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: Second part of "The Detective and the Rift" comin' at ya! Thanks for still reading. So much more to come. Enjoy this!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

He was woken up by the soft thump of his door shutting. And in spite of knowing it was the sound of his front door, and he was all the way up in his bed, it sounded like the door had literally shut with his head in it.

Chuck Bartowski groaned miserably, the pain in his head having sunk deep into his bones to the point that his shoulders felt like they'd been beaten by Thor's hammer.

He blinked his eyes open and emitted a pitiful whimper, putting a hand up to block his eyes from…light? Wherever it was coming from. God help him.

Just lying there for a few minutes, trying to keep his eyes open without his head splitting in two, wondering how he still felt a little dizzy-drunk, wondering what time it was, the events of the night before started seeping into his consciousness.

And he felt that much worse.

Not only was Ed Pasfield getting arrested for murder, his private investigator girlfriend had helped with the investigation. His parents were going to be sore at her for it, as if his mom didn't already have a bee in her bonnet when it came to Sarah. So he'd have that to deal with.

But somehow it all didn't feel as bad as the fact that he'd been overly reactionary, and his reaction had been to be a giant dick. Did he have a good reason to be mad at her? Yes. He thought so. She shouldn't have kept it from him. He wouldn't have told anyone else and she should've trusted him at least that much. But he'd been a shithead. Doubling down on how mad his parents were going to be at her, his dad especially, which had definitely upset her, then whining at her about how she put him in a tough spot.

And what else was she supposed to do? Protect a murderer? Ed had killed an innocent woman. Ed Pasfield, a guy who maybe hadn't been an uncle to him or anything that deep, but who'd been there to walk them through the legalities of starting a corporation, of keeping it on the right track.

She was Sarah Walker. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd gone into all of this level-headed, clear-minded, having walked herself through the potential repercussions. And she'd decided to seek justice for a murder victim. He wouldn't be so crazy about her if she wasn't the type of person who would make that decision exactly the way she'd made it.

It just meant this was gonna be rough for him to deal with. Rough for his parents to deal with.

It would be hard if Sarah hadn't been involved in the investigation.

But knowing she was there, helping the LAPD find that evidence…that would probably be hard for his parents to get past.

And that meant one of their Bartowski Family Meetings.

He'd heard it in his dad's tone of voice when he'd gotten off the phone. That 'Maybe we need to have a family meeting' tone he got sometimes when there was an issue. That would mean the four of them sitting down and hashing things out. Him, his dad, his mom, Ellie… He wasn't looking forward to it.

He even let out another groan at the thought of it, imagining a sort of intervention type setting.

Chuck heard the quiet squeak of the bedroom door open a few inches, but with how his head felt, it sounded like someone blew an airhorn directly into his ear for a good seven seconds straight.

He bit back a groan and carefully lifted his arm just a little to look out from under it at the door.

Sarah peeked around the door at him and smiled tentatively when she saw he was awake. "Hi," she said quietly, stepping inside all the way. So she had stayed with him after all. He'd figured she might, in spite of how mean he'd been the night before, because he was verging on very drunk when she'd put him to bed. She'd want to make sure he wasn't sick. And he was upset so she probably figured they'd have more to say to one another once he was sober.

Of course she was still here. And he was incredibly glad.

"Could you say that again, but this time without the megaphone?" he whined teasingly.

She snorted and crossed the room towards him. He unconsciously scooted to the side to make room for her to sit on the edge of the bed next to him and she did. At least she wasn't in a place of totally hating him. She could've slammed the door just to make him suffer and he'd deserve it probably.

"Hungover?" she asked, her hand landing on his shoulder. She rubbed there in a way that made him bite back a groan again, but this time because it felt so good.

"Is the sky blue?"

"Most of the time."

"Okay, well…Fine." She giggled at that. "I'm super hungover, though…" He paused, looking up at her, meeting her blue eyes with his literally hurting brown ones. "…and I'm a jackass."

"You're not a jackass, Chuck. You really shouldn't have had that much gin, though."

"Oh God, don't even say the word."

"Gin?"

He didn't bother biting back the groan this time and she slipped her soft, cool hand over his neck. That felt good, too. "Please keep your hand there," he begged.

"You got it," she giggled, rubbing comfortingly.

Chuck turned to look up at her through slitted eyes and sighed, draping his hand over her thigh. She was dressed for the day, he realized. Not just that, but she was wearing her full P.I. get-up. A sexy, black power suit—those pants that made her legs look extra long and the fitted blazer—and he let himself spare a moment to remember she'd been wearing a suit like this when he first met her two and a half years ago.

Really, it was just a black business suit. She just happened to look really sexy in these power suits. She was arresting in anything, but Sarah Walker in a power suit… He forced himself to focus again.

"You goin' somewhere?" he asked.

"Been somewhere." She sobered up then, looking down at her lap, and he put the pieces together.

"He was arrested this morning, then." She nodded. "Shit. Did you arrest him?"

"No." She ducked her head. "I was just part of the investigation. Detectives went to his Melrose condo and brought him in."

"Were you there?"

"No. I had no business being there. I went to the station to meet with Casey and some of the deputies. I'm most likely going to be called on to testify." She shut her eyes for a moment and sighed. "Chuck, I don't really know if I did the right thing. I mean, it's right that Sonia Zaoui's murderer is going to trial. But my being involved in the investigation, maybe—I dunno, maybe that wasn't the right thing."

Chuck just watched her quietly. He had follow up questions to that but even in this hungover, addled, pained state, he knew to just let her continue on her own terms, in her own time.

"Should I have pulled myself out of the investigation, Chuck? Should I have stopped and told Casey I had a conflict of interest?"

She paused long enough that he thought she was actually looking for an answer. His head hurt and he was still upset—though not really at her anymore—and he didn't know what to say here. So he just shook his head. "I don't know, Sarah. I obviously don't know how any of this works."

