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: Hey all! More chapters coming your way today! Like I said, I want to get this all the way updated to where I'm writing right now! So it's gonna be a flurry of chapters! Look alive! This one was written by Steampunk . Chuckster!-SC

XOXOXOXOXO

Chuck Bartowski had only just recently (recently being in the last few months) learned how to dance. Properly dance. He'd learned to waltz, to be exact. And he had learned from the prettiest instructor, too.

That put a bit of a dopey smile on his face as he pocketed his phone and did a little two-step into the elevator that would take him up to the floor his office was on. Yes, it was a little later than he usually got in to Bartowski Electronics Corporation, but the fact of the matter was that he had simply felt like sleeping in this morning.

Deal with it, world.

It was only his first day back at work since his week long trip to Mexico. Where he had learned to scuba dive instead of continuing the dance lessons. Sarah had never been scuba diving either, which was a pleasant surprise. And when he had voiced that sentiment out loud, she had given him the most adorably befuddled look. But the fact of the matter was, it was a surprise for Chuck when he discovered things Sarah Walker hadn't already mastered. She knew so many languages, she could drive a manual car like it was a picnic, she dominated in just about every martial art there was, she could dance, and not just club freestyle but ballroom and salsa and everything else. She was smarter than anyone he had ever met, and when she put on a bathing suit she rivaled every Victoria Secret model there was. Even if you put them all together, they wouldn't be even close...

Chuck shook his head and rolled his eyes at himself. And she has a heart of gold, he reminded himself silently. Which was evidenced by the fact that she didn't smack him, even teasingly, when he made a big deal about her having never gone scuba diving. It just didn't make sense to him, considering she was a bad ass. And an adventuress, to boot.

As it turned out, she wasn't a fan of being underwater for long periods of time. And she'd had to clutch onto his hand for much of their underwater adventure, until the multicolored fish distracted her enough to where her nerves settled a bit.

The elevator dinged and a wide smile was still on his face as he stepped off, his briefcase not proving to be much of a hindrance for him as he strut into the hallway, did a quick sidestep along the carpet, and even a twirl that certainly hadn't rivaled anything Fred Astaire could accomplish, but what did that matter?

Sarah Walker didn't go on a week long vacation to Mexico with Fred Astaire. She went with Chuck Bartowski. And God, was it good. It was too good. And he dare not say it was too good to be true because that was asking for bad voodoo.

And because he wasn't already on top of the world after the best vacation he had ever been on in his entire life, filled with adventure and warmth and intimacy and more intimacy, Sarah had called him earlier that morning, just before his alarm was set to go off. And she hadn't sounded all that upset about having woken him up. It was supposed to be a quick call, she'd insisted an hour into their conversation, to tell him that she had finally remembered the title of that song she refused to look up throughout the week they spent in Mexico. And because it had happened in the middle of the night, she didn't want to text or call him, afraid she'd wake him up, so she wrote it down and went back to sleep…

This really was too good to be true, though. In spite of them getting on two separate planes at the airport yesterday, headed for two separate cities on either side of the country, Chuck and Sarah's bittersweet goodbye at her gate was light on bitter and heavy on sweet.

Chuck strode into his outer office, bade a jolly good morning to his assistant, and walked right into his personal office, stopping dead at seeing his sister sitting behind his desk. "Wh—Oh! Hi!"

She beamed up at him, leaning far back in the chair, her leather boot heels propped on top of a few of his papers on his desktop.

"Really, El?" he asked in a flat tone, sliding his gaze meaningfully to her boots.

"Oh. Sorry." She lowered her feet and straightened up, folding her hands together very diplomatically on top of his desk. "Hello, brother mine."

"Hello. What brings you here on a Monday morning?"

"Devon and I came to town for the weekend," she said in a droll voice. "And you weren't here. By the way." She sent him a look then shrugged. "So what brings you here so late? Don't you usually get here at the crack of dawn or something?" she asked, swiveling the chair a little, fiddling with the paper weight in front of her.

