The Detective and the Tech Guy
Author: Steampunk . Chuckster
Rating: T
Summary: A case of mistaken identity and murder brings Sarah Walker, Pinkerton agent, to sunny California. Protecting the heir to the Bartowski Electronics Corporation should be just business - but Chuck Bartowski fills out a suit nicely and makes a mean martini. Chuck lobbied to hire the Pinkerton Agency, but had no idea the detective they'd send would be as alluring, intelligent and fascinating as Sarah Walker. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man movies.
Disclaimer: No money is being made from this story. I don't own Chuck or The Thin Man series.
Author's Note: Here's Part 4!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The Detective Versus the Assistant, Part 4
The hot bath hadn't helped.
Slowly sinking under the water and staying under there 'til her lungs nearly burst, letting the soapy water surround her head, block out the sounds of Los Angeles outside of her apartment…that hadn't helped either.
Hiding in bed with the covers over her head, wallowing in misery in the stuffy darkness under her duvet? That hadn't helped.
Eating ice cream hadn't helped. A superb but still less-than martini hadn't helped either. Neither had the second or third one.
It was almost two in the morning and she was still incredibly upset and rattled. She'd never been able to go more than a few days without thinking about it, and she knew she probably never would, even if she lived to be one hundred and twenty years old.
It was emblazoned into her brain, branded in her like someone had taken a hot iron to her heart. But it was so much easier to deal with when it was shoved all the way to the deepest depths of her being, where it would never see the light of day.
Mark Macklin had said two God damn words, and it pulled it up out of the depths into the light and threw Sarah off her game. She could deal with that all right, but Chuck had been standing there in the room, and he'd seen it in her face.
She'd been able to avoid it all this time, but he'd pushed hard in the car, harder than she was ready for. So she'd pushed back. She'd practically shoved.
And she felt his hurt, saw it in his face, when she asked him not to come up.
She hadn't been lying or just giving him a line when she said it wasn't about him. She didn't want to relive any of that over and over and over again, telling this person, then that person, going through it like she was back there a decade ago, grappling with the same pain one hundred times over.
She didn't want to deal with any of this. She just wanted Mark Macklin cut out of her existence like he'd never been there in the first place, and she could go on with her life, the way she always had, without the memories of New York City crushing her.
Was she hiding from it?
Yes.
Absolutely.
Was she willing to change how she dealt with this, knowing Chuck wasn't exactly wrong to push for information about her past? Nope.
She was protecting herself. She was guarding herself from that pain. The excruciating pain she knew would come back if she had to say any of it out loud.
Even if he was Chuck. Her Chuck.
The man she was sure she'd be with for a very long time. Forever, even. And that meant that someday, somehow, she was going to have to do this. She was going to have to lay it all out on a platter for him, no matter how fucking much it hurt, no matter what kind of look he got on his face when she told him and how that look would affect her.
He needed to know how busted up and broken she was still. Over a decade later. He deserved to know, and she was well aware of that.
But she wasn't there yet. She couldn't get herself there yet even if she tried much harder than she was currently willing to.
That didn't stop her from feeling like shit for hurting him, though. She knew she had hurt him. He wore that kind of thing on his sleeve, it was all over his face. Unlike her, he shared everything, even if he did so inadvertently.
"I'm such an asshole," she breathed to nobody in particular.
Why did she lash out? Why was anger and snapping the only way she could deal with this trauma? He hadn't deserved it. Granted, this was her story, and it was her story to share. She would share it when she was damn well ready. She didn't owe her story to anyone.
But he hadn't meant any harm. He loved her. She'd gotten a whole dossier on him, and he'd gotten jack squat on her. From the very start of their acquaintance until now, he only knew what she'd willingly told him. And she knew a lot more about him than what he'd told her.
They were also very different. Their backgrounds were different, their upbringings very different. And he'd had a lot more support, a lot less full-on trauma, than she'd had. She didn't blame him, she didn't hold a grudge, she didn't want misery for him. But it was a lot easier for him to talk about financial troubles, the struggle they'd gone through as a family, together, than it was for her to talk about her past and everything she'd gone through alone.
And he was such an open book.
She couldn't be that.
She'd never been that, and she didn't think she ever would be. It just wasn't in her nature.
But for as different as they were, this relationship they were in was the best thing that had ever happened to her, by far, and it had power and meaning that she wasn't sure she even really understood, it was such a…strange and sudden and unexpected twist, so different from what she was used to.