When he shifted to lie on his back so that he could look at her better, he was assailed by a bout of dizziness, and he shut his eyes tightly until it passed, blinking up at her again. She wordlessly grabbed some aspirin off the bedside table—he'd missed that before—and handed them to him. He obediently took them and swallowed the water she gave him after, lying back down and sighing. Maybe it was psychological but that already made him feel a bit better, his brain more settled.

"Look. You tell me," he said finally. "Was it a conflict of interest? Did the fact that you're dating me affect your work on the case?"

She sighed. "It's not that so much. When I have a job to do, a case to solve, I'm not going to let anything stop me." In spite of the seriousness of this situation, he couldn't help smiling up at her a little. He didn't say anything as she continued. "But I couldn't sleep last night because I kept thinking—wondering if I shouldn't have thought more about you, your dad, the rest of your family and the business."

Chuck frowned in question. "Sarah, I can't even imagine an alternate universe version of you letting a murderer go free if you've got the evidence that proves their guilt."

Sarah shook her head. "No. That isn't what I mean. I mean that my involvement in all of this is going to make things incredibly awkward and uncomfortable for your family, your dad especially. Casey's a good detective, and he has good people working with and for him. They would've gotten that evidence themselves eventually. This would've been hard for you all anyway, but I made it extra hard by being involved. The Pasfield camp won't be happy with you, knowing your girlfriend was one of the detectives rounding up the evidence." She huffed and winced, her hand coming to rest on his chest. "I didn't have to be a part of this case. And I chose to do it anyway. I'm afraid I made the wrong choice, a thoughtless choice."

He slowly slid his hand up and down her thigh reassuringly. "You're right, I guess. I mean about this making things awkward and uncomfortable for my family. But no matter what Ed's done to help us out, I can't and won't side with a murderer. I don't want to be connected to the Pasfield camp. I've had enough time to think and, uh, drink…" he winced at that, "and I have no doubt that you've found enough evidence to prove he's done this. I don't doubt you, Sarah."

"But you think I should have recused myself, let the LAPD handle it? And the FBI?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I don't want you to have to tiptoe around as a private investigator because of my family's connections to rich, powerful people. I don't want that to be a thing."

"What if that has to be a part of this, though?" she asked. "And that's just something I need to learn to deal with? A change I need to make to the way I operate as an investigator because I love you and care about your family and company?"

Chuck's heart swelled so intensely that he wondered if it might legitimately just explode in his chest.

"You know what I mean? I'm-I'm not in the same position I was in before this, before you. When I worked for Pinkerton, I was a single woman with no attachments, no ties or connections. I didn't have anybody." He frowned and she smirked a little, shaking her head. "I don't mean to incite pity or anything when I say that. I was perfectly happy. I just mean that made it so that I never had to worry about investigations and cases having any sort of effect on people I cared about. I never had to worry about having any conflict of interests—I had no interests besides justice, facts, solving crimes, getting to the bottom of a case."

He nodded.

She sighed, her fingers twisting a little in his shirt as she made a fist, her eyes casting off to the side thoughtfully. "This is new for me, having people. And so I just barreled into this case, did my job as well as I could, solved the case with the LAPD, passed on our work to the FBI…and I'm so used to not having to think about anybody or anything else that you Bartowskis just sort of…slipped my mind, I think. Not that I didn't think about you at all, but I just thought… justice must be served no matter who it affects," she announced in her version of a superhero voice, and she lifted her free arm in a Rosie the Riveter pose. It was cute and he squeezed her leg for it, the corner of his mouth tilting up as he watched her. "I don't know. I just feel like maybe I should've paused first, and thought about how my involvement in this would look super terrible for you all, for your dad and you."

Her hand let go of his shirt and she dragged it up to cup his jaw gently. "I'm sorry I was reckless. I'm sorry I'm causing you all trouble. And I hope this doesn't fuck up things for B.E.C.'s reputation, your reputation, with all those other guys you have to do business with."

Chuck lifted an exceptionally heavy hand and draped it over hers on his jaw. "Thank you, Sarah. Thank you for saying all of that." He slipped his fingers around hers and held her hand against his chest, squeezing. "I still don't know that I want you to have to step out of investigations for me. For us—the family and company. You're a seeker of truth and justice, like a superhero." She gave him a look. "Okay, fine. Fine. I know you hate when I compare you to a superhero. You're a hero, though, and I stand by that. I want you to keep doing the right thing, and not shut yourself out of a case if it might be incriminating to one of our lawyers, or someone else connected to us."

"This is going to suck a lot for you."

"My dad especially, yeah."

"He probably hates me."

"No. I think he wants answers, probably. And he's probably confused and maybe feeling a little betrayed." He winced. "I shouldn't say that, I don't want to make you feel bad, but I'm just being honest with you."

She nodded, hurt. "Yeah, I know. I hate that I've let him down."

Chuck sat up, swaying a little and putting a hand to his forehead. But she was there, one hand on his bicep, the other at the back of his neck, holding him steady until it passed. He framed her face in his hands and looked directly into her eyes. "You didn't let him down. You didn't let any of us down. Sonia Zaoui deserves justice, and she deserves the best detective there is seeking out the truth behind her murder, finding the culprit. There's no doubt in my mind that's you, Sarah Walker, P.I. You haven't let anyone down. We have some shit to deal with now, yeah, but maybe…" He sighed, shaking his head and letting go of her, just sitting there with his shoulders slumped, thinking about the implications of all of this.

He was dating a private investigator. A really good private investigator. She was brilliant, hardworking, determined, and tough. And Detective John Casey at the LAPD recognized that, wanted that sort of a weapon in his arsenal against murderers and other types of criminals. Chuck was a Bartowski. He belonged to one of the richest families in the country, and they had a lot of power, which meant they also had plenty of powerful friends. The fact that she hadn't been involved in an investigation into one of those acquaintances or connections before was… Well, it was only a matter of time, wasn't it? Just so happened, this was an especially heinous situation. Someone they knew, someone close enough to them that this stung really bad, had killed another human being and hid from it for three years.

Maybe this was something he was going to have to realize. Something he was going to have to brace for. Dating Sarah Walker, P.I. might mean he would have to deal with situations like this. God, hopefully not exactly like this. This was insane. This was cold-blooded murder.