"I slept in." He shrugged, tossing his briefcase into the chair in the corner and moving to sit across from Ellie.

"You don't sleep in," she said smartly.

"Except that I just did sleep in, Ellie. So apparently…that is false."

They exchanged similar looks over the desk; wrinkled noses, snarky smiles, narrowed eyes…

And then Ellie reached over and poked his cheek. "Also, you look like you haven't shaved in the last few days." That was when he saw it, even though he watched her attempt to hide it. Just a smidgeon of concern or worry. Her hazel eyes a little unsure, her lips pursed, before it all smoothed out and she was smirking again. "Are you going lumberjack hipster on me?"

"Haaa haa," he mumbled, making a face. "Just so you know, I don't own anything flannel."

"Not even PJs? I know you have flannel PJs…Which, by the way, I wore flannel PJs way before they were cool, so…" She shrugged and he laughed out loud.

"Now who's the hipster?"

"I was hipster before hipster was—"

"Okay, okay," he interrupted, waving his hand in the air. "You know I love you, El, but I'm also incredibly aware of your tells. And right now I can see one clear as day."

"My tells?" She leaned back and crossed her arms. "Okay, hotshot. What tell are you seeing right now?"

"You have something you want to tell me—or, more aptly, spring on me—and you know it might make me annoyed or frustrated or mad, so you are putting it off by engaging me in a bit of our usual witty sibling banter." He bat his eyelashes at her with a closed-mouth smile, receiving an eye roll and a huff that blew her fringe away from her temples.

"Fine. But I know your tells, too. Like right now for instance. Sleeping in. Not shaving. You're relapsing."

"What?"

"You're doing the thing you do when you're unhappy."

Chuck frowned deeply. Because she couldn't be more wrong. And that was strange. Because Ellie was more often than not completely right about him. He wasn't just not unhappy, he was the happiest he had ever been in his entire life. He had just been to Mexico for a whole week with the most amazing woman in the universe. He was dating said woman. And she had made it completely clear through her actions that she wanted to be with him.

Ellie's comment about him being unhappy was entirely inaccurate.

What on Earth was she seeing?

"What thing?" he finally asked, shaking his head.

"When you're unhappy, there are two things you do. Either you bury yourself in your work until you are on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion. Or you do what you're doing now."

"What am I doing now?"

Eleanor Faye Woodcomb née Bartowski gave him the look she saved especially for him, a look she'd been giving him since he was born, practically. If he was ever being particularly clueless, or overly self-effacing and self-conscious…and usually right before she landed a good, hard dose of real world on his head.

"The exact opposite of that, Chuck. Sleeping in late, taking all of these, quote, vacations," she threw the bunny ears up, "for the company. I love you, Chuck, but you aren't happy."

"I am happy. And those aren't just vacations, they're—"

"Don't say they're for work, because I happen to know that not all of them are. Dad told me."

Chuck dropped his head back against his chair and rolled his eyes. Damn it.

"Chuck, you don't do vacations. Ever since Dad wrangled you into this business as his right hand puppet—"

"Elliiiieee," he interrupted in a warning tone. "He didn't wrangle me. I'm working here because I want to."

"Yes, yes. I know. You say that. And yay, now you get to be Dad's heir to the throne. I still think you could have started your own company, one that better reflects where you wanted to go with all of this software stuff instead of slotting into B.E. with Dad, but it was your decision. Sort of. Your decision…with Mom riding your ass in your last month at Stanford."

"Ellie, we've been over this. One of us had to do this, and I'm the one who was always nerding out about computers and programming—"

"And hacking," she muttered under her breath. He sent her a look that said Shut up about that and she merely shrugged innocently.

"You're the doctor, Ellie. And you're good at it. And you're happy, right?"

"Mhm."

"And I'm happy here. Doing this. I've told you time and again. We can't both rebel against our parents at one time." He grinned cheekily.

