The Detective and the Tech Guy
Author: Steampunk . Chuckster
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.
Disclaimer: No money is being made from this story. I don't own Chuck or The Thin Man series.
Author's Note: Here's "The Detective and the Tech Guy Babysit, Part 2"!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
She was definitely out of her depth.
Clara was so damn cute, and she'd jumped at the chance to spend a whole day with her, but she felt like an immature, ignorant idiot. Like Clara was just going to be playful and happy and sleepy and never cry or poop or do anything actual babies do…
"New diaper," Chuck muttered. "Come on, come on. Let's go. We gotta get this down, gumshoe."
Sarah snagged a clean diaper and passed it to Chuck. "Sorry, sorry…and hey, don't use that tone with me."
"Sorry, I'm stressed. It's no excuse, I know."
He slipped the diaper under Clara, put her butt back down on the changing table, and quickly wrapped her back up, clapping his hands together. "Holy shit. Literally. Beeeecause that was a lotta poo."
"Yep."
They cleaned up the dirty diapers and wipes, washed their hands, and in Sarah's case, all the way up to her elbows, then settled back onto the couch.
She sat at the end of the couch and Chuck laid down the full length of it, settling his head in her lap and putting Clara on his chest. Sarah put one hand in Chuck's curls, and with the other, she gently stroked over Clara's straight hair with her fingertips.
"How did she manage to cry for four hours straight? I've never been so utterly disrespected by another living thing," Chuck said quietly, making Sarah giggle just as quietly.
"Really? That's the worst?"
"Mhm. And I've been shat on by birds on two separate occasions."
She laughed a little less quietly this time. "I made the mistake of forgetting she's not just a really beautiful doll that chews on fingers and giggles."
"Don't beat yourself up over it, hot stuff, I did the same thing and she's my niece." He rubbed said niece's back, and for some reason, the utter adoration and gentleness in his touch made her feel more emotional than she was prepared for. She pressed her lips together as her chest ached, and she blinked quickly to keep tears at bay.
"Hey…" she said then, giving one curl on his head a tug to get his attention, once that moment had passed. His brown eyes moved up from the groggy baby to meet her gaze questioningly. "I love you."
Chuck beamed up at her immediately. "I love you, too. Thank you for babysitting with me, Sarah. And for not getting mad at me when I barked at you while we were assembly-line-status changing this little Poop Monster's diaper."
She laughed. "I know you didn't mean it. Can you imagine, though? Devon and Ellie have to do this twenty-four/seven."
"Mmmmm hm, it's insane. And now I'm exhausted after just a few hours."
"Take a nap." She shrugged.
Chuck gave her a look. "What about you?"
"I'll just turn the TV on. If you can reach the remote that's on the coffee table with your long freaking arms."
"Nah, it's okay. I can sleep later. Thank you, though." And then he peered down at the baby now fully asleep on his chest. "She's looking a lot more like Awesome I think. Now that she's older."
"Think so?"
"Yeah. Definitely. Aside from the fact that her hair is getting very Ellie-ish in color. She has the same color eyes as him, and I think the jaw is really similar. And her smile."
"Oh, she's going to have such a big smile."
"Yep. Just like Awesome."
"Baby Awesome?" she tried out.
"Ellie will murder us both in our sleep."
She giggled. "Never mind that then. I'd like to see thirty."
"I'd like to see you at thirty, too." The growl sound that came from deep in his chest made her snort, because what did that even mean? But it also made Clara squirm on his chest and pressed her balled fists against her face grumpily. "Shhh shh shh…" He rubbed her back gently. "Rooock a bye, baaaby, on the treemmmph hmmmph I forgot the words because I'm super sleepyyyy," Chuck sang in a quiet, comforting voice.
Sarah had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. Clara was asleep again, and Chuck beamed, flashing Sarah a thumbs up and mouthing, "That worked", and it was possibly the cutest thing she'd ever seen in her life.
She looked at the two of them, the baby and her uncle, and she put her finger on Chuck's nose. "She still has your nose. Especially seeing your noses so close together right now. They're almost identical."
"Mmm. Mine's a lot bigger."
She giggled. "You know what I mean. Also, that was an amazing sentence out of context."
"What?" He frowned in confusion. "Mine's a lot big—Oooh ho ho ho," he drawled, letting out a immature he he he, "you're such a horndog, Sarah Walker, P.I."
"You did this to me."
"Shhh child ears."
"Your sister, this child's mother, said shit and fuck a bunch, right in her face."
He snorted. "Good point."