"Sarah, you don't have to do all the work here," he breathed. She frowned in question, her brow furrowed. "Maybe I need to carry some water." He shook his head and sighed. "Sorry, my brain hurts and the thing that's…surrounding it. Actually, like, my skin hurts too, honestly. And my face. And I'm having a hard time…wording." She smiled affectionately and stroked his cheek. "I'm gonna try anyway, though. What I'm trying to say is that this might just be the new reality for me. That sometimes your investigations are gonna run into…my life, the people I know through my career. Maybe there's gonna be some clash there—like this now, but maybe something else in the future too, I dunno. I never even imagined that'd be a thing, but here we are. It's a…reality check, not gonna lie."

She nibbled on the inside of the cheek. "This is going to be harder than either of us thought, isn't it?" she asked. "I mean, this relationship. Not that it's been a walk in the park—we've dealt with some shit."

"Feels like there's always something," he admitted, smiling softly. "But we're getting through all of it. And coming out the other side stronger. 'Least that's how I feel about it."

"Me, too," she said eagerly, nodding, scooting closer to him and slipping her hand around his hip, rubbing him there. She fixed him with an earnest stare, waiting for him to meet her gaze before she continued. "Listen, you don't have to…carry water, Chuck. Okay?"

"Yes, I do. Your career is important, too. Your reputation as a P.I., yeah, but also this relationship you're building with the LAPD. That's important. I'm fucked up in the head about Ed and about Sonia. It's all fucked. But I'm not letting you take the blame for the fall-out, whether it affects the Bartowski name and company or not. I don't think it will. Whatever connections we have are on the books, legal, and out in the open." He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her a little closer to him. "I don't know what's gonna happen with this, Sarah. But if this is going to be a difficult piece of our relationship—this magnificent alliance between a detective and a tech guy…" That got a smile out of her and he smiled back, for just a moment, before he became serious again. "It's gonna be something we need to figure out how to handle, deal with. Together."

"Yeah," she said with a long sigh and a nod of her head.

"Are you willing to work on it with me?" he asked. "Because I'm ready for this. I was thinking a lot last night, too…between swigs of gin, which wasn't a great idea in hindsight." He winced and she pouted a little in sympathy. "I'm gonna have to go to bat for you. I don't know if it's gonna be against my parents or…somebody else, now or in the future. Not just 'cause you're my girl, but because you're in the right with this."

"I'm still not sure I am. I'm not sure I shouldn't have just let Casey and his people do this."

"And that's okay. I can't tell you either way. This is your career, your case. I'm still a little out of sorts and definitely very hungover. I'm not feeling like I want to blame you for that, though, hungover or not. The part where you hid it from me, though, that doesn't feel good. I felt kind of broadsided with that."

Regret and guilt spilled over her features. "That I know was the wrong decision. And I'm sorry. I should've trusted you, whether Casey does or not. That was a mistake. And it isn't one I'll be making again, Chuck."

He nodded. "Apology accepted. Will you forgive me for lashing out last night and saying mean shit to you? Even with how I was feeling, that wasn't right. I apologize for it."

"Apology accepted," she said with no small amount of warmth in her features.

"We tackle this together?"

"Absolutely. And if your parents want to talk to me, I'll face that head on. I don't want you to have to take the punches for me, my decision to get involved in the investigation."

Chuck gave her a dreamy look. "You're so brave."

Sarah laughed lightly, as much as was appropriate considering their current predicament, and the severity of the crime that had occurred.

"I'll be right there with you, backing you up. If you want me to be. If you need me to be."

She nodded.

They were mid-hug, Sarah's arms so comforting wrapped around him, her hands massaging the muscles in his upper back as she clung, when he heard his phone buzz with a text on his nightstand. "Can you see who it is without breaking our hug?" he asked, his voice muffled by the collar of her blazer.

He felt her strain a little in his arms as she tried to spot the name that popped up on his phone. "Your mom. Can't read it, though."

Chuck sighed and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. "I'm just gonna stay here like this for a bit, if that's okay."

She sniffed in amusement and held on tighter. "Works for me."

"And then I'll shower and eat and get rid of this hangover before I even look at the text."

"Okay, Chuck."

His phone buzzed again and he just sighed, burying himself deeper in Sarah's arms.

And so it begins…

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She felt so foolish as she checked her phone for the thirty-seventh time since she woke up that morning.

In spite of her saying she didn't want Chuck taking punches for her decision, screening her from the consequences with the rest of the Bartowskis, he was meeting his family today alone. He had asked her if she could let him handle this one discussion on his own, without her being there as a potential punching bag—his words. Recognizing how sincere he was when he asked her and knowing he was just trying to protect her, she consented.

But she hated this. She wished she'd gone anyway.

She could stick up for herself, and she could apologize to them for the way her involvement in the Pasfield investigation was affecting them. She wanted to apologize to them, even if she stood by the evidence they'd uncovered, even if she stood by the arrest that was made the morning before.

Anyway, the Pasfield estate had no problem bailing him out before noon even, and now he sat closely watched at home, awaiting whatever came next. And while she'd been terrified Stephen might make do on what he'd said he would do to Chuck on the phone that first night, putting up the bail money, he had not. Thank God. That was Chuck's influence. But she also thought the elder Bartowski man was smarter than that, and he had the company, and most importantly his family, to protect.

She was ready to face Stephen, atone for the decision she made, apologize where she needed to apologize, but also be unmoving when it came to the results of the investigation. He needed to know that his lawyer and friend was a murderer. He was Chuck's father, so she imagined being faced with the reality of what Pasfield did would shake him to his core, but he'd not throw all his support behind the man anymore.

Sarah had to believe that.

At the end of everything, the LAPD had discovered the motive, and it made Sonia's death all the more unsettling and unjust. She'd been a pawn in a blackmail game. The FBI was decidedly involved now. She'd been threatened and forced to make a few visits to his property that was adjacent to Anthony Rennie's, and she'd recorded their meetings, feeding it to one of Pasfield's law partners who wanted him out. When Pasfield had discovered the recording device on her last visit, he'd strangled her in a fit of panic and anger.

