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: Well, here we go with a new arc. Part one of "The Detective and the Tech Gift"...

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Sarah put her phone down on her desk with a triumphant smirk, stretching her arms over her head and moaning at the delicious cracking and popping in her limbs and especially in her back. She had just finished a case and had a fat paycheck on the way now. Which was good because the brakes on her car were starting to make that horrific squeaking sound. She needed to fix that quick. It was hard to tail someone with a car that sounded like a haunted swing set from nineteen-fifty-two.

Right as she lifted her legs and propped them on her desk, letting her head fall back to rest on her chair and shutting her eyes, she heard the door to the outer office open. Her eyes snapped open again and she bit back a groan.

A client was a client after all.

But before she could take her feet down, Chuck appeared in the doorway of her personal office. He opened his mouth to speak but then he caught sight of her legs propped on her desk, his eyes running down them to her black pumps and back up again. He cleared his throat and gestured to them. "You oughta not keep weapons just lying around your office like that. Someone's liable to get hurt."

Sarah raised her eyebrows at him. "These little ol' things?" she asked, lifting her legs. She tugged her skirt to cover a bit more of her thighs. "Weapons?"

Chuck wiggled his eyebrows. "Well, they knock me out."

She laughed, her head falling back and she sank a little lower in her chair to get more comfortable. "Freaking goof." She smirked up at him then as he came all the way into her office and leaned his palms on her desk. "What's the meaning of you coming in here and scaring off the droves of clients waiting to get in?"

"Did I?" He looked over his shoulder. "Gosh, I'm sorry. Was it my face?"

"Nah. Your face is fine. I think it was all that money coming out of your ears."

He frowned. "You'd think that'd bring more of 'em in."

"Well, it brought me in."

"Haaaaaa," he drawled, and then he leaned down towards her. Her desk was too long for him to reach her and kiss her the way he obviously wanted to. He got an adorably disgruntled look on his face, frowned thoughtfully, and lifted his knee onto her desk, practically crawling over it to get to her.

She cracked up even as his lips met hers, laughing too hard to get a proper kiss. He gave her a slight glare, amusement still in his eyes.

"How's a guy supposed to kiss his girlfriend when she's carrying on like that?"

Her heart full, she grabbed him with her hands on either side of his face and yanked him in for a long, hard kiss. When she pulled back, he blinked and let his body go limp, draped over her desk, his head nearly falling in her lap. He was absolutely crushing her stapler and some paperwork, but she didn't care all that much.

Laughing, she lowered her legs from the desk and dropped her hand on his head, stroking her fingers through his curls. "If someone comes in here and sees you like this, they'll think the P.I. snapped and murdered her rich boyfriend."

He gasped dramatically and lifted his head, craning his neck to look at her. "Oh, what would you even get out of that? You wouldn't even be entitled to any of my money unless we were married." He wiggled his eyebrows again.

"Good point. Maybe it was in a fit of passion. Jealous rage."

"Like I cheated on you or something?" She nodded and he seemed to think about it for a moment, before he reached up from his awkward position and cupped her chin in his hand, gazing at her thoughtfully. "Nah. Too farfetched. Nobody would cheat on a girl with your looks, toots," he said with a Cagney accent.

His grin made her giggle and she gave him a halfhearted shove. "Charming," she muttered as he pushed himself back up off of the desk and straightened to his full height, running his hands down his suit jacket. He then reached down to do his best, fixing her paperwork and righting her stapler, a comical wince on his face.

"What is it with you today? You're extra silly."

"Sillier than usual?" he asked.

"Yes. To be frank."

"I prefer you as Sarah." She gave him a confused look for a second, then figured out the joke and gave him a flat look instead. "No?" he asked.

"Get out and don't come back." She pointed towards the door. "The money's not even worth this."

He just laughed and then came around her desk to stand in front of her, leaning down again and planting his palms on the armrests on either side of her chair so that they were nearly face to face. "It's beautiful outside and the sun is shining and everything's coming up roses with the convention planning and I just feel good. Kinda giddy, know what I mean?"

She giggled and pressed her finger to the tip of his nose. "You're so cute. Well, it just so happens I've closed a case and my client is sending me a nice big paycheck, so while I wouldn't go so far as to describe myself as giddy…I'm not doin' so bad." She grinned as a look of proud excitement crossed his face. He had this way of letting her see every genuine ounce of the awe and pride he had in her successes that made her confidence skyrocket. And she would always be grateful to him for it.

"No kiddin'. Well!" He reached out his hand for a handshake. "Congratulations, Sarah Walker, P.I. Another case closed. You bad ass."

Chuckling, she took his hand and shook it vigorously, making him giggle. And then she climbed to her feet and stretched again.