"Mhm. I'm full of those, and—" She stopped when her phone buzzed where it was sitting on the coffee table. "Noooooo," she breathed. "Nooo, please not now."
"Glad you put it on vibrate."
"I'll put you on vibrate." He choked a little. "Can you hand me my phone, please?"
Chuck reached over and nabbed her phone, pulling it back and lifting it over his head for her. Burgess.
Shit.
She answered it in as quiet of a voice as she could without sounding like a weirdo. "Hello, this is Sarah Walker."
"Ah. Yes, Miss Walker. This is Jerry Burgess. You're working a case for me."
"Yes, I know who you are, Mr. Burgess. Any updates on the documents I asked for?"
"I-I think I've found something interesting. This might be the perfect lead for our case."
Our case, he'd said. She rolled her eyes.
"Oh? All right, Mr. Burgess. Why don't you email—?"
"Well, I thought if I emailed it to you, you could take a look. It might be something. But I know Gregson is going to be downtown in an hour."
Like the sweetheart mindreader he was sometimes, Chuck oh-so-carefully sat up just enough for her to be able to squeeze out from under him. And before he could put his head back down on the couch, she slipped a pillow under his head. He air-kissed towards her and watched as she hurried away.
"Where downtown, Mr. Burgess?"
"The Renald. It's a French bistro. I was going to send my assistant Sue if I couldn't get ahold of you."
Jerry Burgess' assistant Sue was a heavyset woman in her early-sixties who wore bright colors, had long nails that were even brighter, and she was loud. She knew it was a mean thing to think, but a loud, bright, colorful, large woman who'd never tailed someone before probably wasn't the best person to send to tail someone. Her shoes were clunky, too. Big clog-like things that made loud sounds when she walked. It had made Sarah cringe when she'd sat in Burgess' office, hearing the clunk clunk clunk….clunk…clunkclunk as Sue had walked around out there.
"No, no," Sarah rushed out, stepping into Ellie and Devon's open kitchen. "No, don't send Sue. Please. I'll…" She paused, thinking about how nice it would be to just make Chuck scoot over a little so that she could fit next to him on the couch, and the three of them could just doze together for a while… "I'll check it out."
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and clenched her jaw.
"Oh. Good. He is meeting someone there. Mark Vandrine. They went to pharmacy school together. I know they're up to something. Probably plotting against me. Vandrine is always such an asshole whenever we have to be in the same room together," Burgess groused.
So he wanted her to go to this French bistro, all the way in downtown L.A., just in case Paul Gregson and this man he was meeting for lunch were plotting against him, because sometimes they were mean to him at parties…
"And don't worry, I'll double your pay," he added.
"Thank you, Mr. Burgess. I'll be there in an hour and I'll keep you updated on my findings," she said. What was it people always said? Mo' money, mo' problems?
She sighed and hit end on her phone, thumping her forehead against the wall. She supposed some of her jobs would be more difficult than others. Or at least, more trying on her nerves. She walked back out of the kitchen and slid to a stop at the couch.
Clara was awake again, gurgling and slapping at Chuck's chest. He sent a panicked look up at Sarah as she rounded the couch and gave him a raised eyebrow. "I didn't do this. She woke up on her own. Out of nowhere. Like, possessed doll status, her eyes just went BAM and snapped open. It was freaky."
She laughed and then knelt down next to the couch, sobering up almost immediately as she leaned her arms on the couch and rested her chin on top of them.
"What's up with good ol' Jerry?"
Sarah huffed. "I'm probably going to have to come to terms with the fact that not all of the jobs I end up doing as a private eye are going to be super rewarding, outside of the money I end up getting paid. Obviously."
"But the money is good. The money means you can make improvements to the office, get some stellar PR going, and in a year or so, hire an assistant. Or, you know, I could be your assistant." He grinned toothily. "Or not. But I could. Just saying. I would answer your phone for you any damn day of the week, you gorgeous so-and-so."
She giggled through her nose and beamed at him, already feeling better. That was what he did, though. Her tech guy. "Well, I don't need an assistant at the moment. But thank you for the sentiment."
He shrugged and smiled.
Sarah glanced at her watch then and sighed pitifully. "I really don't want to go. I really, really don't want to deal with this. I really don't want to leave this apartment right now. But…I have to."
Chuck made a pitiful face, his jaw dropping. "Wait, you have to go?"
"Yes," she whined. "I have to go to the Renald."
"Ooo. They have really good baguettes there. Can you buy me some? I like eating those with some butter, a little brie…mmm."