It was a mess, so much messier than she'd figured.

And the details had broken out into the news. Casey had no idea where the leak had come from. It was a clusterfuck of assumptions and condemnation and some outlets making Sonia look worse than Pasfield for her "chosen profession".

That would make Chuck's meeting with his parents and sister today a lot more interesting. She just hoped they didn't gang up on him.

Her relationship wasn't in danger. The youngest Bartowski was made up of stronger stuff than to ever let that happen. She would never forget the way he'd been drunk, on the verge of passing out, his voice a bit muffled against his pillow, and he'd told her he'd choose her over everything else.

It was clearly implied over his family even.

But that thought made her feel uneasy. She never wanted him to be in that situation.

What she'd told him when he woke up with that bad hangover was the honest to God truth. She wasn't sure still if she should have backed off the case and let LAPD handle it by themselves. She knew her actions had caused a rub between the Bartowskis and others in their circles.

And how many of those people would be unsettled by the youngest Bartowski dating a "cop"?

This was something she was sure neither of them had accounted for when she first got the idea to start her own agency.

She checked her phone again. Thirty-eight…

Chuck still hadn't texted her. She was worried about him.

He already had to deal with shit from his mom because of whom he was dating. This would increase that pressure tenfold. Mary had fodder now, besides the age-old "she just wants you for our money" shtick.

But it wasn't even his fault. And she was afraid that this might cause a rift between Chuck and his dad. She couldn't be the reason for that. She'd go to Stephen herself, whether Chuck wanted her to or not, and do whatever she could to heal the rift if that was the case.

And in spite of Chuck's support and insistence that he never wanted her to feel like she shouldn't or couldn't take a case because of him, his family, or his career, she had that ever-increasing sensation that she'd bungled things.

Casey would've found the same evidence she found eventually. The feds were the ones who had the subpoena powers to get Pasfield's phone records. That wasn't her. The low-key interviews she'd conducted as a private investigator had been instrumental, however. She could talk to people when cops and badge-wielding detectives tended to scare them off. Escorts had known about Sonia's visits to Pasfield's property, and they'd described to her how their peer suddenly clammed up about it out of nowhere.

And should she just text Chuck to check on him? Maybe she should just reach out and see if he needed her or something.

She couldn't even get any work done and wasn't sure why she'd even bothered heading into the office today. She'd just be sitting here like a wound-up stress ball. Waiting.

At least at home she could clean things, find stuff to do.

Sarah sat up and turned to stare at the small cabinet in the corner. There was some of that Pledge stuff and a few rags from when she first moved into this office months ago. She could dust around this place, too, couldn't she?

She got up and went over to grab a rag and the Pledge spray, then busied herself with wiping down every wooden surface in the outside office and in her own office, horizontal surfaces and vertical surfaces. Anything to busy herself so that she didn't have a meltdown over the "Bartowski Family Meeting" in which she would undoubtedly be the main subject.

Just as she was going over the nonexistent-assistant's desk for the third time, she heard her phone going off in her office. Rushing so fast she nearly turned her ankle in her pumps, she cursed and snatched up her phone, half-falling on top of her desk as she answered it. "Hello?" she gasped.

"Walker?" Damn it. Casey. "You chasin' a perp or something?"

"No. I was just…in the other room. Expecting an important call."

He grunted. "As opposed to this unimportant call. Gee, thanks."

She rolled her eyes. "What can I help you with, Detective Casey?"

"Just wanted to let you know they're gonna issue a subpoena for you when Pasfield faces trial next month. I'll be getting one, as well as two of my deputies."

Sarah nodded even though he couldn't see it. "Yeah, I figured that'd be the case. Those interviews I conducted will be part of the prosecution's case. You think they'll be able to get some of the women I talked with to appear at court?"

"Prosecution's sure gonna try."

"Hm. Not sure how I feel about that. I mean, their testimony is instrumental to putting a murderer behind bars, but…it…I dunno…" She'd allowed herself to slip a little and overlook the fact that she was talking to an LAPD detective. She stopped.

"It puts a target on 'em. Yep. I know. We'll see what happens there."

She was sort of surprised. She hadn't expected him to say what she'd been about to say. And maybe she misjudged him. Maybe he deserved the benefit of the doubt. Not that she hated cops or anything. It was an interesting dichotomy between police and Pinkerton detectives. Always had been.

And maybe she had to try to divest herself from that mindset.

"Well, thanks for the call. I'll be ready when they need me."

"Keep your notes."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yeah, thanks. I worked for Pinkerton. I've been subpoenaed more times than you could possibly even begin to imagine."

"Well, excuse me," he drawled sarcastically. And then there was a long pause. "There's one more thing."

The way he said it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and she moved to sit fully on her desk, just in case. "What is it?"

"I know you've been fencing a bit, trying to keep this investigation away from the Bartowskis—for obvious reasons." Sarah shut her eyes and silently cursed. Of course he'd noticed, as subtle as she'd been about it. He was a good detective. "Highly irregular and probably not too professional, if I'm bein' honest. So I feel like I need to tell you that I had one of my guys do some digging anyway."

She blanched, her sheepishness gone in a flash. "Behind my back?"

"Hey, you're a P.I., Walker. My job is to carry out a full investigation. Stephen J. Bartowski donated personal money to Pasfield's city council campaign. …And he was in contact with Pasfield's lawyers after the arrest, too."

Sarah felt weak. Damn it, Stephen. The men in that family were so damn rash when it came to helping their people, and it was a testament to their good hearts, but God damn, sometimes it was so rash and stupid. "All right, fine. And what did he discover, this digger of yours?"

"…Nothin' at all. FBI will be leavin' the Bartowskis out of this completely. Not even anticipating Stephen will be getting subpoenaed. They haven't utilized Pasfield's services for over five years now, and they're the cleanest fuckin' corp I've ever seen in my life. I mean, honestly, sometimes we look the other way with the little things these rich bastards pull, but when I say B.E.C.'s clean, I mean it's squeaky clean. It's…weird."