She didn't want to sit here sulking, wallowing, anymore. She wanted to be in the same room as her tech guy. Even if it meant apologizing. She needed to apologize to him. He was probably right about everything he'd said, but she wasn't ready for more than just a sincere apology.
She knew it wasn't enough, that she most likely wasn't enough, what she had to offer him wasn't enough. She'd get there someday maybe, or at least she'd work at it. But she wanted to be with him. She wanted to say she was sorry and ease at least some of his hurt, let him know she wasn't angry with him.
And her shot nerves needed his strength, the warmth of his touch. The way the smallest things he did or said brought her unending comfort. He'd always been that for her. He always would be.
She'd fucked up. She would keep fucking up.
She was a sorry excuse for a person.
And she was taking her sorry excuse for a person back to his apartment to grovel for being such a jerk, to beg for his forgiveness, but also…to tell him in no uncertain terms that she couldn't say what he wanted her to say.
She changed into yoga pants and a T-shirt, grabbed her bag, and left her apartment behind, driving through the dark streets of LA towards his condo building, fearing that even though she knew what she had to offer wasn't enough, Chuck would also know it wasn't enough, and he'd turn her away.
She would deserve it.
But she needed him not to do that.
She was awful and she knew it, and she was going to burrow her awfulness in his arms if he'd let her.
She had her key to his condo out by the time she got out of the elevator on his floor and she just stood outside of his door. She wasn't entitled to his comfort, to his bed, simply because she needed it. And she knew that. She'd been a jerk, and she knew that too. He'd pushed too hard though, and he probably knew that.
But there were parts of her that yearned for him so badly that it sometimes shocked her, even after knowing him and loving him for years now. It shocked her that she could be drawn to another person this powerfully.
She'd bitten his head off though and she didn't deserve to walk into his condo, sneak up the stairs to his bedroom, and climb in bed with him like she wanted to. The way she usually did when she was leaving her office late and had the urge to sleep pressed up against him.
This wasn't one of those times.
And still, she unlocked the door and stepped into the dark entryway of his home, a home she'd shared with him for a short time when she'd been unmoored, leaving her Chicago apartment and her job with Pinkerton to start fresh. He'd opened this condo to her, and he'd welcomed her into his home, and she'd made it her own home for a few months. In some ways, it still felt like her home even though she had a physical home of her own now. Because she was so comfortable here, but also because he was here.
Sarah silently shut the door behind her, locked it, stepped out of her sneakers, left her bag, and went right for the stairs that led up to his bedroom.
Maybe he'd heard the elevator, or he heard her unlocking the door. Or perhaps she hadn't come up the stairs as quietly as she'd thought, because as she carefully pushed open the door that had been ajar, the way he always kept it when he went to sleep, she saw his form under the covers shift, before his dark curls popped up from the pillow.
She bit her lip as he peered at her through tired, squinting eyes in the dark. She walked closer to the bed. He didn't say anything, instead just pushing himself to sit up, the sheets falling to pool at his waist.
Sarah stopped a few feet away from the bed. Then she sheepishly pointed at the bed with a, "Is it okay if I get in there with you?"
Chuck furrowed his brow, his eyes still clouded with sleep, and he lifted up the sheets invitingly.
Like she always did when she showed up at his place in the middle of the night, she pushed her yoga pants down her legs and stepped out of them, then lifted her shirt off over her head.
Clad in only her underwear, she crawled onto the bed, under the sheets he still held open for her, and she wrapped her arms around him, snuggling against him, her bare chest pressed into his, skin against skin.
Chuck scooted to lie back down, his grip on her not loosening for a moment, and she curled herself even more around him once he was on his back, his head on the pillow.
They let the silence exist for a good minute or so, and Sarah finally did what she knew she had to do. It was what he deserved from her after she'd snapped at him earlier.
"I'm sorry," she breathed against his collarbone. She pressed a kiss there, squeezing him, her fingers digging into his shoulders and back. "I'm a complete basket case and you shouldn't have to deal with this shit."
"I'm not dealing with anything, Sarah," he said into her hair, he pulled her closer, moving her so that she was lying directly on top of him. She felt extra comfortable, safe, and secure, nearly every inch of her front touching him. This was what she'd needed all day, even while she was biting his head off. "You are who you are and I love who you are."