Chuck straightened to his full height in front of her, oh so slowly, his body close to hers, and she found she enjoyed the way the unbridled attraction sizzled between them so suddenly. It was a feature of this relationship, she found. The pendulum swung between comfortable banter to crackling heat and back again so easily and frequently. At the drop of a hat. It kept her on her toes. And it kept her pretty damn satisfied.

"Don't get so excited. It was a stolen pocket watch. Simple case. Only took me two days. But it was an heirloom so my client was very happy. Happy enough that I got a pretty big tip out of it."

"It's your knack for discretion. Us rich guys love a discreet P.I."

She reached around him and pinched him on the ass, making him yelp and jump. "That discreet enough for ya?" She bit her lip and winked.

"No, actually. The opposite of discreet. And you should be ashamed of yourself."

"I'm not."

"And that's why I love you so much."

He leaned in and kissed her properly, finally. Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and immediately felt the last four days of having not seen him thanks to their hectic schedules nearly overwhelm her senses. She kissed him harder, loving the way his arms wound around her torso and squeezed her into a tight hug. His quiet little hum of happiness had a thread of need in it too, however, and it seemed to trigger both of them at the same time.

In seconds flat, she found herself pinned to her desk, Chuck going for the hem of her skirt with a desperate and skillful hand. But she caught it in her grip before he could get too far, pulling her lips back from his. "Mm mm. Not here."

"Why not here? We're alone."

"We're not having sex in my office, Chuck."

He let out a quiet whine and pecked her on the lips, dotting kisses down her jaw and driving her a little crazy, she had to silently admit. Her heart was racing, her fingers and toes tingling. "We have sex in mine."

"Yes, well, that's your office. This is a professional environment."

They laughed together but she managed to get her hands on his chest and push him back a few inches in the meantime, needing a bit of space.

"Fine," he drawled, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "We won't christen your fancy desk in your fancy office."

But she could see he wasn't actually put-out. He seemed amused more than anything, and she kissed his cheek for it.

"I do request you come with me, however."

"To where?" she asked, grabbing her blazer from the back of her chair even as she asked. If he wanted to take her the hell out of here, she wasn't going to say no. Not today. She'd missed the nerd the past few days.

"I don't really know. Somewhere we can see the sunset. Maybe I'll feed you."

"Like I'm a pet snake? Cute!"

He chuckled.

But she winced then. "I have to see to my brakes."

"Your brakes are just fine, Miss Walker. Otherwise I'd be currently pinning you to this desk and devouring you." She couldn't be mad about the smug look on his face.

"You're pretty proud of yourself for that crack, aren't you?"

"A little."

"You should be, it was pretty good." She let out a hummed giggle. He grinned back at her. "I meant my car, though. It's been making that horrific high-pitched brakes-are-shot sound the past two days."

"Oh, yeah? Damn." He paused thoughtfully. "I've got a mechanic. We can take your car to him tomorrow."

"And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime, I will drive."

"God forbid. I can only imagine." She moved away from him even as she spoke, shrugging her blazer on and pulling her long blond locks out of the collar. But then she felt him give her a playful swat on her backside and she gasped, spinning on her heel to give him her best affronted look. "Wow. Do I have to tell your mother about this, Mister Bartowski?"

"Do it. I'll give you her address."

She laughed and grabbed her bag, checking to make sure she had everything. They walked out to his car arm in arm and got inside, then they went through a nearby burger drive-thru, got themselves burgers, fries, and shakes, and headed up to a spot she remembered him taking her to when she'd first left Pinkerton behind to move to LA. He'd done it in an attempt to buoy her spirits the evening after she showed up at his door to wax poetic about how much she loved him. And it had worked, at least for a few hours.

It wasn't necessary this time. Her spirits were already high, and the burger she dug into was delicious, and the vanilla shake was comforting. She'd since kicked off her heels and braced her feet on his dashboard, their meal devoured, trash set to the side, and the sun was just touching the horizon, reflecting off of the ocean that spilled out in front of them.

"D'you know, I am absolutely certain I am the luckiest person on the planet?" she finally murmured, not taking her eyes away from the bright red sun easing itself oh so slowly behind the horizon.

"Mmmm, no. Disagree." She turned to look at him finally. He squinted out in the distance, his lips pressed together. "That title belongs to me."

He really had no idea just how much she meant what she'd said.

If Sarah Walker had gone back in time to tell fifteen year old Sarah Walker that someday she'd have her own private investigative agency, her own apartment in LA, a good, clean life, a happy life with a good man? She'd never believe herself. Not in a million years. She'd have to keep the details about Chuck to a minimum, she thought to herself in amusement. When she was fifteen, she'd had reckless taste in boys, and a tall and skinny nerd who played a lot of video games and read comic books when he wasn't hitting the school books probably wouldn't have turned her head. She was stupid back then. That was when she could still afford to be stupid, though. Before everything had changed.