Relief spilled through her. It wasn't that she was worried the Bartowskis weren't clean. She knew Chuck wasn't the type to screw people over to fatten his own wallet. She watched him shovel vast amounts of his own wealth at people living without his privileges. She saw how badly he wanted to create community programs to help at-risk youth. He wasn't here for the money. He was here because he loved technology and he loved helping people. Stephen was just a tamer version of his son.

But she knew corporations all too well from her time with Pinkerton. And they did have little loopholes and other things they'd find that would make operating their business easier. And sometimes while it was still technically "legal", it was in pretty bad faith and crooked. She wasn't sure she wanted to know if Chuck or his dad had any of those skeletons in their B.E.C. closet.

Turned out they didn't.

She was genuinely in awe of those men. In complete awe of them.

"I could've told you that," she said, unable to keep the cockiness out of her voice.

"That was almost worse than an 'I told you so' and I'd like to remind you, you still tried to protect a party that could've been involved, could've really put a wrench in the investigation," he grumbled.

"Yeah. I did. If I said I was sorry for it, I'd be lying. I'm not sorry. I know them. They're my people."

"Hmng. Just like Ed Pasfield was your boyfriend's people?"

Sarah clenched her jaw. "I know you think you have a point there, Casey, but my relationship with the Bartowskis is different from what they had with Pasfield. And I stand by that. And them. You should know, I'll continue to protect them. I believe in the rule of law, even though I'm not altogether happy about some of the laws out there. I believe in upholding it. But I'll protect my people with my last breath if I have to."

"Fiercely loyal. It's a good quality, Walker. I just hope they never let ya down. People have a tendency to let ya down…in the end. It's human nature."

She frowned deeply. "I know that all too well," she murmured.

But Chuck Bartowski wasn't letting her down. He would never. She'd found someone as loyal to her as she was to him. And in spite of knowing she'd never ask him to, she was equally sure that he'd put her above everything and everyone else if it came down to it. Just as she'd do for him.

"Yeah. Well. Watch your step." There was a pregnant pause. "They still talkin' to ya after you investigated their ol' lawyer pal?"

"Jury's still out on that," she admitted. "But Chuck's working on it."

"Loyal secretary you got there."

"Stop," she drawled, unable to keep the amusement out of her tone.

He snickered. "You did the right thing, kid. Sonia Zaoui deserves justice. Her family deserves justice. You did the right thing," he repeated, emphasizing the words in case she didn't soak it in the first time she heard him say it.

"Thanks for saying that."

"Hmng. I'll be in touch."

Before she could say anything in response, she heard the click from him hanging up.

Maybe she really had done the right thing, but the consequences weren't feeling too good. And she still had no word from Chuck on how all of that was going. She cursed out loud and dropped her phone onto her desk.

Then she grabbed the cloth and Pledge and picked up where she left off.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Ellie was already there when he arrived. She sat on one of their parents' plush chairs in the living room with a look of quiet frustration on her face. And when he walked in, she lifted her green eyes from her lap to eye him closely. He couldn't get any kind of read on her as she sighed and stood to walk over and meet him.

Chuck wrapped his arms around his sister and squeezed her tight. He wasn't sure what was going to happen here today and she'd always been a pretty good source of strength for him.

As they pulled away and she patted his shoulder supportively, he looked down at the coffee table. His mom had set up some finger sandwiches and lemonade.

If only he had a flask with rum in it. He could sneak some into his glass and be better prepared for this situation. Though, he wasn't sure a few swigs of rum would be enough.

And by the look on Ellie's face, she was probably in the same boat.

He knew she hated these "talks" just as much as he did, if not more. In the past, they'd had one of these about Captain Awesome, orchestrated by their mother. And it had resulted in Ellie yelling, their dad trying to calm everyone down, Chuck trying to get a word in to support the doctor his sister had eloped with, and their mom using that I'm-Not-The-Bad-Guy-Here voice of hers.

"Oh hi, sweetie," his mom said as she swept in. She was wearing jeans and a blazer over a bright blouse—a power move if he ever saw one. And then he inwardly scoffed at himself. A power move? This wasn't his foe; it was his mother. He highly doubted she got dressed today thinking, "What's the best way to make sure I can lord my superiority over my children?" She wasn't a douchebag tech bro like the guys he'd tried to avoid in college. Even if she did have faults…plenty of them. And it seemed like she got more as she grew older.

He inwardly winced at that thought. It was a good thing she couldn't read minds.

"Hi, Mom."

She came over and kissed him on the cheek, and he responded with wrapping an arm around her and giving her a squeeze. "Dad here?" he asked, scratching behind his ear nervously.

"Of course he is. Went out back for a second to talk to one of his other lawyers…" She paused, her eyes flicking away as she bent to set napkins down on the table. "Since the one he'd normally be consulting with during a time like this was apparently arrested yesterday."

Chuck winced. It was a well-aimed barb and he felt it in his chest.

Yes, FOR MURDER, he wanted to say. But now wasn't the time to be getting into it. Not until everyone was in the room and they started coming after Sarah. He had to stay strong, sit up straight, not let himself get pushed around. They were a family of big brains, and yes, big hearts too. But he had to step lightly and also carry a big stick. Or whatever that phrase was. Maybe he'd combined a few phrases.

Oh, this wasn't even starting out well in his own damn head.

"Sit, sit…" his mom said, then, gently guiding him to sit on the couch. Ellie took her seat back in the chair she'd been in when he came in, and his mom sat in the chair opposite her, leaning forward to pick up her lemonade and sip it as if nothing was wrong.

The silence was deafening, uncomfortable, tense. And Chuck just wanted to do away with the weird pretense that everything was normal, that they were just going to talk about everyone's week like they normally would during a weekend family dinner. A little politics, a little shop talk, something about this or that movie or TV show, the neighbors, construction on some freeway…

So he sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees, letting out a long breath. "Sarah wanted to come but I asked her not to," he said.

"Why?" Ellie asked.

