of the afternoon and into the night. And now that it was nearing one in the morning—
The detective stopped in her tracks, her mind going blank for a split second.
On the table behind the couch sat a lovely arrangement of gardenias. Only one person sent her gardenias. Only one person knew about her soft spot for them. She couldn't have stopped the grin from stretching across her face if she'd wanted to, because they were definitely from Chuck.
Her boyfriend.
She'd had such a shitty day, and suddenly none of it mattered. And she was so happy she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.
Sarah walked across the room to the flower arrangement and let out a soft giggle, gathering the flowers in her hands, smashing them together a bit, and taking a long sniff of the delicious fragrance.
She would by lying if she didn't admit that part of her was drowning in relief. Because after she called off their reunion for this case, part of Sarah thought Chuck might be upset with her. As though she was choosing her job over him. And that wasn't it at all. There weren't words in any language that would describe how debilitating her disappointment was when Graham called her into his office to assign her the case.
Because she missed him so badly it hurt. The tears burned in her eyes again as she rubbed the soft petals of the flowers Chuck had sent against her cheek.
She hadn't actually spoken to him in three days, and she hated how much it was affecting her. Granted, she hadn't let it disrupt the case she was working on, but when she came home every night in the last two weeks since she arrived in Oslo, and even before that, she ached to hear his voice. To hear him reassure her that they were okay. That this was going to work out.
Maybe it was being so far away from him that made it that much worse. Or maybe she was having doubts, minuscule doubts, almost nonexistent doubts, about whether or not this long distance relationship had what it took to—But no, she had promised herself she wouldn't think that way after she hung up with Chuck the afternoon before she left for Norway. He'd been so quick to understand, doing his best to make her feel alright about the fact that she wouldn't see him after all. And he'd even been a goofball, when she knew he was just as disappointed as she was.
In some ways it made it worse even while it made it better. Because it was so Chuck to try to put her at ease when it was her fault in the first place that they wouldn't be meeting after all. And because he was so sweet, it made it that much harder to know she'd be without him for another undetermined amount of time.
It hurt so damn bad hanging up the phone, not knowing when she'd get to call him again, hear his voice. Not knowing when she'd see him again. She had cried that afternoon, looking at the email he'd forwarded with his flight information. It still sat in her inbox now, a reminder of what could have been.
She knew she was being melodramatic but it had almost been two months since Paris and she just wanted him. She wanted his warmth. She wanted him to smile tiredly at her. She wanted a God damn martini, made by his beautiful hands, over which he grinned with a mixture of pride and genuine happiness.
Not to mention it had been two months since she'd had sex. That was less important, of course, but it was a fact that she absolutely missed the heat and passion of those days they'd shared.
Before Chuck, it hadn't seemed all that important. Sex was unnecessary in the big scheme of things. And then Burbank happened, aikido and that kiss. And oh, Paris. God, Paris. She would think about it sometimes and would catch herself grinning like a madwoman in public. Nothing had ever done that to her before she knew the intimacy of those days and nights she spent wrapped up in Chuck Bartowski. But it was so long ago now, and she'd tasted the forbidden fruit.
She snorted at herself and rolled her eyes. She'd only spent a few days locked away with Chuck, tack onto that a couple of months in Burbank seeing him every day, and she had already picked up some of his cheesiness. It was a travesty…and yet, it made her incandescently happy at the same time.
But then she frowned a bit, because she noticed something she hadn't seen before. A long, bluish green box with a white ribbon tied perfectly around it peeked out from behind the glass vase.
It was an unmistakable box. And if she hadn't known immediately where it was from, the elegant scrawl of "Tiffany and Co." would have been a dead giveaway.
Her eyes wide and her lips parted, Sarah reached out and slid the box closer to her, lifting her hand away and just staring at it for a moment. Her heart was racing as she lifted the "Tiffany blue" box into her hands and untied the ribbon.
The lid tipped off and she was looking down at the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen in her entire life. And as a Pinkerton agent, she'd seen many a priceless gem. Wealthy women who lost their heirloom jewels, large opulent pearls and shimmering gold and giant diamonds, rubies, emeralds, et cetera.
But this was so classic and unpretentious, so elegant and restrained.
It was perfect.