"I know," she whispered. She shook her head, her eyes drifting shut. A wave of emotion came over her and she had to press her lips together tightly to keep from crying. It passed just as quickly. "But I'm still sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean. I immediately reacted in the worst way, because that's what I do when it comes to…that subject."
"Your family?"
She felt herself tense. "Yes."
"It's okay. You don't have to tell me. I shouldn't have pushed so hard."
"You shouldn't have, no. But I'm also very aware of the fact that you shouldn't have to push at all. I know that. Still, I…can't. Not right now."
His fingers made a pattern down her back, just his fingertips . It made her shiver against him. "Okay. I won't push you."
Sarah sighed. "Someday. Someday I will, Chuck. I'm sorry I was so nasty in the car with you earlier. I have no excuse for it. It was wrong, it was the worst way to handle it. Anger is kind of my way of finding control when I feel a little out of control."
"I know that," he said quietly. And he probably actually did know that. It was something literally no one else in the world would know about, but he did. Because he knew her better than anybody. She'd let him know her in a way she'd never let anyone else ever come even close.
"This probably isn't enough for you, is it?" She felt him go tense under her and she pushed up from his chest just enough to be able to look down and meet his gaze in the dark. "It isn't enough that I'm saying I'm sorry, but that I can't tell you about…my past yet. You deserve better, you deserve more, and I know that, I'm just not ready."
He blinked and nodded. "If you're not ready now, what makes you think you will be later? At some point in the future?"
She pressed her lips together thoughtfully and shrugged one shoulder, feeling extra vulnerable as she told him the honest to God truth. "That's a good point. And I don't know the answer to that. I want to be there. I want to get there. Someday. To a place where I can drum up the courage to lay it all out on a platter. I only know I'm not there yet." She huffed, rolling her eyes at herself, biting her lip as she glanced to the side at his bedside clock. It was nearly three in the morning. "I'm not able to give you what you deserve."
His hand came up to cup her face a little less gently than she was prepared for, and her wide eyes quickly fell back to his. He was clenching his jaw, a flash of frustration in his gaze. "Don't say that. I don't know what I do and don't deserve, baby, but what you do give me has made me happier than I have any right to be."
Sometimes he said things that cut right through her heart, hit the nail on the head, verbalized exactly the way she felt about him, without her even realizing there were words for how she felt.
There they were.
"For what it's worth, it's the same for me," she said softly. What else could she say?
"That's worth a whole lot." He finally smiled a little, his thumb stroking over her cheek lovingly.
"But I meant that you deserve more than being trapped in the dark about…parts of my past. And I know that and I still can't get to where I need to be to say it out loud. So I'm sorry. I wish I could, I just can't. Not right now." She knew she wasn't doing the right thing here, she knew she should just let it out, but a crippling fear of pain, the memory of trauma, overcame her when she thought of even giving him highlights of her past. So she didn't. Instead, she just buried her face under his chin and held him tighter.
"Okay." The way his hand rubbed up and down her bare back was exactly what she'd been yearning for when she rushed down to her car and drove here. "It's okay, Sarah. We'll get there when we get there."
She trusted that he was right, and she pressed a kiss under his jaw, her fingers sliding down his his side, skirting over his ribs, and finally curling around his hip, teasing the waistband of his boxers. She pressed an even lighter kiss to his throat, and then his collarbone.
And she was forced to stop before she could continue by Chuck cupping her face in both hands and pulling her back so their faces lined up. She saw the question in his eyes and she nodded immediately.
Sarah knew they were on the same page as he rolled them both over so he could pin her to the mattress, kissing her with a passion that had flames licking at her lower half.
There was so much to say, so much left unsaid, and she felt him relenting even if he might not've understood, but for now they both wanted this, needed this, especially after the disagreement, maybe even fight, they'd had earlier.
And she spent the rest of the morning loving him with every inch of her body, every piece of herself.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"What the fuck is that?!"
Chuck reared back, looking at his sister who'd just answered the door to her apartment, daughter in arms. "Hi to you too?"
"Where'd you get that black eye?! Who hit you?!" She reached out and grabbed him, pulling him in. "Who do I have to murder?"
He chuckled. "I didn't realize it still looked that bad." He reached up to prod it with his fingers. "At least I can see through it now. And it doesn't hurt that bad." The swelling had gone down after that first day as he continued to ice it.