"You big asshead," she gasped, only sort of offended, the larger part of her obviously close to laughter. "Fine. You win. Become a big CEO. I'm fairly certain you won't run it into the ground. I guess." She nudged his shoulder and he felt the warmth of their lifelong connection in his chest. "Anyways, like I was saying, once you started here after college, you became a workaholic. Never taking a break unless we forced you on a family trip or something. And now, all of a sudden, you're taking a trip once a month, sometimes more than that? I mean, what's happened to my brother? What are you doing?"

"I'm turning a new leaf, maybe. Seeing the world now before I actually become the CEO for real, I suppose." He shrugged.

"Ever since that freaking maniac tried to kill you and Dad last year, you've just been different. That's all I'm saying."

All thanks to one Detective Sarah Walker, Chuck couldn't help thinking affectionately. And hopefully silently. But judging by the unmoved look on his sister's face, he'd kept that little comment inside. Thank God.

"I guess I am a little different," he admitted. "Is it so bad?"

"Nooo," she answered, shaking her head, picking at the spine of a project binder now. "I'm not saying it's bad, I'm just—I guess I'm worried about you."

"Maybe all of those near death experiences made me realize there's a lot more that life has to offer. And I wanna see things besides a computer screen and piles of blueprints and the inside of my bachelor pad. That's all I've seen since I graduated almost six years ago!"

Ellie looked at him solidly for a minute and Chuck wondered if she could see how full his head and heart was with Sarah. He wondered if she could see his feelings right there in his face. He could try to mask it, but Ellie would see right through him. She always could. And he was ashamed to admit that it had perhaps kept him from visiting her as often as he usually tried to, before he and Sarah began dating. She would figure it out immediately if he let his guard down for even a moment. He just knew it.

And he and Sarah had made a promise to each other. No one could know.

Ellie finally broke his gaze. "That could be. That detective—what was her name again? Sarah? Yeah, Sarah. I hope Pinkerton gave her a freaking raise after that. Solving the case as quickly as she did, and doing it with Mom biting at her heels like a rabid nutjob, she deserved a raise."

Chuck said nothing. Because if he did, even just to agree with her, he knew she would hear it in his voice, see it in his face. That just two days before, he was in bed with said detective, drinking martinis and listening to the waves outside of their sanctuary…

He shook his head quickly, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. He would need to wait until after Ellie was out of sight before he allowed himself to indulge in the memories of that trip. Feeding Sarah a grape with his teeth…

God save me, I'm going to hell, he thought in a slight panic.

"Anyways, I'm here because I have something of a proposition."

That put Sarah right out of his mind as though a bucket of cold water was dumped over his head. Chuck squirmed a little in his seat. "Uh…a proposition, huh?"

"Oh God, don't look like I'm going to ask you to sell your soul to the devil. Calm down." She giggled and he gave her a weak, one sided smile. "It's just that you never hang out with anybody but Morgan, Chuck. And yeah, I don't see you every day because I don't live in town, but I know I'm right. Morgan is literally your only friend."

"What?" he snapped, minutely offended. "I have friends besides Morgan!"

"Like who? And don't say your employees. They like you because you're a good boss and because you're fair and kind and a topnotch leader, Chuck, but they aren't your friends." She wasn't trying to be mean, he knew, just realistic. And so he endeavored to respond with equal realism.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, yes. I hang out with Morgan. I don't need five million friends, though. I'm happy with my work, Morgan, my family, myself…" My girlfriend…

"Oh, Chuck. God. Chuck. Listen to yourself. That's like…what people say in the stupid voice over narrative at the beginning of a romantic comedy. Only, usually it's a woman." Chuck glowered. "Just telling it like it is, sweetie." He continued to glower. "I'm sorry! But you need someone to pull you out of this slump!"

"I'm not in a slump! I'm perfectly happy!"

"Oh, really? Because Morgan told me a few weeks ago that you have been having mood swings. Sometimes trudging around the apartment, doing nothing but drinking martinis and playing RPGs, and other times skipping around like Fred Astaire wherever you go." Chuck didn't say anything, although he did feel himself blush a little. Because not minutes before, he was dancing down the hallway and literally comparing himself to Fred Astaire.