She felt his fingers lightly graze her cheek and he tucked her hair back behind her ear. Turning away from the sunset, the sun now gone as the sky still glowed incredible shades of red and orange, she sent him a small smile.

"The look on your face was super far-off for a second there. You okay?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, I'm good. You?"

"So good."

They finally drove back to Sarah's office and he parked near her, climbing out with her and following her to swing himself down into the passenger seat. She didn't invite him, he didn't need an invitation, it was just something they silently agreed he would do.

They just sat there in comforting silence for a little while. And even though she wanted to go home, she didn't really want to kick Chuck out of her car, nor did she want to drive away from him. So she just sat there, taking deep breaths and just letting herself exist beside him, basking in his warm presence.

"Hey…"

She smiled and lazily rolled her head to the side so that she could peer at him. "Hey what?"

"I was thinking maybe you could turn on that scanner and let me listen to what's going on out there tonight. I know I'm just a civilian, but teeeechnically you wouldn't have this thing if it weren't for me soooooooo…"

Snorting, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Chuck, you are way too excited about this stuff. All you're going to hear is routine crap between officers patrolling and dispatchers. It's not that exciting." He made a face and she smirked. "If you really want me to turn it on, I will." Giggling at his excitement, she turned her car on and fiddled with the scanner a bit until the voices came to life. "See?" she said, gesturing to it. "There. Boring."

But then he put his hand on her arm and squeezed. She heard it just as he did.

An officer was talking about a murder suspect, a domestic incident. And he'd given an address that was literally only three blocks away from where they currently sat in her car.

Chuck interrupted whatever else had been said about the suspect.

"Sarah! That could be a case! A murder case. If you're there and Casey's on the scene he might bring you into it! That's money. But more importantly, you can help them. They need you! Let's go! It's just a few blocks north! C'mon!"

"Sh!" she hissed, trying to listen, but the correspondence was over, a dispatcher repeating the address again. "Damn it, Chuck…"

"Sarah, let's go. Come on."

She reached over and turned it off. "Chuck, how do I explain my presence there?"

"We're so close to the crime scene! All you say is you saw the hubbub while we were driving back to…my place. My place is in that direction. So you stopped."

Sarah gave him a long look. "Baby, you came up with that a little too quickly…" "Let's go! Come on, Sarah!"

She growled in annoyance and pulled away from the curb to drive them in the direction of the incident, turning off the scanner altogether. It took them a little over two minutes to get there, and she pulled up at the curb a few dozen feet back from the police vehicles. She counted five of them, but there was no ambulance or anything like that, which made her concerned. Alarm bells were going off. Nobody was around. Just those police cars with their lights flashing.

Deciding to play it safe, she reached into her bag and grabbed her gun as she turned off the car. "Stay in the car, Chuck."

"But—"

"Chuck!" she snapped, giving him a serious look. "I mean it. Stay here. I don't know what's going on with this but I have a bad feeling. Please. And if you hear anything, get down."

She got out of the car, staying low, shutting her door as quietly as possible and heading towards the alleyway. It was then that she heard an officer yell.

"Over here! We got 'im!"

She knew immediately that they'd gone into an active scene without realizing it, and now she was going to be in the thick of it. Shit. If she'd known, she wouldn't have brought Chuck into this. She wouldn't have even brought herself into this.

But then she heard another officer yell, "He's getting away! Let's go!"

She'd already come this far. She supposed she'd better lend her expertise now that she was here. And she took off running.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

One thing Chuck didn't really like about Sarah's car was how little leg space there was in it. Granted, he was tall. Taller than average. But the seat was jammed all far up towards the dashboard. He imagined it was Ellie who'd done it. She and Sarah had recently gone to the beach with Clara while Chuck was forced to give a STEAM presentation to high school students in the Inland Empire. They'd ditched him to go beaching with his niece and he'd almost been legitimately sore at them for it.

But not. It was an important presentation.

Now this seat was all jacked up though.

He grumbled in annoyance that Sarah made him stay in the car. He got it. He wasn't a trained officer or an ex-Pinkerton agent. Yadda yadda. But it was already a crime scene, the perp had already been caught he assumed, and it wasn't like he'd cross the yellow tape or whatever.

Reaching down the side of his seat, he pulled the lever and tried to scoot the chair back to give himself more room. He decided this was simply something he had to get used to. And if Sarah got another case to work on with the LAPD, that meant good money, and he was perfectly happy to sit in the car amusing himself while she worked.

He scooted too hard, though, and the chair slid way too far back, making him yelp it happened so quickly. "Jesus Christ, this thing is sensitive," he muttered to himself, wide-eyed.