"Because this is a family meeting, Eleanor," his mom said, crossing her legs and setting her lemonade back down.

"Oh, is that why I had to leave my husband and daughter at home, too?" his sister shot back.

"Whoa, whoa. Hey, let's not get off on this particular foot. Please." He sent Ellie a pleading look and she sighed and sat back against her chair with a shrug. "I asked Sarah not to come, even though she wanted to be here to talk to the family and answer questions and…Well, I asked her not to come because when she's here with us, I tend to…filter myself." He could feel the curious look from his mom and the confused look from his sister. He didn't even have to look at them. He just knew. "I'm constantly performing this balancing act, afraid some barbs will fly—from you in particular, Mom—and trying to tiptoe, trying to be as proud and supportive of Sarah as I can be without inciting some sort of crap from this side of the table." He huffed. "I'm just on edge. I have to be careful about what I say when she's here. At least, that's how I feel. So I decided at least with her not present, I could really say what I feel about her, and about this whole situation, without her…hearing it. Without hedging my words."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Is that really how she makes you feel?"

"No, Mom. It's how you make me feel. Honestly, this shouldn't even be an issue. I should be able to have my girlfriend come to dinner with my family without being on edge. It isn't her. It's how you act around her. I shouldn't have to feel like I need to pick teams. I should be able to love my girlfriend and enjoy spending time with her and my family at the same time."

His dad walked in just then and held a hand out. "Whoa, whoa. This started without me, and already we're at each other's throats." He looked miffed, nervous, unsettled. And he was unshaven. It bothered Chuck to the deepest depths of his soul to see his dad so unkempt and unnerved. Not that the guy was normally Georgio Armani or anything, but he looked like a nervous wreck.

He tugged at his sweatshirt nervously and moved to sit in the chair opposite Chuck, and he definitely felt like he'd accidentally fallen into a trap, him sitting on the couch with his family now surrounding and facing him.

"I didn't come here for an intervention," Chuck said immediately.

"Son, this isn't an intervention. We just want to have a talk, that's all. A family talk."

Chuck thought of shrugging, but he stopped himself short. A shrug wasn't appropriate for this situation. Sonia Zaoui was murdered three years ago, her murder unsolved for all of that time until this week, and now the murderer was out on bail awaiting trial. The fact that he was even given a bail amount was a testament to the stronghold rich powerful men had on the justice system. He was arrested for murder, for God's sake.

"All right," he said instead. "Let's talk."

"I'll go first. Why in the hell did Sarah think it was appropriate to involve herself in an investigation of someone who is not only an ally to this family, but a friend as well?" his mom started, crossing her arms.

Really just came out swinging, didn't she? Chuck frowned deeply and collected his thoughts. He needed to be precise and smart. And he wasn't going to make excuses for Sarah. He would explain but he wouldn't make excuses. It was demeaning, belittling, and disrespectful.

"Now, Mary, come on," Stephen said. "We don't even know if she was made aware of Ed's connection with our family or company. The LAPD asked her to help with the case and that's part of what she does now. It's good for her agency to have that partnership with the LAPD." He then turned and looked pointedly at Chuck.

Ah, so it was his turn. Little did his dad know, he'd really just made answering that much more difficult for him.

"You're right, Dad, it is good for Walker Investigative Enterprises. I mean, it's good for Sarah to be partnered with the LAPD on some cases. And it says a lot for the respect Detective Casey has for her ability to contribute that he continues to bring her in on cases here and there. She's well-respected at the station." He sat up straighter, incapable of keeping himself from feeling a small prick of pride in his chest. But he kept the satisfaction from showing in his face. Now wasn't the time for that. "But Casey did tell her Ed was our lawyer for a while. And he told her you donated to Ed's city council campaign a few years ago."

His dad frowned deeply and shifted in his chair in discomfort. "Oh."

"Mmm. That's interesting," his mom felt it necessary to hum.

"Stop it," Chuck admonished carefully, sending her a look. "Sarah is a professional, before everything else—"

"Before everything else," Mary said again, leaning forward. "So before Charles Bartowski's girlfriend, she's a professional. She couldn't let the LAPD have the glory of bringing in the corporate lawyer. She just needed to be involved."

"That's a ridiculous thing to say, Mom. Really. Are you listening to yourself?" he asked. His dad tried to intercede but he sent him a look to shut him up. "No, let me just say this," he added, watching Stephen sit back in his chair before spinning to look back at his mom. He told himself to not show his anger. She would feed off of it and perhaps use that to make him seem too passionate and emotionally invested to see reason where Sarah's actions were concerned. He wasn't giving her that. "I have never met anyone in my entire life who has as little interest in glory and attention and accolades as Sarah Walker. Not as a Pinkerton agent, and not as a P.I." He scooted to the end of his seat and faced his mom better. "You probably don't know this, but when she was still with the Pinkerton Detective Agency, she had the highest success rate of any of the other detectives there. She led teams in high-profile cases and she very rarely took vacations—which meant she worked and directed teams on cases back to back, consistently. You know who showed up at the podium for press conferences? Her bosses. Guys in suits. You know who got the ribbons and badges of honor and whatever else useless shit they give out to their detectives? Jackasses who worked under her on cases. Did she ever once whine or complain to me about it? Nope. Know why? It isn't about that for her. People are still alive because she did a good job. Families still have their livelihoods because of her hard work. Murderers, thieves, con artists, are behind bars where they can't hurt anyone. That's what the work she does is about."

Stephen nodded and sighed heavily. "You're right, son. I believe that. But her being involved in Ed's investigation, the hard work she did to pin this crime on him, has the potential to do genuine damage to us. Our reputation amongst our peers. You realize that, don't you?"

Chuck nodded. "Of course I realize that, Dad. I care about this family, our company, and our reputation as much as you all do. And you know that."

"You think you could maybe instill that same awareness in your girlfriend, Chuck?" his mom snarked.

"Mary," Stephen admonished. "That kind of BS is exactly how we're going to lose the ability to have an adult conversation about this situation."