"What the—Are you and Morgan starting some sort of weird clandestine behind-Chuck's-back spy circuit or something? Geez!" He shook his head. "I thought you couldn't stand him!"

"I can't! Which is why I'm equally surprised that I've been calling him to ask about you. I'm also equally surprised that I have to call him to ask about you. Because usually when things are upsetting you, you immediately come to me!" Ellie now actually looked a little upset, which in turn made Chuck incredibly upset.

"Is that what this is about, then?" he asked quietly.

She gave off a heavy sigh and leaned her elbow on the desk, propping her chin in her palm. "No, it actually isn't. I mean, I wish you would tell me, but since you aren't, and I'm pretty sure I know what it is, I've actually come for another reason." She pepped up then, smiling hopefully.

Uh oh.

He could feel it coming. He knew exactly what was coming. Because his mom got the same hopeful smile on her face just before she broached the subject. So he braced himself, and was still unprepared for it when she said, "I've found the perfect girl for you."

She grinned and bounced a little in her seat.

"Ellie—"

"No, no. Hear me out before you blow a gasket. Just…shh. Okay?" He merely shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's twenty eight. Which is a bit older than you, but I mean not old enough for her to be considered a cougar if this works out. She's a phlebotomist and went to UCLA. A little soft-spoken, maybe. But, get this. She likes…comic books. Ehh?" She held her hands up, looking proud, as if that above all else would make him run up to the roof of the building and shout his love to the world for this twenty eight year old phlebotomist. She loved comic books. Well, that's it then. Goodbye, Sarah Walker.

Had Sarah ever even picked up a comic book? Probably not. Did it matter a lick to him? Definitely not.

Chuck shook his head. "Ellie, I don't care if she can name every DC villain there ever was in alphabetical order off the top of her head. I'm not in the market."

"Why?" she demanded, seemingly miffed at him.

And as annoyed as that made Chuck, it really was such a simple question she was asking. And he knew the answer should be simple. Because he was already dating someone. Because he was in a serious relationship with a woman he could see himself spending the rest of his life with. The only problem was, no one knew that. She didn't even know that.

And suddenly, Chuck wanted so badly for Ellie to know that. That he was more than fairly certain he'd found the love of his life.

But he and Sarah had talked about this in length during their short time in Paris. And even though that seemed like eons ago, things really hadn't changed on that front. Though, for him at least, everything else had changed. Drastically.

"Because!" he finally snapped. And while it was a short answer, it certainly wasn't a simple one. In fact, it only seemed to make his sister even more determined.

"That's not an answer, Chuck!"

"It is an answer, in fact." Now he was being childish.

"Fine. But not a good one. In fact," she mimicked, making a face, "it's a really crappy answer. You don't even want to meet Gwen?"

"Nope."

"She's such a sweet girl, though. Graduated summa cum laude. She has hair that I would kill for. Oh, yeah. And did I mention? She loves computer stuff, just like you do. And her boyfriend was a real jackass. Thankfully she got out of that one."

"Oh good. So you're setting me up with someone who will seemingly be dating me on rebound? Sounds great. Comic books and rebound. Perfect."

"Why are you being such a jerk? I'm offering you your dream girl, Chuck! She's sweet, nice, gorgeous, a nerd…they don't get better than that!"

Can she throw back martinis like they're going out of style? Does she know more languages than she has fingers? Does her smile light up a room like someone lit a box of fireworks? Is she a professional bad ass? Can she turn dance lessons into a night of unadulterated passion and intimacy? Can her laugh cure cancer?

All Chuck wanted to do was insist that they did get better than that. That the proof was probably sitting in her office in Chicago right at this moment, waiting for the next case. In one of those business suits of hers. In those professional black pumps that made her legs look so toned and long and perfect. Preparing for yet another day of being an epic bad ass.

"Ellie, really. I'm fine where I am right now."