She pulled it out of the box carefully and cradled it as though it would shatter at any moment. It was so lightweight and as she moved her hands, the light from the nearby lamp danced on the surface of the diamonds set into the chain.
How did Chuck find this? And what was he doing buying her something from Tiffany's, for God's sake? She wanted to shake him and kiss him senseless at the same time.
But as she hurried to the vanity across from her bed and sat in front of it, she carefully unhooked the clasp and put the necklace on.
She felt the cool chain against her skin. It wasn't bulky or clunky or gaudy. It was just…perfect.
Sarah knew she should call him to thank him, but for now she just wanted to look at it. The man had taste, but that had never been in question. From the very beginning, it had been obvious. Especially considering the way he looked in a suit. Although, he looked damn good out of the suit, too…
She shook her head, afraid of her thoughts taking a turn in that direction. Sarah wasn't sure when the next time would be that she'd get to act on those sorts of thoughts, and the frustration of it was enough to make her want to beat her head into the wall, so instead she reached up and gently ran her fingers down the chain, biting her lip in excitement.
Something caught her eye in the mirror suddenly. A bit of pale yellow tucked in the midst of the gardenias on the table. A note!
The stool she'd been sitting on almost tipped she sprang to her feet so quickly, snagging the folded card and opening it to let her eyes sweep over the contents.
Sarah—
We didn't get Chicago so I thought I'd send something
to keep you company in cold Norway.
I miss you like crazy.
—Chuck
He sketched a heart next to the 'k' in his name. And for some silly, stupid reason, the fact that it was lopsided, and that he seemed to try to trace over one side of it in an attempt to fix it, was what caused her heart to beat madly against her chest.
I miss you like crazy. God, if only he knew how much she reciprocated those feelings. She was absolutely, terrifyingly mad about Chuck Bartowski.
After reading the note over again and staring at it for a few minutes, she finally resigned herself to get ready to sleep. She moved the gardenias to the bedside table and fluffed them up a bit before removing her necklace and gently placing it back in its Tiffany box.
Her shower was longer than necessary because she'd gotten distracted, standing with her forehead pressed against the tile, letting the hot water pelt her back as she thought about how much she wanted Chuck to see her in that necklace. The light in his amber colored eyes, the way his jaw would drop like it had when he had walked in on her while she was working out in the Bartowski Electronics gym that morning all those months ago. But unlike that day, instead of stumbling over his words and bolting in a panic, he would wrap her up in his arms and they would kiss and do…other things…
Thumping her forehead against the tile and rolling her eyes at herself, she switched gears again.
She didn't think for a moment that Chuck had any intention in buying it for her other than that he wanted her to know he was thinking about her. That he valued her as a part of his life. And God but it really was a gorgeous piece of jewelry. One that she couldn't help putting back on even after she dried off and donned her sleeping pants and tank top.
And then Sarah found herself lying back against her pillows in the dark, staring at the ceiling of her hotel room, alone in a foreign city, the case no closer to being solved than it was the last time she spoke to Chuck on the phone. And she was no closer to finishing up here and getting back to her boyfriend who she hadn't seen in two months.
In spite of all of these things, the chain around her neck made it all feel a little less depressing. And if she closed her eyes, she could picture Chuck as she gently rolled the necklace between her fingers. She could almost feel the inherent warmth that radiated from the lanky nerd's body when they fell asleep together in Paris.
She fell asleep that way, the three diamonds set into the necklace resting peacefully against her chest, glimmering in the moonlight.
—
Sarah was awakened by an incessant buzzing that got louder and louder as it went on. She groaned and turned over, feeling something cool press against her cheek.
Ignoring it and slinging her arm over to the bedside dresser, she grappled for her damnable phone and answered it, raising it to her ear without checking the caller ID. "Hmph'lo?"
"Aw crap, I woke you up."
Her grumpy features were overtaken by glowing happiness at the sound of his voice in her ear. "Mmm, yeah ya did. But I can't think of a better way to be woken up."
"Really? 'Cause I feel like I came up with some real doozies back in Paris." His voice was so warm and rumbly, and there was so much extra meaning and it was the morning and she'd just woken up. Suddenly every part of her was humming.