"Let's actually call this situation what it is, though, Dad. We are all aware of what the situation is, and yet we keep calling it 'the situation'," Chuck said, using air quotes. "The LAPD uncovered a boat-load of evidence that pointed to Ed as the murderer of an innocent woman. Because she was the pawn in an attempted and failed blackmailing attempt. On top of that, there is an FBI investigation into Ed's actions as a city councilman—some illegal trading, laundering. That's the situation. There's evidence, and a lot of it. And…sure, the trial hasn't happened yet, and won't for a month, but Ed's a murderer."

His dad looked miserable as he stared down at his lap, his hands folded together. He looked older than Chuck had ever seen him look before. He wasn't yet sixty, but Stephen J. Bartowski finally looked his age in this moment. And tired. So tired.

Chuck hated Ed Pasfield suddenly. With a passion.

He bit that back. For his dad's sake.

"It's so hard to believe all of this is true. And I didn't. But I-I think it is. Even though I never saw him as a man capable of…those things." He held up his hands in defeat. "I know, Charles. But I just can't say it yet. Not out loud. It's hard."

Chuck nodded. "I know, Dad. And it's okay. I didn't mean to be so rough. I just feel like Sarah's getting the brunt of this, but we need to realize a woman was murdered three years ago, and Ed did it. Sarah had nothing to do with that."

"It isn't that," Stephen said, looking up at his son again. "The LAPD is more than capable of solving a case like this—"

"Without Sarah getting herself involved," Mary interrupted.

Chuck clenched his jaw. "She didn't get herself involved. Detective Casey needed a skilled and experienced investigator on his team so he asked her to help. In case anyone's forgotten, an innocent woman was murdered."

"You're right. And we can't ignore that," his dad said. "But my point is that she could have let the LAPD handle it. She's connected to us through you; that's the reality of things. And to have someone connected to us be a big part of an investigation that puts our lawyer and friend in prison…that's very damaging, Charles. Maybe it-it shouldn't be, but it is."

"The damage was done when Ed Pasfield murdered someone, Dad."

"That may be. But Sarah isn't just a Pinkerton detective anymore, son. She's dating Charles Bartowski, heir and future CEO of the Bartowski Electronics Corporation."

"Who she is dating shouldn't have any bearing on whether or not she does her job," Chuck countered.

"She didn't have to pick this job," Mary argued. "I understand Sarah wants to be a successful private detective, and that's fine. I support her goals." Chuck sent her a flat look for that, and he felt Ellie doing the same. "I do!" his mom snapped defensively. "But this case didn't need her name on it."

"Right, because her name is connected to ours," Stephen said. "Through you." Chuck just shook his head in annoyance. "Look, Charles, I admire Sarah. You know I do. She is good at her job. She has honor and a moral compass. I don't begrudge her for wanting to solve a murder. I don't begrudge her at all, in fact. I just…wish she'd talked to us before she…signed up to be a part of it." He twisted his hands in his lap, squirming in discomfort. "It looks terrible for us."

"Being friends with a murderer and fraud looks terrible for us, Dad. I think we should be more worried about our connection with Ed than our connection with Sarah."

"I'm not worried about our connection with Sarah. I like her. She makes you happy. I'm not telling you what to do here. I'm just explaining how I feel about this. I don't think she should have taken the case."

"Sonia Zaoui deserved the most thorough investigation possible, and Sarah is the best at what she does. She deserved nothing less than that," Chuck said, trying but realizing he was failing at not letting the anger seep into his words. This all just felt so frustrating and unjust. And he felt annoyed with himself as he realized this was probably how Sarah had felt that first night when he'd come at her…but worse.

"Chuck, she has more to think about than that," his mom said. "If she wants the benefits of being a part of this family, this team—because that's what we are, what we've always been…a team—then she needs to be a team player."

"Oh God, seriously?" Chuck heard Ellie grouse under her breath.

"No, I mean it," Mary said, holding her hand up towards her daughter. She turned to Chuck again. "You're right. That poor woman didn't deserve to be murdered, no matter what her job was. And she deserved a thorough investigation into her murder. She deserved justice three years ago, let alone now. If Ed really murdered her—and as much as it hurts to admit it, it's looking a lot like he did—then he deserves to be put in prison for his actions. But at the same time, it can also be true that Sarah should have put you before her need to be a part of that investigation."

Chuck huffed and pushed his hands through his hair. "I don't like that. I hate it. I hate even the idea of telling her she has to choose between me and doing her job the way she sees fit."

"But what if that's the reality of dating someone as high-profile as a member of the Bartowski family?" Mary asked. "I'm not just saying this because of my…past criticisms of her, either. I don't like the idea of a murderer walking free, whether he helped our company in the past or not. It's not about that. But we have people in our circles who aren't going to trust us, who won't want to do business with us, because Stephen and Mary's youngest is dating a private investigator who seemingly has no qualms about investigating her boyfriend's allies and business associates." Chuck opened his mouth to snap at her, correct her, defend Sarah, but she rushed on. "She looks disloyal, Chuck. And I don't want her letting someone off because they have ties to us. I'm not asking for that kind of loyalty. You know I'm not like that. But she could've just stayed out of this and let someone else round up the evidence. Ed would've been caught with or without her. The only difference is that without her involvement, we wouldn't currently be fielding questions about who our son's gotten himself involved with."

Chuck scoffed. "This isn't on me. And it isn't on Sarah. If people in our circles are going to judge us because Sarah's helped put a murderer behind bars, then fuck 'em. Fuck 'em!"

"Chuck—"

"No! Maybe we should get some new circles," he interrupted his dad.

Tense silence pervaded the room, then. And finally, Ellie spoke up to his left.

"Nobody's asked me, but since I'm here, I'd like to say something. Give my two cents' worth, as it were."