Sometimes he was cute enough that it made her chest hurt, and this was one of those moments. She tapped his nose. "I'll get you some baguettes from the Renald."
"The kind with the little seeds if they have 'em. Oooo and a garlic one? You know what? I'll text you. So you don't forget."
Leaning forward, she pecked him on the lips. "I'm going to be back as soon as I can."
"Another wild goose chase?"
"Probably worse. No chase at all. Just sitting and watching some dudes eat crepes and chat."
"Riveting. Hey. Listen. Don't fall in love with any of them while you're there, okay? Just remember you've got this waiting for you at home, eh? Ehh?" He did his famous eyebrow dance, gesturing to him and a giggly Clara.
"Uh, not gonna be a problem," she said sarcastically, kissing him one last time and standing to her full height. She brushed a hand over Clara's tiny, fragile head. "I'll see you both soon, traffic willing."
"Byyyye. Clara wave bye-bye to Auntie Private Eye. Byyyyyeeee…."
Sarah grabbed her things and ducked out of there as quick as she could, glad to be alone in the courtyard outside suddenly…Because she hadn't missed the way Chuck had called her "auntie", without blinking, without missing a beat.
And even though she felt a fullness, a warmth, in her chest, she wasn't sure how her brain felt about it just yet.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The Renald was cute.
Small, quaint, very French, but almost a little heavy-handed in the decor. Chuck was right about the baguettes, though. They were amazing.
She was munching on one now, dipping a piece in the oil and vinegar and slipping it between her lips. She glanced over the rim of her coffee mug and adjusted the earpiece she'd snuck into her ear while pretending to tuck her hair away from her face. She'd stuck the bug on the underside of the lip on the edge of Gregson and Vandrine's table they were sitting at as she brushed by about fifteen minutes earlier. And now she was listening to them speak.
"Ma wasn't the best cook but she tried, bless her," Gregson laughed, pushing his long, black hair back from his face. He was the taller of the two, in a jacket that was too big for his arms and draped over him in a way that made him almost look like a vulture with hair.
"Oh my mom was a great cook. She just didn't try. Didn't give a shit." Vandrine shrugged and shoved a large piece of his crepe in his mouth, chewing noisily. The sound of it made her want to throw the rest of her baguette at the rest of his bald head. "Sometimes that's how they are though, huh?"
"True, true. Sometimes…"
The conversation varied from family to reminiscing about pharmacy school. It was exactly what she'd expected.
Another wild goose chase.
From the beginning Jerry Burgess had seemed to her to be something of a hypochondriac, but also paranoid about everything else, as well. Some days she met him, he wondered aloud if Sue, his assistant, had purposely hidden his favorite pen to drive him crazy. And Sarah would find it under a few papers. Other days he thought so-and-so wanted to take down one of his hedge funds and was angling to put him out of business. Then there were the fears he had about his wife who was an agoraphobe and therefore couldn't possibly being "going out on him" like he thought. She didn't even go out. And still she had spent two days watching his house while he worked to make sure no one was going in to visit his wife.
But the money was good.
And this time he was sure Paul Gregson was up to no good, ready to stab him in his back. He called him shady. This would be the one, he was sure. Gregson would definitely be the person who was planning on going after him.
She supposed owning as many hedge funds as Jerry Burgess did was liable to drive anyone out of their mind with paranoia. He was worth billions, after all.
Then again, so was Charles Irving Bartowski. And the two men couldn't be further apart in every way. Maybe it was the fact that Chuck had good people around him. He had his dad, Ellie, Devon, Morgan, even the people who worked for him like Adisa…
Jerry Burgess had a wife who was dealing with mental illness, grown children who'd left the nest and really never quite came back to it, an assistant who clocked in to work, then clocked out again, picked up her paycheck, and had no connection to him or her job, really…
She'd just made herself sad, though, so she thought about how nice it would be to just leave this place in a few minutes, tell Burgess nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and get back to the Woodcomb apartment so that she could wrap herself up in Chuck and that beautiful baby for the rest of the time they had her before Awesome and Ellie came back from their barbecue.
Sarah took her phone out as the men asked for their check at the other table, arguing over who would pay this time. There was a text from Chuck, and as she opened it, she couldn't withhold the quiet giggle that erupted.
It was a selfie he took of himself, having never left his spot on the couch, with Clara snuggled up with her face next to his, laughing at some sound he must've made or something. His eyes were crossed, tongue sticking out, and she could see right up his nose. He'd texted the words: "I just blew both our noses. Did we get everything out?"
She texted back, "How you can manage to be this gross and this cute at the same time, I honestly don't understand."