She groaned at him and squirmed a little under her duvet, sinking further into the warmth of her bed. "You can't do that to me when you're thousands of miles away," she murmured in a similar tone to his. "It isn't fair."
His chuckle was positively evil and she groaned again. "Chuck…"
"Sarah…"
"Hi."
"Hello, beautiful. Hey, should I call back later? I really didn't mean to wake you up."
She shook her head even though he couldn't see it, and nestled even further into the pillows. "Don't you dare." Then she added playfully, "I couldn't bear it."
He chuckled at that and then asked how she was. Maybe it had just been so long since she'd spoken to him, or it was the warm crackle of affection in his voice, or the incessant humming of her body, still there from Chuck's introduction. Or it could have been that she missed him so much her heart hurt and having him on the phone for the first time in days was overwhelming her brain. But Sarah found herself desperate to unload her frustrations of the case to him again.
It was unprofessional, terribly stupid. But she needed to do it so badly. She wanted to do it.
She couldn't do it.
So instead, she gave him the barest of details, describing the trials she'd faced on a surface level, giving him examples that reflected the truth of the case without spelling it out. And he listened, his responses warm and supportive, once again eager to reassure her and bolster her confidence with his assurance that she was the best and a bad ass. She would figure everything out because she always did.
It was wonderful, having Chuck to lift her spirits at the beginning of what would probably be another trying day. So it was only natural that she wanted to make him feel just as good by showing interest in his life. She changed the subject and asked him eagerly about his work.
She could listen to him for days as he talked about Bartowski Electronics Corporation. He was so passionate about the products, rambling off techy terms she had no clue about, giddily describing his plans for a new project.
But suddenly the conversation seemed to taper off a bit and she could almost hear the gears in his head turning. "So, Sarah. Uh. Anything else new? I mean, new with you?"
Biting her lip, she turned her face into her pillow to muffle the embarrassingly sappy giggle. It was obvious he was attempting to find out if she got his gift without alerting her to its existence in case it hadn't arrived yet. It was adorable and clumsy, and so Chuck.
"The flowers were so sweet, Chuck. Thank you," she teased, hearing him let out a breath of air in amusement.
"Oh. Yes, the flowers. Gardenias are your favorite, aren't they?"
If only he knew what was still pressed between the pages of her notebook. "My very favorite."
"Good."
"Chuck, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said warmly, dropping her teasing tone.
She could hear him grinning as he spoke. "You like it? God, I was worried it would maybe be too uncomplicated or not modern enough or something."
"It's perfect. I'm uh, I'm wearing it right now, actually."
"Really? Hm." There was a pause. "What else are you wearing?"
Sarah burst out laughing, marveling at how quickly her mood did a one-eighty around this man. It would have been unsettling if it didn't feel so damn good. "Pajamas, you horn dog."
"Mmm, girl, you know I love me some sexy pajamas."
She laughed even harder and had to sit up to keep from choking.
When she sobered a bit, his amused voice drifted out of her phone again. "So are you going to walk around all day with that necklace on? Make all them Norwegian boys go loco."
With a giggle, she wondered at his incredibly goofy mood. He was probably just now leaving his office, which meant he was tired and a little loopy. For just a moment, she let herself imagine him all rumpled with his tie loose and his jacket off, his sneaker-covered feet propped on his desk, his hair mussed. She almost hummed out loud, but bit her lip instead. "Um…Well, I can't wear it. I mean, not all day. Remember?"
"What do you mean?"
She lifted the necklace from her neck and looked down at it with a smile. "This isn't the sort of thing a girl buys for herself, Chuck Bartowski. It is a boyfriend gift. And if any of my peers see me wearing a boyfriend gift, I'll get the fifth degree. Their curiosity about who's nabbed Detective Walker the Ice Queen will know no bounds." She raised her eyebrows and fiddled with one of the diamonds.
There was silence on the other end of the line, for long enough that she thought maybe the call had been cut off. "Chuck?"
"Hm?"
"Thought I lost you for a second. Did you hear what I said?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I did. No, that-that makes sense. I almost forgot the secret part of us dating. Heh." He cleared his throat and his voice wasn't as quiet when he continued. "And I haven't nabbed you, per say. That takes the art out of it. I most certainly charmed you, but never nabbed. Detective Walker—who is not an Ice Queen I can happily prove using an eleven thousand dollar damages bill from a certain Parisian hotel room—is incapable of being nabbed."