She was quiet for a few seconds, moving to sit straighter in her chair and looking around at all three of them. "I think Sarah should've been allowed to be here for this," she said. "And the fact that we cut her out—no matter if your reasoning was noble or whatever," she said when Chuck tried to defend his decision. "—means she has no way of defending herself. Chuck, I get it. You wanted to take the punches for her. Sweet, but kind of antiquated, don't you think? That woman's faced bullets and I'm sure a shit ton of misogynist fuckery in her career in a male-dominated industry. You don't think she's capable of sitting on that couch and dealing with our parents' elitist Team Player nonsense?" she asked, looking right at him. Her green eyes were like daggers but her words were worse.

Shit.

"It wasn't about that. Of course she's capable. She could handle anything, Ellie. I have a hard time…saying what I mean to you all when she's here because I don't want her to…" He searched for the right words.

"What? Hear you speaking some truths? Sticking up for her?" She waved her hand dismissively then. "But she isn't here, so…whatever, I guess. What's really upsetting to me is that it's starting to sort of sound like we're insinuating that Sarah doesn't care about this family or our reputation. And come on, we all know that's utter bullshit."

Chuck blinked at her as she leaned forward and continued.

"As though she went into this like 'fuck what happens to my boyfriend's family, justice must prevail!' or something. A woman was murdered. The hell is Sarah supposed to do? Tell the police detective she can't work with him because she's dating someone in a well-connected family? That makes her look super professional. And honestly, I'm almost appalled that you'd use the whole 'she put her job before you' thing on Chuck. That's pretty manipulative, Mom. Even for you."

"Excuse me?" his mom piped up, obviously having had enough of Ellie's tongue-lashing. "I am not manipulative."

"Yes, you are. Just own it, Mom. I know Sarah Walker. Maybe she's dating Chuck, but she's also my friend. And there isn't anything on this planet that she'd put before my brother. You're her priority, Chuck. You know that, right?"

A little speechless, he nodded. Of course he knew that, but to hear his sister put it so bluntly and so sincerely… He was glad he was sitting.

"Good," she continued. "And I think Chuck's right. Maybe our circles suck if they're going to be critical of us over Sarah being part of the investigation into an innocent woman's murder simply because the accused helped us keep B.E.C. honest."

"It isn't as easy as you make it seem, Ellie," their dad said, seeming to at least be taking in what Ellie was saying. "This is the world we live in now. Keeping up appearances is-is important. And Sarah's involvement in that case looks really, really bad."

"No, Dad, that's the thing. I get that this is the world we live in. We aren't just the Bartowskis in a small suburb outside of LA anymore. We're the Bartowskis of Bartowski Electronics Corporation. We've entered into this upper echelon and there's a code of conduct all the way up here." She affected a bit of a mocking haughtiness as she held her hand up above her head. "We protect each other from the law."

"That isn't what this is and you know it," Mary snapped. "Your father and I aren't promoting a guilty man go free. As hurtful as it is to know we've lost a friend in this—"

"Sonia Zaoui lost her life. Her kid lost their mom."

Mary frowned and nodded. "I know. I didn't mean to sound dismissive."

"I know, Mom," Ellie sighed. "And I know that none of this makes you and Dad bad people. That isn't what I'm saying. I'm also not saying that your business associates, the people you hobnob with at these galas and events and conferences, are bad people, either. But…" She huffed in frustration, obviously looking for the right words. "Maybe this new society we've ingratiated ourselves into now that we're super rich and successful with B.E.C. expects this particular brand of loyalty that means protecting your own even in the face of criminal behavior. But I think we're better than that. I think we're capable of operating differently from these people. Why are we letting them dictate whether or not Sarah's involvement in the Pasfield investigation is loyalty to our family?" She eyed all three of them, and Chuck smiled at her. It seemed to buoy her further. "We have the power to define loyalty on our own. We can believe in a brand of loyalty that's different from theirs. Because in my mind, what Sarah did was exceptionally loyal."

The dad hung his head for a bit. "So… What, we just cut ourselves off from everyone?"

"No! God, Dad, of course not," Ellie said. She seemed to be looking at Chuck for help now. He knew where she was going with all of this. At least, he thought he did.

"What she said. We can rise above this and continue operating on the moral high ground. Not smack Sarah down as disloyal because she took part in the investigation to solve this murder, but appreciate her determination to do what's right in the face of what could potentially mean people judge her for not…slipping into the mold of what's expected from 'Chuck Bartowski's girlfriend'. Maybe we all need to remind ourselves that there's a lot more to her than the fact that she's my girlfriend." He cleared his throat. "I don't care what anybody thinks. I'm not holding Sarah to nonsense standards this 'upper echelon'—as Ellie called 'em—created. I'm not apologizing for her involvement in the investigation. Not to anybody. She shouldn't be having to apologize for it, either."

"It's done legitimate damage to our trustworthy reputation."

"Frankly, I'm fine with everyone knowing the Bartowskis aren't going to support a murderer," he snarkily shot back at his mom.

"We don't have to play their game," Ellie said. "We're better than that. Let them know we don't suffer bad behavior, that we don't support criminals. Look at the power you have right now, Dad. Look at the power Mom has. And you, Chuck. We're a freaking powerful family. We're hella rich. We get to navigate this world on our own terms. And I'd prefer that while we navigate we don't throw Sarah under the bus because she sought justice for a murder victim. That's totally fucked."

His dad shot to his feet suddenly then. The look on Stephen Bartowski's face was inscrutable. He just cut his hand through the air and pushed the other one through his grey-brown hair. "This conversation needs to stop. I need to be alone."

He turned on his heels and walked out of the room, tugging on the hem of his sweatshirt, his head down as he disappeared from sight. Chuck heard the back door open and shut, and he sighed and sank back into the couch.

The three of them all looked at one another, and Chuck thought maybe all of this was hitting his dad harder than any of them had really known. But when his dad said he needed to be alone, they all knew he really meant it.

And so they sat together in tense silence, staring at the untouched finger sandwiches. Because he was all too aware of how much he suddenly wanted Sarah to be here, he took his phone out and pulled up their last text conversation. He began typing, ninety percent sure he was doing the right thing.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

A/N: Please review if you've read this. It means a lot to me. Thanks! One more part to "Rift" and then it's on to other DATG arcs. Thanks!

-SC