"No. Nuh uh. You're not answering me. Who did that? What happened?"
He sighed. "I was helping Sarah with stuff at her agency the other day…"
"Were you playing catch with a paper weight?" Chuck gave his sister the flattest look he could muster and she snorted. "Sorry. Come with me into the kitchen. I was just making Clara her bottle."
"I was helping her file stuff."
"Sweet of you."
He shrugged, deciding not to go into the whole thing with her. He knew his sister too well and that meant being acutely aware of how she would respond to him showing up at Sarah's agency as her assistant randomly, with no warning, because of a bet he'd won. She'd roll her eyes at him and he'd get some kind of diatribe about letting his girlfriend have her own space once in a while. In spite of knowing she'd be right, he didn't want to hear that right now. "She needed help and I like being there. But she called a potential client to turn down his case because it wasn't something that lined up with her moral code, and he got so mad that he came to the agency in person."
Ellie spun from where she was getting one of Clara's bottles of breast milk out of the fridge. "What?! He just showed up?! What the hell?!"
"Yeah. I know. Anyway, she was fantastic, turned him down in person, was her usual Sarah Walker, P.I. badass self, and she basically told him to get the fuck out because he was threatening to sue and stupid shit like that." Ellie looked enraged. "Yeah. That look on your face? How I felt. I got super protective and I basically grabbed him and tried to force him out, he swung his arm up and his elbow clocked me."
"He threatened Sarah and then he hit you?" she asked through a clenched jaw. "What's his name? I'll kill him."
He chuckled, holding his hands up. "It's not necessary, El. You have a child to raise and I don't really trust Awesome to do it alone while you're in prison. My niece will end up drinking protein shakes and nothing else at three years old." Ellie snorted and giggled. "The bastard is gone though. Out of our lives. And good lawyers are working against him. So this? I can deal with this." He pointed to his eye.
"And Sarah left him alive?" Ellie asked, smirking as she began heating the milk.
"I stopped her before she got out the door. If I hadn't, the guy's odds wouldn't have been high."
"Noooo," she drawled, winking. She frowned then. "I'm sorry you were hurt. What an asshole. You called the police, right? Not just because he hit you, but threatening Sarah? What a piece of shit."
"Oh definitely. They're on top of it. Sarah's, um…fine."
Ellie had a bit of a look on her face as she watched him, but then she dried off the warm bottle and blew some of her fringe out of her face. "Okay, Clara. Time to eat."
Chuck stretched both of his arms out then, knowing it might be a long shot. But the idea of holding Clara and feeding her right now, having her happy little face close, her warmth against him, knowing he was helping someone, helping his niece, felt sort of necessary.
"What?" Ellie asked.
"Am I allowed to feed her?"
"Okay, if you insist!" she chirped, passing Clara into his arms without reservation. He blinked, taking his niece and cradling her against his chest. And then the bottle was pressed into his hand. "There ya go. Enjoy."
"Uh." That was easy.
Ellie promptly went to the counter, uncorked an already open bottle of pinot, and poured herself a glass. "Yes. Mommy likes. Mommy likes very much," she practically sang.
Shaking his head and chuckling, he took Clara to the chair next to the couch in the living room, hearing Ellie close on his heels, and he sat, tossing a cloth over his shoulder and tilting the bottle down for the blond baby to grab it and pull it into her mouth ravenously.
The sound Ellie made as she took her first sip of the wine she poured herself was…not something her brother needed to hear. And he looked at her with the most scandalized face he could muster.
"Clara, your mama is a weirdo," he muttered, looking down at Clara.
"Maybe her mama is a weirdo but she's also currently guzzling a nice glass of pinot so who really gives a shit?" Ellie drawled, sighing happily as she lounged on the couch.
He snorted and shook his head. "Fair. Damn, she's really going at this thing. Are you starving my niece?"
"Oh, shut up," his sister giggled. "She's actually a big eater, I'm discovering."
"She's gonna be a workout fiend like her dad, isn't she?"
"God, I hope not. I cannot put up with all of his exercise shit all over the place and her exercise shit all over the place at the same time."
"Right, because you'll never have the room you need for all of your books that you buy without ever actually reading them."
She sat up a bit and glared and he winced, wrinkling his nose, gritting his teeth sheepishly. "I'll have you know I am slowly making my way through one of them as we speak. Very slowly, but I'm doing it. My job is exhausting and so is my daughter, so sue me," she moaned through a yawn. "Actually, tack Devon on there too. He makes me really tired some days."