She wouldn't appreciate him putting the seat this far back, he imagined. So he pulled the lever and tried to scoot up a little more. But then the seat surged forward and he jammed his knees hard against the dashboard.

"Ow! Shit!"

The impact knocked her glove compartment open.

Chuck winced, both in pain, and because he hadn't meant to open the glove compartment in Sarah's car. It wasn't really his business. Just like he didn't look on her phone unless she asked him to look something up or respond to a text from Ellie for her because she had her hands full.

But … now that it was already open…

Careful not to touch any of it, he peered inside. The car's insurance, the rest of the bureaucratic documents for ownership, blah blah blah… Leave it to Sarah to have it all tucked safely away in a pouch. She was so neat and tidy and organized. She was a good influence on him in that way. Maybe he should buy himself a little pouch for his own car's documentation instead of the way he just tossed it in his glove compartment every time the new papers came in the mail. Woops.

And then there was the gun.

A tin of mints…

A travel pack of tissues, some aspirin, his Stanford baseball cap she obviously stole out of his bedroom…

Wait.

Chuck swallowed hard and reached out to shift a pack of tissues to the side a little with one finger, before he pressed that finger to the buttstock of a real live gun.

It was her back-up, he knew.

Something anyone with a license to enforce the law would have. But seeing it there gave him a shiver. It wasn't a bad shiver, so to speak. He just wasn't a big gun person. Not that he resented Sarah for owning them. He'd prefer she stay safe while she was out here. Just…having it sitting there in the glove compartment in front of him…and so close to his face…

He shivered again and shut the glove compartment altogether. At least he knew she was safe, that she had protection in case things went sideways.

BANG! BANG BANG BANG!

Chuck's heart jumped into his throat. The sound of gunfire was unmistakable. And he realized suddenly that the correspondence they'd heard over her police scanner had never actually said the situation was neutralized. Or whatever cops said when the suspect or gunman was arrested or down.

"Sarah!" he muttered to himself, a horrific chill going through him. And he opened his car door, nearly strangling himself with the seatbelt before he grappled with it to get it off and swung out of the seat. He eyed the glove compartment for a long moment. And then he cursed himself and shut the door. "You can't use a gun, you fucking idiot," he growled at himself, shaking his head as he got low, crab walking along the row of parked cars and diving down behind the tire of one of the police vehicles.

BANG! BANG!

"You see him?" came a yell from somewhere around the corner of the building across the street.

"Go go go go go!"

Chuck dashed across the street then, hiding behind another police car. He heard a voice come up over the police scanner inside. "We've got someone down! Perp still on foot! We need an ambulance here now!"

BANG! BANG BANG!

Someone was down.

God, what if it was her?

Without even thinking about it, Chuck straightened to his full height and dashed onto the sidewalk. He'd go the other way around the building. Away from the gunfire. But he had to get to Sarah.

Sprinting as fast as he could, crouching low, he rounded the corner and kept close to the wall. The gunshots had stopped, but he could still hear yelling. And the sound of an ambulance siren blared somewhere nearby, a block or two away.

Chuck burst across the street upon spotting a small park on the other side. Trees were good for taking cover, right? Right. He could stay in the shadows. Hurrying into the park, he made his way across the grass, still staying low.

The yelling was just down the street. Maybe they'd already gotten the suspect.

And then he knew they hadn't gotten the suspect.

Because a man with fear and rage in his eyes stepped out from behind a tree and lifted his pistol to point it right at Chuck's chest.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Go go go go go!" she heard an unseen officer yell, her voice echoing off of the buildings.

Sarah turned the corner, her gun in both hands and down by her hip.

And she immediately found an officer pointing her gun in her face, but she lowered it immediately upon seeing Sarah wasn't the suspect.

"Ma'am, get inside right now. This is an active—"

"I work with Detective Casey," Sarah said. "I've got your back; let's go."

The officer frowned. "You're one of us? Where's your badge?"

"I'm a licensed P.I. contracted by the police department. I answer to Detective John Casey of the LAPD. You need someone at your six. I've got it. Come on."

There were a few more gunshots across the street, and Sarah realized that was in the direction of her car where she'd left her tech guy. She bit her tongue to keep from instructing the badge-holding actual police officer on where to head, knowing that wasn't going to help her case. But the situation was urgent enough that the officer took off without continue to question Sarah's credentials to be there with a loaded gun. Maybe she shouldn't be here… She didn't have a badge, she wasn't a government employee, she wasn't a damn cop…

It didn't matter. Those gunshots came from the street where her car was.

Sarah followed after the officer, who was thankfully heading towards the gunshots. She'd told him to get down if he heard gunshots. She had to trust that's what he was doing.