"And where are you, exactly?"

"In my office, sitting in the chair on the other side of my desk because my sister stole my chair, having yet another woman haphazardly thrown in my general direction in the hope she latches on." He sent her a supremely sarcastic smile.

"Ugh, Chuck! You're being a child! You won't even go on one date? I wouldn't set you up with a girl unless I knew she was great. And I know Gwen is great! You don't have to exchange rings! Just go on a date! Devon and I will even go with you! We're in town for a bit still and—"

"Ellie, no."

"Oh, and I have it on good authority that Gwen loves sizzling shrimp. So I think she would even hit it off with Morgan."

"Then set her up with Morgan."

"I would never do that to her!"

"Okay, first of all, any girl who ends up with Morgan is lucky. He's a very nice person. And an extremely awesome cook, as well, so…as long as she's, like, semi-average height for a woman and likes a man with a well-groomed beard, he's the perfect guy."

Ellie blinked and once again folded her arms together on top of the desk diplomatically. "That is so inaccurate on, like…basically every level, Chuck."

He just huffed.

"So I'm free on Saturday, and so is Devon. We have breakfast with Mom and Dad in the morning which is just...ugh...but then we don't leave for home 'til Sunday night, so…should I call Gwen?"

"No, you shouldn't call Gwen."

"Why not?"

"I feel like we've been through this." He pinched the bridge of his nose again, gritting his teeth, feeling the heat of anger rise from his collar.

"Chuck, you have absolutely no reason to say no."

"And yet I am saying no."

"Why?!"

"It's my business, Ellie! It's my life!"

"And I'm your sister and I'm looking out for you! You aren't happy right now and I'm offering you a possible cure to your unhappiness."

"I'm so happy, I can't even tell you how happy I am."

"No, you aren't. Because a happy person wouldn't think twice about jumping into a situation that could potentially be something really good. A happy person would say 'Screw it! Maybe this'll be fun!' and go out on one freaking date."

"Ellie…"

"I mean, what have you got to lose?"

She didn't even know the half of what he had to lose. He had everything to lose. Even to appease his sister, even to keep the charade going, he would never ever sit down with another woman in a date situation, even if he had every intention of dropping her off at the end of the night and never seeing her again. Because even with the "secret" part of his relationship with Sarah, it was a real relationship. His feelings for her were so overwhelmingly real.

"Why can't you just accept no?"

"Because I'm your big sister and it's my job to push you to make changes and stuff like that. So just go on this one date," she pushed.

"No. I will not."

The anger was mounting with each passing second. He couldn't stand it anymore. He just wanted to stand up and yell at her.

What with Ellie pressuring him this morning and the women his mother had been not-so-subtly shoving at him, it was all so infuriating. His mom had been trying to set him up with her friends' daughters, women who belonged to the country club his parents frequented. A country club he himself had a membership to but never attended unless it was some sort of business venture with his father for the company. He couldn't even remember how many times he'd said no to his mother in the last year.

And at the moment, he wanted to punch a hole in the wall for each time.

"I just don't get it, Chuck. I know you like girls. But you're willfully denying yourself a perfect one. I mean…does not compute. Don't you want a girlfriend?"

I have a girlfriend. I have a girlfriend. I have a girlfriend. Ihaveagirlfriend. Ihaveagirlfriend.

Maybe if he thought it vehemently enough, it would just come out and he wouldn't be able to stop it. And then Ellie would know and he could swear her to secrecy, and maybe he wouldn't feel like he was perpetually bursting at the seams.

He didn't answer her question, because even to keep their secret safe, he couldn't willingly say he didn't want a girlfriend. Because he did. He wanted a girlfriend. He wanted a specific person. He wanted Sarah.

"Chuck, you can't do this to yourself! You're holding yourself back from leading a full, happy life because…because of what, exactly? Did someone break your heart and I don't know about it for some reason? Are you in one of your self-conscious moods where you don't think you deserve a girlfriend? Because I thought you got out of that phase after college, Chuck, and…"

"Stop it!" he snapped suddenly, his palm slapping so hard against the desktop that it stung.