Putting her phone away, she snuck a glance across the bistro at the two men as they settled on who would pay, Gregson handing the waiter his card. But she noticed that both men stared hard at the waiter's back as he left. It set her on edge.
And she knew why a moment later when Vandrine murmured, "Parking structure on San Pedro, third level, east side. Fifteen minutes."
The man stood up then, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair to shrug it on, then moved his bulky frame away from the table. He didn't look back once as he left.
Having already bought herself a baguette—and the four different types she got for Chuck—at the counter when she first arrived, Sarah got up from her table and left. She felt it, then. That age-old thrill that made her fingers and toes tingle. Something was happening.
What, she had no idea.
But something was going down in that parking structure. She was just glad she had her camera in the trunk of her car.
Sarah found a parking structure on San Pedro, using her GPS to see if there were any other parking structures nearby on the same street. There weren't, so she had to go with it. She had no idea where Vandrine had parked, so she couldn't follow him. But she wanted to get there before they met. She needed to already be in a good place so that she didn't have to sneak in while they were there and risk being seen.
It took her three minutes to get to the third floor of the parking structure, and she noticed how eerily empty the floor was. Perhaps this was why they met here. They knew there would be less chance of witnesses.
She parked in a small cluster of cars so that her own car wouldn't be all on its own and easy to single out, and then she climbed out, hurrying to her trunk, popping it open, and grabbing her camera.
Slinging the strap around her shoulder, she shut her trunk as quietly as she could and rushed to the corner pillar, peeking around it at the east side wing of the structure. She didn't spot anyone sitting in the few cars that were parked in the spaces on this side, which meant her shortcut had paid off. She'd beaten Vandrine here.
Glancing over her shoulder, she dashed across to the three cars parked side by side and slid down between them, crouching down, pushing herself as close to the tire of the car as she could in hopes whoever drove by didn't spot her.
And she did a silent celebratory dance in her head as a car driven by a bald fellow swept past the cars she was hiding between. She flattened herself on the ground and watched under the car as he parked about fifteen spaces away, on the opposite side of the ramp.
He turned off the car and sat for a while.
Sarah got up and prepped her camera, lifting it up over the hood, pointing it at Vandrine's Chrysler and zooming in to take a few shots of the car and its license plate both. Then she ducked back down and waited.
Gregson was a minute late by the time he pulled in and joined his friend, and as he maneuvered his BMW in next to Vandrine's car, Sarah slowly popped back up to take more photographs. Of his car, his license plate, the two cars and plates together…
Then she watched as both men slowly got out of their cars and came around to look at one another, speaking in quiet voices. She snapped a few pictures, then waited, watched…
Something occurred to her suddenly as they leaned closer to speak in even quieter voices.
"Please don't be lovers," she whispered to herself. "Please, please don't be lovers." She was hoping she'd have something to go off of. If they were lovers, this would be another freaking dead end. Great for them, shitty for her. "Please don't be lovers…"
She paused and winced upon realizing how that sounded. It wasn't how she meant it at all. Love is love and all that. Crap.
Vandrine went to his trunk and popped it then, and Sarah saw the large, silver case inside.
"Yesssss! They're criminals!" she hissed to herself, taking as many pictures as she could manage as they made the exchange. Gregson popped it open and she saw what looked like…She zoomed in a bit more and snapped photos. Drugs. Stolen drugs.
"You bad, bad boys…" she breathed.
She waited between those cars for a good three minutes once both men left and she made her way back to her own car with measured but hurried steps. And the moment she got inside, she picked up her phone. "Call Detective Casey…"
She turned on her car and pulled out of her spot, making her way down and out of the parking structure as the sound of the phone ringing reverberated through the inside of her car.
There was a click and a, "Yeah wut. It's Casey."
"Are you at the station?"
"Uh…what?"
"This is Sarah Walker, the private eye you spoke to yesterday morning."
"Oh. What do ya want?"
"I have something for you. Something you might be interested in."
"Unless it's the identity of the fucker who double-parked in front of the grocery store this morning when I was tryin' to buy flour, I don't give a shit."
"Flour? Are you a baker, Detective Casey?"
"…Shut up. What've ya got?"
"Potential pharmaceutical drug theft? I don't know exactly what it is I saw, but I took pictures of it. I've got photos of license plates, faces, the drugs themselves, though you probably can't zoom enough to see what the actual drug is…"
"Wait, how in the hell—?"
"Don't ask questions until I get there. I'll be there in about twenty."