She beamed into her phone. "Oh no. No, no, no. I've been nabbed. I'm so nabbed."
His chuckle wasn't as unbridled as it had been earlier on during their conversation and it piqued her curiosity. "Well, I'm glad you like the necklace."
"It's the most wonderful thing I've ever been given, Chuck. Really. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"I'll wear it happily when I'm alone in my room, and keep it tucked away safe while I'm out during the day," she chirped affectionately.
He was silent for a moment. "Good. So…be careful out there, Walker. And keep your chin up. Remember, you're a bad ass. And the best."
"Have a good night, baby," she said softly. "Get some sleep, for God's sake."
"Heh. Yeah. I gotta go. Talk to you soon."
"Bye."
Sarah tossed her phone to the end of the bed and flopped back into her pillows, squirming in her warm sheets. He'd been so strange towards the end of that call, even with the flirting. She couldn't put her finger on it, but he was just…off.
When she sat up again, the necklace slid across her skin and she looked down at it again, cradling it in her hand.
The reason for his quietude hit her suddenly and she felt as though she'd been punched in the gut.
He wasn't off. He was sad. Disappointed. Because she had to open her damn mouth and tell him she wasn't going to wear his gift. She thought she had a good reason, but that didn't make her nonchalance while talking about not wearing the necklace in public any less hurtful for him.
Sarah grabbed her pillow and smashed it into her face, using it to muffle her long groan of frustration and annoyance at herself. She didn't have to tell him. And now that she had, she wanted to call him back and take away the hurt she'd caused. But if she tried to explain further, she would probably make it worse, so she left her phone where it was and growled into her pillow again.
I'm the worst at this girlfriend thing.
As she got out of bed and shuffled over to her dresser, Sarah Walker wondered how she'd ever thought she could handle a relationship. Her track record wasn't great, and even then, dating had never been a priority in her life. Protecting herself, surviving, learning—those had been the important things. And while she'd been with a few men before Chuck, none of them had been boyfriends. At least, nothing even close to whatever this marvelous thing was with her tech guy. Functional relationships weren't her strong suit.
And Chuck was obviously serious about her, how serious she wasn't exactly sure, but they'd made a pact of sorts. And she was happy with him. Not that she was actually with him. They'd spent a few days together and two months apart for the entire time they'd been "dating".
God, this was so not even normal. Which meant a part of her wanted to excuse herself for hurting Chuck's feelings. Even though she knew it wasn't excusable. Because no one had ever bought her anything in her life, let alone jewelry. Really, really nice jewelry.
As sweet as it was for Chuck to buy her a gift from Tiffany's, it was also incredibly impressive. Chuck Bartowski was so many things that the men in her life before him weren't, could never be. He was thoughtful, funny, and the most brilliant person she'd ever met. He was adorable and had a good heart. A great heart. And he was incredibly passionate.
But then the shallow part of her was also reminded that Tiffany's was expensive—wildly expensive. Coveted, even, by women all across the country. The world. And Charles Irving Bartowski was quite literally one of the richest men she had ever met. In her line of work, it wasn't exactly new to meet a man whose money seemed to grow on trees.
But it was new to meet a wealthy man who deserved every last cent of it. Because Chuck worked harder than anyone she knew. And his passion for his company and its products, the way he strived to make Bartowski clients and customers happy, it was simply unheard of.
She unclasped the necklace from around her neck and gently placed it back in its box with a sigh, missing its gentle weight against her chest already. His gesture suddenly became much more important to her, and it was all she could do to slip the lid back on the box and tuck it away in the small hotel safe in the closet.
God, she wished she could wear it all day. Every day.
But even though she shouldn't have mentioned it to Chuck, what she said about the necklace was true. She couldn't wear it and chance that her fellow agents would ask questions. Agent Shaw in particular wouldn't let up until he found out who Sarah was dating. Normally, their occasional asshole-ish behavior didn't affect her, but where Chuck was concerned, there were legitimate risks. And she couldn't lose her job.
It was all she had.
XOXOXOXOXO
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Leave a review! I wanna hear what y'all think! -SC