Ellie sat back, her eyes wide.

"I've had enough of this!" he continued in frustration. "I'm an adult! I'm capable of running my own life, and that includes my romantic life! I don't need you telling me what to do. I don't need Mom telling me what to do. I don't need the both of you shoving dates down my throat!" He did his best to ignore the dark cloud that passed over her face, and damn him, the hurt that was there. Just a flash of it. He rushed on, trying his best to pretend he didn't see it. "I can't handle it anymore! I can't even breathe without someone telling me I need a girlfriend and I'm sick of it!" He took a deep breath, meeting her angry gaze. "Don't you two have better things to do with your lives? I mean, shit! Just…leave me alone!"

The room was silent, though it was as if his voice was still echoing through it. The words he'd said. And even before he got them all out, he felt his chest aching. She didn't deserve to be yelled at. She just didn't know. She didn't know he already had someone, and it was someone she'd liked, too. At least he thought she'd liked Sarah. She'd seemed to like her. The only person who hadn't liked Sarah was Mary Bartowski—his mother.

And now he'd just gone ahead and lumped Ellie into the same category with their mother. After everything those two had been through, the fights and the tense dinners…Ellie's relationship with their mother was incredibly strained at best, especially after her elopement with Devon. And it was safe to say neither woman seemed eager to mend the situation any time soon.

He knew he'd just hurt Ellie more than was necessary. It hadn't been necessary to hurt her in the first place. If only he could tell his family. If not his whole family, then at least Ellie. At the very least, he just wanted to tell Ellie.

With the look on her face at that very moment, he just wanted to collapse at her feet, beg her forgiveness, and tell her he was head over heels for Sarah Walker, the detective who had saved their company, saved his dad's life, saved his life.

And instead, he looked down at his lap.

"Okay," she said through gritted teeth. He heard her voice cut off, as though she was so angry she could barely speak. "Fine." She pushed herself to her feet and smoothed her hands down her blouse. "Forget it, Chuck. I won't call Gwen."

When he looked up, he felt the fight drain out of him. "Ellie…I'm sorry."

"Nope. I'm too pushy. Just like Mom. I'll drop it." She walked around his desk and he thought she would leave, but instead she swooped past him and slammed her knuckles straight into his shoulder, just like she used to do when they were little and he teased her too much. But this time it legitimately hurt.

She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. He knew that he'd hurt her and in typical Ellie fashion, she didn't want him to know it, so she masked it in anger. Even going so far as to hit him in that sisterly way of hers. To let him know he was a jerk, just in case he wasn't already aware of it.

Chuck dropped his forehead to the desktop with a thunk and groaned the moment Ellie left the office, shutting the door behind her.

Maybe this was good for the time being. Because that meant Ellie might steer clear of him for a few days, give him some space. And that would be time that he wouldn't have to worry about keeping his secret from her again.

And then he shook his head at himself, guilt washing over him. This was getting ridiculous. He was yelling at his sister, making her upset, to keep her from finding out he was dating the woman of his dreams. If that wasn't the absolute stupidest, most depressing thing of his life…

He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep deflecting and snapping and lying. He couldn't keep Ellie in the dark anymore. Or Morgan. Or his father.

But he had to. Because more than he wanted to get it all out in the open, he wanted to be with Sarah. If she wasn't ready for it yet, he would have to accept it.

For now.

Because sooner or later, they were going to have to discuss this.

And Sarah was going to have to come to terms with the way relationships were supposed to work. Long distance was fine. He could handle long distance. But he couldn't handle throwing boldfaced lies at his sister and his best friend. He couldn't handle the secrets anymore.

He needed his relationship with Sarah to be out in the open.

But he would have to wait until the next time they saw each other in person. The next mysterious vacation that he didn't tell his family about.

XOXOXOXOXO

Author's Note: Things are getting a little intense, y'all. Oh, man! Next one is coming up soon! - SC