There was just a grunt of confirmation and a click. She pressed the button on her wheel to hang up the phone and glanced to the side at the camera in the passenger seat. She'd update Burgess later on. For now, she was on her way to the police station.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"Okay," Chuck muttered to himself…or maybe he muttered it to Clara. Either way. "I know you're only two months old, but you have Bartowski blood in you. That's right," he chirped in her favorite voice of his, bouncing her a little on his knees. "That's right, you have Bartowski bloooood. Bloodtowski. No." He shook his head. "Not that. Let's forget I said that one, okay?"
She let out a happy squeal and giggled.
"That's my girl. Okay, see this?" He held dangly plastic keys in front of her, shaking it a bit so that it made clacking sounds. Her blue eyes moved from her own fists to where she'd heard the sound and they got wide, her mouth opening in awe. "What's thaaaaat?" he asked, giggling at how damn cute she was. She let out a wondrous, "Ahhh!" and Chuck laughed, mimicking her.
He shook the keys again and she reached up with both hands, making to grab them, her little fingers slipping over the plastic. "You can do it…you can do it, you bad ass. C'mon!"
Chuck heard the door open and he turned to watch as Sarah came back in. She'd been gone for two hours. He'd timed it. Not because he was upset with her for how long she was taking—not at all. But because he missed her, as much as he valued one on one time with his niece. "Heeey, baby."
"She's the baby, ya nerd." Sarah winked and shut the door behind her, setting down her stuff, stepping out of her pumps, and rushing back over to the couch to plop down next to him, almost on top of him, and she immediately leaned down to put her face close to Clara's.
"Hiiiiiii, yoooou." Clara giggled and reached up to put her little palm against Sarah's chin. "Yes, that's me. That's Sarah."
"Oh, okay. There's a pecking order here, I guess. She gets a big ol' hello and I get no greeting whatsoev—" He didn't even get the sentence out before he found her hands framing his face, bringing him in for a long, hard kiss. He had to make sure some of his focus was on the two month old currently propped on his legs to make sure his limbs didn't just go limp and she plopped to the floor at his feet.
When Sarah pulled back, her eyes had a certain sparkle to them. "Hi, there."
"Oh. Well. Hello." Chuck smoldered, making her giggle. "You're in a much better mood than you were when you had to go. Did you get rid of ol' JerJer?" He didn't know why, but he affected a caricature Irish accent and chirped, "Did ya find a pot o' gold?"
She gave him a flat look. "That was terrible and no, of course not. But!" She leaned in, an excited and yet, almost primal, look of triumph on her face. "I caught some drug dealers, and not the Coke On The Street type of drug dealers, but the white collar pharmaceutical over the counter kind of drugs. And one of them is a pharmacist."
"What?! That's so awesome! Wait, wait. Back up for a second. Did you just…stumble onto it in a parking lot?" he chuckled.
"No, I was tailing Burgess' guy he was so stressed out about. He thought he was up to something and that it had everything to do with him. He was right about him being up to something, wrong about it having to do with Burgess. The guy's a drug smuggler." She let out a happy, "Ha!" and clasped her hands together. "I took pictures, got license plate numbers, and brought it all to Detective Casey down at the LAPD."
"Wow. Wow! So ol' Jerry wasn't as paranoid as you thought." Her flat look made him rephrase that. "Or um, he is super paranoid, but he was actually right about this guy being shifty."
"Mhm." She shook her head then and let out a huff, looking relieved. And then she dropped her gaze to Clara and looked happy. Just like that. Her head fell onto his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her, keeping his other hand steady on Clara's belly, the keys still dangling from his fingers. "What have you two been doing since I left?"
"We both slept most of the time you were gone."
"Did you?" she asked, her voice getting higher as she tickled Clara's chest. Clara squeaked and laughed. "Did you get a nappy-nap? Huh? Yes?" Then she turned her attention back to Chuck. "Did you get a nap, too? Huh?" she asked in the same tone of voice.
"Mhmmm…yes I did," he mimicked her voice, chuckling at her as she gave him a teasing grin. He leaned in to kiss her again. "We missed ya, though."
"I missed you, too." She sighed and reached up to push her fingers through his hair. It felt so good he hummed. She giggled. "You're like a cat."
Laughing, Chuck began nuzzling his head against her, purring. He knew she hated when he did that to her, but it made her laugh anyway, and because she was laughing, Clara let out another squeal, excitedly kicking her feet and making her hands into fists, waving them over her head.