The officer pulled her comm on her collar to her mouth. "We've got an officer down! Someone's down!" she snapped, looking over her shoulder at Sarah. "Let's go!"

They scrambled up to an officer lying on the ground, clutching his shoulder. Sarah watched as the policewoman got down and pressed both hands against the wound.

BANG! BANG! BANG BANG!

"S-Someone else is down, Thompson," the injured police officer said, wincing in pain. "Think it's Wicks. Saw him take a knee."

"You see where the perp went?"

"No. No, he took a shot behind him and got me. Didn't see nothin' after that…"

Sarah moved away from the scene and turned the corner, spotting her car still parked where she'd left it and Chuck. Two officers raced right past it and turned at the edge of the next building, and three more split from them to dash across the street and head towards the park.

She went straight for her car. Even as she ran, she looked for tell-tale holes in the body of the car. There was nothing.

Literally.

Because Chuck wasn't in there, either.

His curl-covered head wasn't popping up from behind the window now that the coast was potentially clear, and as she staggered into the passenger door to look inside, he wasn't hunched over, he wasn't crouched on the floor in front of the seat. He wasn't even in the backseat. "Chuck…oh my God, where the fuck did you go?" she muttered to herself.

She was going to kick his ass.

The unbelievable idiot.

As she glanced first one way, then the other, she tried to think like him and figure out where the crime-film watching nerd would go. Had he heard gunshots and he got out of the car to run away from where he heard the shots? She shook her head to herself. That wasn't like him. She wished he would run from danger.

He'd probably freaked out with her in the mix of this situation and thought she was in trouble. If that freaking ass ran towards the gunfire, she'd murder him, their jokes earlier about it when they were in her office aside.

And so she followed the path the three officers who'd gone towards the park had taken.

But before she reached the corner, she heard the scanner flare up from one of the nearby police cars. "Suspect spotted heading into the park! West entrance! Need back-up!"

Screw everything else. She needed to find Chuck. The suspect had already murdered someone and then he'd shot two police officers while trying to escape from the law. He wouldn't hesitate to shoot anyone standing in his way, or some innocent bystander. Like Chuck.

Sarah sprinted away from the police car and rounded the corner. She could see the park across the street. And it wasn't until she was dashing to the other side that she saw the figures through the trees. They were just a little clearer than mere shadowy silhouettes, but when she rushed up onto the sidewalk, she realized one of them was incredibly familiar.

"Chuck…" she gasped. "Chuck!"

His hands came up and he took a few steps back. No…

The suspect was there, raising his gun, pointing it right at Chuck's chest. No. No no no!

Sarah swept her gun arm up and the loud BANG! BANG BANG! echoed through the night. She jumped, her whole body jerking at the sound. Her whole body seized at realization that she hadn't been fast enough. It hadn't been her gun that had gone off but someone else's.

But it wasn't Chuck who dropped to the ground screaming in pain. The shooter was crying out, clutching a bloody hand, and the knee of his jeans was obliterated, blood gushing from the ragged hole in the denim.

Sarah choked back a sob, stuck her gun in the back of her skirt waistband, and rushed the rest of the way to the scene. The officers who'd taken down their suspect were already on the scene, holstering their weapons and diving down to restrain him, but she didn't care about them, or anything else, except for the man who staggered backwards, his back crashing into a tree before his legs gave out and he sunk to the ground at its roots.

Her hands shook as she knelt in front of him and pushed at the jacket of his suit, feeling his chest over his shirt, feeling his legs and arms, looking for any sort of entry point of a bullet. "Oh my God," she breathed, her voice catching in her throat. "Did he—?"

"No," he murmured numbly. "No, he-he didn't. I'm okay. They got to him first. Holy shit," he gasped, pushing a hand through his hair.

Sarah sagged in relief and moved one hand to his face. He was okay. He was all right. He was fucking insane and stupid. And now he was dead meat.

She grabbed his face in both hands and leaned in close, her anger flaring up immediately. The fear still coursing through her made it worse. "God damn it, Chuck Bartowski! I told you to stay in the car!"

He nodded vigorously. "I know. I know, I'm sorry. I heard—"

"I don't care what you heard! Are you crazy?"

She heard the shuffling of feet behind her. "Miss."

Clenching her jaw in annoyance, feeling raw and brittle and a million other things that left her incredibly rattled, she turned to see the officer she'd followed to the scene of her injured colleague standing there, her hat tucked under her arm. Officer Thompson. "Yes?"

"I put in a call to Detective Casey. He wants to see you at the department as soon as possible. And get this guy the hell out of here," she said derisively, gesturing at Chuck. "Lucky Detective Casey vouched for the both of you, or I'd be putting you in the back of my car in cuffs and taking you to the station for getting in the middle of an active situation. You both could'a died, you know."