"Ew, El, come on."
She gave him a disgusted look. "You, ew! I wasn't talking about that! I mean because he's always so God damn bubbly all the time. You're gross."
"Oh. Well. That makes sense. Sorry."
Ellie snorted quietly and shook her head. "Anyway, you showed up looking like Moody McMoodster and I don't know if it's related to that black eye or not but let's talk." He gave her a questioning look. "Oh stop. I saw it in your face when you showed up out of the blue…with that black and blue…" She looked proud of herself and he just shook his head at her. "So either you're trying to steal time with that sweetheart right there or you need to talk to your wise older sister."
"Why not both?" He gave her a flat look, deciding to dispense with the teasing, and she winced.
"Oh boy. What is it? Is Mom doing that thing she does where she tries to guilt trip you for falling in love with someone who isn't from the tiny pool of worthy suitors and suit…resses? Whatever the female suitor is." Chuck laughed and shook his head. "Oh wait. Dad's putting too much pressure on you at the company. You need to learn to say no sometimes. You give way too much of yourself to that place, brother."
"Um, pot calling the kettle black?"
"Shhh. Fine. It's a family trait maybe." She waved her hand through the air dismissively and took another sip. "Tell me. What's going on?"
He groaned, shifting Clara in his arm so that she wasn't lying down too much and tilting the bottle better for her. "I feel like I shouldn't do this, El. You two are so close now, it's like I'm…I dunno."
"Oh. It's kind of nuts how it didn't even occur to me that you looked upset when you got here because of Sarah." And then it must've sunk in because she sat up straighter and made a pained face. "Uh oh. What happened? Are you fighting? Did you do something?"
Chuck glared. "Why do you think I—I mean, I sort of did, but it wasn't…I mean, she's also part of it. It wasn't just me fucking up. I kind of…pushed a little hard the other day, trying to learn more about her past, her family in particular."
"Too hard, huh?"
He nodded. "I kept…needling, trying to get her to tell me, and she got pissed off, snapped at me. She did that thing where she gets uncomfortable with the subject or doesn't want to face something and she shoves me away."
Ellie choked a little on her wine. "She shoved you?"
"Not physically!" he said, giving her a come on look. "She gets angry when she feels herself getting vulnerable sometimes. She's got these barriers that she had up a lot when we first met and she was working the B.E.C. case for Pinkerton, I guess to protect herself. It's been a while since I've had to come up against those." He frowned.
Ellie frowned. "I just realized I don't know anything about her family. Or her past at all really. Huh."
"Right?"
She shrugged, still frowning as she sipped her wine. "Well, she's not the sort of person who just…pours her soul out to people, so I guess it never occurred to me that I didn't know anything about her family. …Huh."
"No, I know. I know she's more private and stuff. But…" He sighed. "I've sort of asked about it in the past. Just low-key probing to see if she would offer anything up about family. But she just sidesteps it—in that very Sarah, impressively graceful way of hers—and I haven't pushed before because I know how she gets when I push too much with things."
"Like you are being pushy when it isn't your business?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and sipping her wine.
It felt pointed and he gave her a flat look. "Sure, yeah. I'll admit that. But this feels like it is my business, Ellie. Okay, fine, maybe not," he added when she gave him a doubtful look. "But I love her, I'm in love with her. Am I wrong to want to know about her family?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You're not wrong to want to know about Sarah's family. But she's not wrong to not want to talk about it if she doesn't want to."
"I know. I know that. But why doesn't she want to talk to me about it, El? That's the thing that's making me feel nuts, you know? Like, does she not trust me with whatever is going on with her family, or whatever went on as the case may be? She think I'm gonna run away or something if it's that bad?"
Ellie gave him a face like he should know better than that. "Oh, come on. She knows you aren't going anywhere."
"I'm not. Of course I'm not. But what if she doesn't know that? Like, is her mom a super powerful Russian arms dealer and she thinks I'll break up with her if I find out? I wouldn't break up with her over that."
"No, you wouldn't. You'd maybe try to go to Russia to meet said mom because life is a movie to you and you'd think it was cool," Ellie groused.