"Oh, are you excited?" Chuck asked his niece, turning back to her. "Is my little C-Muffin excited about Honorary Auntie Sarah laughing at her dumbdumb boyfriend? Yes?" Clara bounced and grinned a toothless little grin, kicking again. He grabbed her under her arms and lifted her up, nuzzling his head into her belly and purring like he did with Sarah a moment earlier.
Her laughter was strong, robust, and frankly, hilarious. So he kept doing it, making her crack up so hard her little head fell back.
He finally put her back down on his knees, Sarah laughing so hard she was wiping tears.
"Oh my God, I've never heard such infectious laughter in my life," she giggled. "She's such a freaking gift."
"Isn't she the best? God, I'm so glad my sister gave me a niece."
"So thoughtful of her."
"Right?" He chuckled and beamed at Sarah, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Oh! Wanna see how strong she is? Watch this." He stood up and propped Clara on his arm, so that she could cuddle against his chest. She smacked him a few times in the collarbone, which didn't feel great, but he assumed it was a love tap more than anything. A 'Thank you for making me laugh, Uncle Chuck.'
"Oh…Hey, can you lay her blanket out on the rug here?" he asked. "She needs something soft. You need a soft blankie, Miss Clara. C-Muffmuff." He kissed her forehead and watched as Sarah unfolded one of the baby blankets sitting on the plush chair across from the couch, laying it out on the rug. "Thank you, Sarah. Can you say thank you?" he asked the baby. "No, of course not."
Sarah giggled. "She says thank you by existing."
That made Chuck laugh as he carefully set Clara on top of the blanket on her belly.
The little girl immediately put her palms down and pushed the upper half of her torso up, squeaking with the effort.
"Ooooohhhhh! We got a little She-Hulk over heeere!" Chuck drawled, giving his best Vanna White impersonation as he plopped down next to Clara and gestured at her with a flourish.
"What?! Is it normal for a two month old to already be doing that?"
"I mean, probably. But when I told Ellie about it, she said all off-hand, 'Oh yeah, she's been doing that all week.' Like it was no big deal." He snorted and booped Clara on the nose as Sarah crawled down in front of her, stretching out on her own stomach and folding her arms under her chin.
She looked at Clara, and got the baby to look back, a happy gurgle coming from the young blue-eyed girl's little lips. The older blue-eyed girl looked so sweet and contented lying there like that, Chuck thought to himself.
Clara reached out with one hand and smacked her palm right into Sarah's face, just under her eye, making Sarah squeak in surprise and giggle.
"You okay?" he chuckled. "Don't hit my Sarah, Miss Clara." He spread himself out on the floor just like his girls were and cuddled up next to his niece, putting his fingers gently through the wispy soft hair on her head. "We're trying to keep this one around, huh? She gets kissies. Not hits."
"It takes more than a little pudgy hand hitting me in the face to make me run away, Tech Guy." She paused, wrinkling her nose. "But I'll take the kissies, anyway."
He giggled and stretched forward to kiss her on the cheek right where Clara's hand had gotten her, making nomnomnom sounds as he did it so that she laughed. "Remember that for later, Clara," he said as he lay back down on his stomach again. "When you kiss a boy, nomnom on his face."
Sarah cracked up, her eyes shining bright. "Right. He won't freak out and run in the other direction at all. I'm making sure to tell Ellie and Devon not to let you give this child any important adult talks as she grows up."
"Um, I'm actually okay with that." He widened his eyes and pressed his lips together, puffing out his cheeks, making her laugh again. "Your mama is going to take care of that, okay, Miss Clara?"
Clara rolled onto her back and kicked some more, but Chuck noticed her eyes were drooping suddenly. He reached out and put a hand on Sarah's arm. "Wait. Shh…She's falling asleep." He patted at his back pockets and let out a huff of frustration. "Where's my phone now?"
"Here. Use mine." Sarah pulled her phone out of her front pants pocket and unlocked it, passing it over. "What do you need it for? Taking a picture of her? I could use a Clara picture on my phone. I'll make it my background." She bit her lip excitedly and it was the cutest thing, but then he looked at her screen background and frowned.
"Hey, you'd replace this picture of us for a picture of her?" he asked, giving her a faux pout. "I'm really seeing where I stand today."
"Yeah, it's high time you knew," she said, and it was delivered perfectly, making him chuckle at her as he pulled up YouTube on her phone. "If you are taking a picture, better do it quick. She is lookin' seriously cute right now."
"No, she has a guy she falls asleep to. And it works every time. It's so crazy." He pulled up a Bob Ross video, turned up the volume, and set it down between the three of them.