Sarah surged up to her feet, towering over the other woman by at least four inches. "I'm a trained Pinkerton agent, Officer Thompson."

"Ex…Pinkerton," the officer interrupted, raising her eyebrow. "Next time you end up at one of my scenes and try to wave a gun around, I'll arrest you, whether Casey gets his nose in it or not. You got me, Blondie?"

Sarah worked her jaw. She was trying to build a relationship with the police department, and if she punched the crap out of the woman standing in front of her for using that particularly condescending tone, that would be the end of it. No way would Casey be able to vouch for her there. She'd also end up behind bars and Chuck would really have to dig deep into her agency funds to get her bail. If she even had enough. Shit.

So she just nodded once.

"Good. Now get the hell outta here. And good luck with the big guy. He sounded pretty pissed." With a smug wink, she walked away again.

Sarah clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and turned back to Chuck.

"Blondie?" Chuck asked. "She has blond hair too. That'd be like if I called a curly haired person Curls all snottily." He pointed to his windswept mess of curls.

"Get. Up." She said it through her teeth.

His eyes widened as he slowly climbed up to his feet. She helped him dust himself off, smacking at the legs of his pants, at his arms, a little harder than was necessary maybe. And then she grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

"Let's go before somebody else stops us and doesn't let us go as easily as she just did."

"But—Sarah, I—"

"Save it 'til we get out of here," she shot over her shoulder. Her hands were still shaking. She could feel it. Her heart hammered away in her chest. That horrific chill, the shiver of utter terror, still wracked her body. Everything was tingling in the worst way, and then in the best way, because she was so relieved he was alive.

The gun had been up, pointed right at his chest. All the murderer would've had to do was squeeze the trigger before the police had gotten to him and she wouldn't be pulling Chuck across the street and away from the scene right now. Instead, she'd be kneeling over him, holding her hands to his chest the way Officer Thompson had done for her colleague in the street a few minutes ago. If he even survived this long. The gun hadn't been pointed at his shoulder. It had been pointed right where Chuck's heart was.

And as they stepped around the corner of the building on the way back to her car, Sarah felt the ground open up underneath her. She felt like she was falling. She swung Chuck around and half-shoved him into the brick side of the building, pinning him against it with one hand on his chest.

"He had his gun pointed right here, Chuck! Right here!" She took a deep, almost gasping breath, and she could feel the fire coming out from her collar, burning in her eyes, as he just gaped at her. "If they hadn't taken that shot before he could…" She took another deep breath. "What does 'stay in the car' mean to you? What in the hell were you thinking, huh?!"

"I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you into trouble with the…precinct. I just thought—"

"No, Chuck. No. You didn't think!" she cut him off, lowering her voice but still talking through her teeth, hissing almost. "There was no brain involved in what you did. Yes, you did get me in trouble. I'm probably about to get chewed out by Detective Casey, never allowed anywhere near one of his cases again, which is going to be a huge cut to my income." He winced and looked miserable. But she could see he was still pale, and shaking as well. "But I don't give a fuck about that!" She grabbed his face and pushed herself against him, leaving no room between their bodies. And maybe it was as much about her needing the reassurance of his warm, alive body pressed against hers as it was about getting his attention focused solely on her. "I was a split second away from losing you. Do you understand that?"

Sarah heard her own voice shaking. She didn't care.

"And why? Why'd you get out of my car where you would've been safe? What were you even fucking doing in the park?"

"I-I was looking for you. I thought you were…in trouble." He shut his eyes tightly, as if he knew how stupid he was.

"Oh my God," she breathed, shaking her head. She leaned to the side and glanced around the corner. There were still police swarming the area. They had to get back to her car and get away from the scene. She'd take him home, and then she'd go to see Detective Casey where her ass would be royally handed to her, no doubt. "Come on. Let's go."

"Sarah, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I—" He cut himself off this time, and she felt his hand slip into hers as they stepped into the street, headed for her car. She could see it sitting there like a shiny, grey sanctuary. "I don't know what to say."

"I do," she snapped, pulling her hand out of his as they approached her car. She unlocked it and they both climbed inside. And the second the door shut, she turned on her car to leave, but she also let herself explode the way she'd wanted to out there.

"You almost died!" she yelled, smacking his shoulder hard with a still shaky hand. "All you had to do was stay here and get down, and instead you followed the gunfire. What did you think you were gonna do? Fight off a gunman with your bare hands?"

She had to pull a U-turn to get them as far away from the police cars as possible before they taped off the area.

He thrust his hands out in front of him in a semi-shrug, eyes still wide, face still pale. "I heard them over the scanner, Sarah! They said someone was shot. He'd gunned someone else down. And I thought it was you! My mind went nuts and my heart was in my throat, and I just…reacted."