"Today I'm using an eighteen by twenty-four inch, double-primed, pre-stretched canvas. But you can use whatever size you'd like," the painter's soothing voice came from Sarah's phone. Clara calmed immediately and her legs dropped to the blanket.
"Should we put her in the crib?" Sarah whispered. "So she can sleep comfortably?"
"Good idea," he whispered back. "I'll take Bob, you take baby?"
She snorted and nodded. "I can't believe Bob Ross puts her to sleep."
"Devon was watching tutorials on the computer for some thing he was building while he had Clara next to him in her rocker thingie and he got up to get his protein shake or something and came back. The autoplay was on, I guess, and it went to a Bob Ross painting tutorial and Devon found fussy Clara had fallen fast asleep. He conducted an experiment over the rest of the next week and Bob Ross is like the most soothing sleepifying thing ever for this girl," he said, watching as Sarah oh-so-carefully scooped the baby into her arms.
Clara fussed a bit, squirming, her face wrinkling up in frustration, and Sarah breathed a soft, "Shhh, baby. It's okay." His girlfriend dropped her gaze to the phone and then she gave him a significant look he understood perfectly, lifting the phone and turning Bob Ross up a little louder.
"Let's have some water in this painting. I love water. And it's very easy to paint in this style. Still water is straight lines. Straaaaight lines. Outside, in…then come over here and outside, in," Bob Ross said.
The baby slumped against Sarah's shoulder fast asleep, her thumb in her mouth. Sarah gave him a wide-eyed look and mouthed, "What the hell?"
"See?" he mouthed back.
She giggled quietly and they walked to the small crib the Woodcombs kept in the living room. Her actual wooden crib was the same one Ellie and Chuck had slept in as babies, passed down from Stephen and Mary, dark wood, and with the same pale green cushion cover. They bought a smaller one that rocked a bit so they could be out in the living room of their apartment, or in the kitchen, and keep her nearby while she napped.
Clara fussed again as Sarah lowered her inside and Chuck rushed to the other side of the crib, setting a comforting hand on the baby's tummy, rubbing gently. "It's okay, just go to sleep, you tiny bad ass. We got you…"
When she stilled, soothed by the gentle rocking of the crib, they both stood to their full height and let out sighs of relief.
"Good teamwork," Sarah said quietly. When she looked up to meet his eye, he saw a certain sparkle there that filled him with warmth and contentment. "And now I want a nap."
He turned off the video on her phone and handed it back to her. "How about this? I'll make us martinis, cut us some of one of those baguettes, and you can take as long a nap as you want. Deal?"
She moaned, coming around the crib and wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and kissing the side of his face. "I love you so hard, you absolute dreamboat."
He chuckled and squeezed her back. "Just remember this the next time I do something stupid."
When she pulled back, she smirked at him and leaned up to kiss him. "Mmm. Deal."
"Because that's bound to happen."
"Oh, I know. I didn't fall in love with you because you're perfect."
He gasped and got a cute, nasally laugh out of her for it. But she leaned up and kissed him again, ruffling his hair, almost as if to lave the bite of her teasing words. "Just bring me a baguette, you snark monster."
She giggled and went over to the bag. "Which one?"
"Uuuuh, not garlic. That's not conducive to making out." He gave her a crooked smile as she sent him raised eyebrows over her shoulder, making her way over to the entry table where she left the long, skinny bag with Chuck's bread in it.
"Presumptuous, aren't we?" she asked. She slid one of the baguettes out of the bag and came back into the kitchen where he met her, starting to go through the cupboard to grab the alcohol he needed. During Ellie's pregnancy, she hadn't set any sort of rule for her husband to not drink simply because she wasn't allowed to, but Devon had made the decision himself. It helped that he was such a health freak and didn't drink as much anyway, but after Clara was born and they'd moved back down to Los Angeles, Ellie had been quick to fill up her stock. She was a martini fan, just like Chuck was. And sometimes he thought she made an even better one than he did, but he'd never admit that to Sarah for fear he'd lose his martini cred with her.
"Mhm. Very presumptuous. When you're all sleepy and have one of my martinis in your hand, that's make-out primetime. You just, like, melt against me and it's incredibly cute and satisfying all at once." When he glanced to the side at her where she was expertly slicing the baguette, he spotted a blush on her cheeks.
"Sometimes it's a little annoying how much you know about me, merely by paying even the slightest bit of attention."
"Maybe," he chuckled. "But I pay attention."
She lifted her gaze to him as he picked up the drink shaker and shook it with one hand. "Mm. You do," she said quietly. "It's just one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you so easily. The way you picked up on those small things nobody had ever cared to notice about me. Granted, not that I let them."