"And if it was me?! What then, Chuck?! You go out there to get yourself shot too?!"

"I didn't think that far ahead! I just had to be with you!"

God, it was so sweet, but somehow that just pissed her off even more. "For once I just want you to think of your own safety! You aren't trained!"

"You taught me aikido…"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Chuck! Aikido can't stop A GUN!" she yelled.

"I WAS ALMOST SHOT CAN YOU PLEASE NOT YELL AT ME RIGHT NOW?!" he yelled back. And then he buried his face in his hands, huffed shakily, and pushed his fingers through his hair. "Sorry. Sorry, sorry. I'm really… It's all hitting me. If those cops hadn't shot him, if they'd missed or something, he would've…I'd be dead right now. Fuck…"

Yeah, and she was still suffering from an icy chill as a result of his almost-death.

But she imagined he probably wasn't doing as well with the realization as he was outwardly portraying, and even that didn't look super great. Almost being shot wasn't fun. Staring down the barrel of a gun? Knowing your life is going to end? That whole sensation of your life flashing before your eyes?

He was going through it. And he was right. Maybe she shouldn't be yelling at him right now. Later might be the better option. When he wasn't so shaken up.

She reached over with one hand and laid it on his shoulder, squeezing. "I won't yell. I'm done yelling. I'm sorry. You just—That scared the shit out of me."

He nodded and reached up to lay his hand over hers. "Me, too. It was too close. And…a lot more terrifying than that drive by from a few years ago. Even though a bullet caught me that time… There's just something so…t-traumatic about the gun being pointed right at you. His finger had started to squeeze before I heard the gun go off…Like, like a movie, I could see it tightening in slow motion, almost like…zoomed in vision…and I thought I was dead but then he dropped his gun and his hand was this…bloody stump…I might be sick."

"Do you need me to pull over?" she asked.

"N-No, no. No, I'm…"

"Take deep breaths."

He did, and the sound of his deep breaths were the only thing she could hear as she continued to drive them to his place. There was no way she was taking him to his car for him to drive himself back to his condo. They would get his car later. For now, she just needed him home, behind locked doors, away from danger. Before she went crazy.

To say she was shaken up was such an understatement. She'd nearly watched the man she loved be shot in the chest point blank. How would she have even dealt with that? Could she deal with it? Or would she be plunged into yet another deep dark hole of despair—perhaps one she wouldn't be able to climb out of this time?

"Better," he muttered. "Sort of. I feel terrible."

"Take more deep breaths."

"N-No, not that. I acted like a sexist prick, like you couldn't take care of yourself out there. You can take care of yourself better than I can. Duh. Obviously."

Sarah shook her head. "You aren't a sexist prick, Chuck, you're just stupid. Extremely stupid and foolish."

He blinked. "Th-Thanks?"

She ignored that. "I get the urge to protect someone you love. I completely get it, Chuck. When I was working your case a few years ago, I put every part of myself into taking that shitbag Rosebreen down so that you'd be safe. I would've broken every Pinkerton protocol on the books to protect you." She took a deep breath and put both hands back on the steering wheel, squeezing hard to try to stop the shaking. "You thought I was in trouble and wanted to protect me. That's not you being sexist; it's you caring about me. I'd do the same for you a million times over. But I'm the one who's trained. And there was a madman with a gun running around out there shooting cops! He wouldn't have thought twice about shooting you, too. And you had nothing to protect yourself with. No vest. Nothing. It was foolish and I'm so pissed at you right now, you have no idea."

"I know," he said quietly. "I messed up. I should've stayed in the car where it was safe. Aikido can't take on guns. When I thought you might be hurt, I just…I went."

Then a thought struck her. "Why the hell did you go to the park of all places?"

He winced. "A, um, a good place to stay in the shadows while I made my way towards where I thought you might be."

Sarah groaned in frustration. "And you ran right into the gunman himself. Jesus Christ, Chuck."

"I know," he muttered lamely.

"This is real life. It isn't a movie! This isn't Humphrey Bogart or James Bond or something! You can get shot! You can die! There are real life maniacs out there! And running into a dark park at night while a murderer with a gun is running around shooting cops will almost certainly lead to you getting shot every single time!" She growled and shook her head. "Do I need to curtail your movie watching?"

She felt like a condescending asshole for that then and huffed. "Sorry. I'm not trying to patronize you. I'm just… That didn't have to happen. You wouldn't have been there if you'd stayed here where it was safe, or if I hadn't listened to you and chased after a crime scene." She sent him a look and he just looked miserable again. "And if there's ever a next time—and trust me, I'm gonna make sure there fucking isn't, we aren't listening to police scanners or going to crime scenes anymore, at least I won't be taking you, that's for sure—you better not get out of the car like you did tonight when I tell you not to. Anyway, all of this is moot because I'm pretty sure I'm having my contract severed by the only cop in the entire LAPD who knows what I can offer as a P.I. outside of his department."

He looked miserable about that, too. And honestly, she was going to be so angry if that was what happened when she showed up at Casey's desk later. At Chuck, yes. If he'd only stayed in the car…

But also at herself, because she knew better than to be a damn ambulance chaser. She knew better than to go into active shooting situations. But then to bring Chuck? Maybe if Casey had called her in, sure, but her boyfriend needed to stop fronting as her sidekick or whatever it was he fancied himself to be. And she needed to stop letting him do that.

That was how she would lose him.

And she couldn't lose him.

He was her catalyst for everything good in her life. He'd been her turning point.

She finally pulled into her reserved space in the underground garage under Chuck's building and they walked shoulder to shoulder through the rows of cars to the elevator. When the doors shut and the elevator took them up, Sarah turned to look at him again. Standing beside her. Alive. He was okay.

She could strangle him.

"Chuck?"

He looked back at her.

"Don't ever do something like this again. Please. Don't force me to have to do all of this alone. Waking up, going to the agency, making dinner, watching sunsets from special spots and… drinking. I don't want to drink alone. I did enough of that through the first half of my twenties, okay?"

Chuck's face softened and she saw a chill go through him all at once. With a loud gulp, he nodded. And then he closed the distance and hugged her. She hugged him back. Hard. She didn't know which of them was squeezing hardest. All she knew was that this was what she'd needed since she'd nearly watched the man she loved more than anything murdered right in front of her eyes. She needed his long, strong arms around her. She needed to feel the warmth of his living body under her hands, surrounded by her own arms. Sarah pressed her face into his neck and felt the soft thump of his pulse there. It calmed her to no end.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. Really."

"I know," she said back. But then she pulled out of his arms and gave him a hard punch in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"It's what you deserve, you idiot."

He glared a little as he rubbed his shoulder. "Look, I know what I did was stupid, and I'm still shaken up from the—" He swallowed hard and shivered. "But don't you think you're being a little harsh?"

She took a deep calming breath as the elevator doors opened and they walked up to his condo's door. "Chuck, I need you to understand that what happened out there is the reality of law enforcement. It isn't some fucking Nicholas Cage movie where he goes through explosions and car crashes after long drawn-out car chases and getting shot and stabbed and falls off buildings and somehow lives to the end of the movie. If he'd gotten that shot off, I'd be at the hospital right now, signing papers over your dead body. Do you get that?" she asked, her voice shaking again. She swallowed thickly and pushed into his condo first, turning on the main light in the room and facing away from him for a moment to give herself the time to recuperate from the blunt reality of the image she'd just conjured with those words. "You need to understand there are consequences for running headfirst into a situation like the one tonight. With death being one of them. You almost left me here. Alone."

"I didn't."

She spun on her heel. "Yeah, thank God." And she realized her hands were shaking again. She couldn't get rid of the image of that gun swinging up to point at Chuck's chest. A future that might not have been seemingly had flashed before her eyes in that split second as she'd grappled for her gun. "I have to go see Casey and try to salvage any ties I have left to the LA Police Department."

"Sarah, maybe I can come and throw myself under the bus, huh? Could say I followed you. He doesn't even hafta know I was in the car with you. I was worried and followed you in my car, heard the gunshots, went lookin'… It wasn't your fault. I can explain—"

But she pushed past him towards the door and grabbed his hands along the way, pulling him over with her until they stood at the threshold. "No," she said steadily. "I'm not throwing you under any buses. I take part of the blame here. It's my responsibility. I know better than to go running into active shooter situations, and with you in the car to boot? That was stupid, reckless. No, I'll take care of it. I need you to stay here."

"What about my car?"

"Exactly. You don't have your car. And I have half a mind to take your phone too in case you get any ideas to call a ride share." She gave him a serious look. "Please. Please, Chuck. Please stay here. Please stay. I'm going to fix this best I can, but I can't focus on what I have to do unless I know you're safe. Do this for me."

He nodded and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Sarah, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made things hard for you with Detective Meanie. But mostly I'm sorry I scared you so bad."

She hugged him tightly and kissed the side of his face before pulling back and lowering her chin to look at him through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, too. For putting you in danger by going there when I knew I shouldn't. Don't think I'm not pissed at you for leaving the car. It's just that I'm so relieved that you're…still here." She stroked a hand down his face. Then she pointed down at the floor. "Stay here tonight or I'll track you down and kick your ass. Consider that a promise."

The door slammed behind her.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

A/N: Please review! Thanks so much!