"Why'd you let me?" he asked, pouring the mixture in each martini glass, setting it down, licking his fingers and turning to face her with a serious look on his face. "Why was I let in?"
She raised an eyebrow and stopped arranging the slices of bread onto the plate, facing him and leaning her hip against the counter. "I'm not sure I even knew I was doing it. I mean, I think it was unconscious. Maybe you're just that unassuming and charming. Or maybe…oh, I don't know." She nibbled her lip. "Can I tell you something without you thinking I'm kinda lame?"
Chuck laughed, leaning forward, a look of disbelief on his face. "Baby, you're easily the coolest person on the planet. In the whole universe. You're fuckin' rad."
She blushed again and giggled through her nose, shaking her head. "Towards the beginning of your case, I was doing what I usually do, checking up on the person who hired us—who hired Pinkerton, that is. Making sure we should actually be doing the work for them that they wanted us to do. Granted, that wasn't company policy. Pinkerton tends not to discriminate either way. Money is money, a case is a case. Obviously without crossing any sort of legal lines." Chuck assented with a single nod. "Hey, hand me that drink."
He handed it over with a chuckle and she sipped it, pleasure on her face like always.
"But I just did it for my own peace of mind maybe. And I spied a little, slinking around the different floors of B.E.C. and just listening to how your employees spoke to one another, both about the company and working there, and about you. About your father, too." She smiled quietly up at him, reaching up to stroke a hand through his hair. "I'd already caught myself flirting with you a few times by then, as dangerous as I knew it was. But hearing how much everyone wanted to come to work every day, how some of them were reluctant to leave for a weekend, like they wouldn't see their friends or-or family, as some of them seem to consider the people here, for a few days and how bummed they were about it, how much they wanted to do their best, no complaining about long hours or how much work it was…" She sighed and put her drink down, cupping his face, moving closer and pressing her chest against his. "The genuinely kind things they had to say about your dad, yes, but mostly about you. There was so much sincere respect there. They want success for you, for the company. And it was rampant across every floor, at every level, all the way down to the mail room, and the people who come in at the end of the day to do the cleaning and the maintenance. Some of them seemed stressed, yes, but they didn't seem to mind it. They were doing work they felt was important."
Chuck didn't know what to say, or how to even take the almost intense compliment, both from her and from his employees. So he just pressed his lips together in something of a smile and swallowed thickly, watching her pick up her martini and sip it again.
"I think maybe that was what made me open up the most, even if I didn't realize it was happening. Not just that I trusted you enough to be…me…in front of you. I wanted to connect, I wanted to be one of the people you…cared about. The way they all were. I wanted to be your friend—I mean, more than that, really. I wanted more than just friendship, but still. That's why I let you in, Chuck. You made me want to. Because it was safe, yeah, but also just because…I wanted to." She huffed and slid her hand over his neck, rubbing deliciously. "It sounds simple, but for me, it is…super complicated, very difficult. Doing something I want to do…it doesn't come easy for me. Especially something like that."
Chuck was careful of the martini she still held in her hand as he stepped in and kissed her, his fingers gently framing her jaw. When he pulled back a while later, his heart was still so full it was threatening to spill over.
"That's probably the most intensely nice thing anyone's ever said to me…about me."
She looked almost shy as she shrugged. "Well, it's true. And maybe hold onto that long enough for us to get over to the couch with our drinks and snacks, because I'm gonna need more of this kissing thing."
"Done."
They carried everything to the coffee table and snuggled up, sipping their martinis, snacking, while Sarah regaled him with the story of following Burgess' colleagues, how she'd overheard them make a meeting in the parking structure, tailed them there, and taken pictures of their exchange. And he let her fret a little over whether or not Casey was impressed or not with what she'd brought him, whether it was enough for him to want to consult with her again the next time he needed an extra hand outside of the LAPD.
As much as she teased about it, they only made out for a little while, before Sarah put her head in his lap, stretched out over the couch, and fell fast asleep, her martini glass empty, the bread gone.
Chuck just reveled in everything for a while, sitting there in silence, looking down at her, knowing how lucky he was, grateful for every last bit of herself his girlfriend gave him. He made a silent promise to himself as he gently stroked his hand over her hair, to never take any of this for granted, to never take her and what she meant to him and to his existence for granted. He promised ten times over, and as she shifted a bit in her sleep, snuggling her face into his thigh, he whispered a passionate, "I promise."
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! I've still got plenty of story left in me. I have so many ideas. This is not even close to the end. Please review, folks! Thanks!
-SC