"That's not—Okay, maybe it's a little true. But my first question stands. Is it trust? Does she not trust me to be able to handle it? Worse, does she think I'm not gonna be able to be there for her properly if she tells me? Like, am I not enough of a supportive boyfriend?" He sent his sister an alarmed look. "Do you think that's it, El?"
"You're being unfair to yourself, and you're being unfair to her, Chuck." He shrugged. She sat up all the way and sighed. "Look, you have your faults, buddy boy, that's for sure. We all do. But I can tell you for sure that you aren't an unsupportive boyfriend. And she definitely doesn't think that." She pursed her lips, thinking. "What if, and hear me out, it isn't actually about you?"
He groaned. "She said that too."
"What?"
"That it isn't about me."
Ellie thrust her hand out. "There you go. She told you outright, with her words. It's not about you. It's probably the content more than it is the person who'd be listening to said content." He furrowed his brow. "I mean, her story. Whatever it is that happened to her." She got quiet, hugging herself. "It's something with her family you said?"
He nodded. Then shrugged on second thought. "It must be. I mean, she's never talked about them, and when Macklin brought up her dad when he was trying to assert his authority, she went…cold. I dunno how to describe it."
"That asshole used her father against her? Just because she wouldn't take his case?"
"Yeah. I know. He's probably the worst person I've ever had the misfortune of meeting." He clenched his jaw. "I was angry, but I still caught how unsettled it made her. I've never seen something get under her skin like that. And of course, she's Sarah Walker, so she recovered quickly."
Ellie's thoughtful frown deepened. "It must be bad."
"I know. That's what I mean, though. Like, if it's that bad that she doesn't want to even talk about it, it-it feels like something I should know about, you know? So I can help her. So I can…be of some…comfort. I dunno. The idea of something existing in her past that makes her that upset bothers me a lot."
His sister leaned over and put her hand on his knee. "You're such a good guy, Charles Irving. The best."
He smiled a little, but then he saw the face Ellie usually made right before she was about to say something she thought he might not like hearing. Uh oh. His smile dimmed in anticipation.
"You're hurting, Chuck, because there's something potentially big in her past, something that gives her pain, and you don't know what it is. And maybe because you're hurting, because you are a supportive boyfriend, because you step right a lot of the time, because you love her and she loves you, maybe because of all of that you think you deserve to have her sit you down and spill her guts to you about this. Whether it's her family or her dad, or whatever it is. I don't blame you for thinking you've earned it. You probably have." She shrugged. "If anyone has, you have." She sighed then. "But her past belongs to her. Her story belongs to her. Not to you. Or me. She's important to you, and to me, and that might make us feel like she should talk to us, you especially obviously. But until she is ready to share this with someone else, Chuck, we have to be okay with the not knowing. You have to be okay with the not knowing."
He groaned and rolled his head back, blinking at the ceiling.
"Chuck, she isn't ready to tell people about her past. Not even you. And you need to understand."
"I just don't get it, Ellie. I mean, I've been understanding with her, I haven't pushed."
She gave him a flat look. "Until the other day, you mean."
He winced. "Yeah, until then. I just saw how badly it shook her. And it shook me."
"And that makes sense. But you pushed her too far, and now you need to take a step back, listen to her, and be okay with waiting until she's ready to talk about it."
"Why isn't she ready now?"
Ellie shrugged. "I don't know, Chuck. But that doesn't change the fact that she isn't." She sighed. "Not knowing about whatever it is, knowing she has some potentially massive trauma that she won't talk about, not even to you, does that make you want to be with her any less?"
"God, of course not."
"You two are so different," Ellie said, smirking, sipping her wine. "You're just so wildly different even if you're an incredibly strong couple, and I wonder if you really get that."
"Yeah, I do," he tried, shrugging. "I get it. We aren't the same. At all. It's what drew me to her, maybe."
"Maybe. But I'm not sure you really get it, though, Chuck."
"I do!"
"Okay, but you share things with people. You're an open book. You talk about your past and your feelings and your emotions. You tell people all about the things you've been through, not because it isn't hard or unimportant, but it's just who you are."
"And?"
"And she is so not like that." She laughed breathily, shaking her head and widening her eyes. "Like, at all! Not that she doesn't have emotions. She does. She's a very deep and warm person and I adore her. But she's very different from you, and that's not to say it's bad, it's just different. She guards things, she keeps shit close. And I'm not gonna pretend to know why; she just does. She's not a sharer, Chuck." She huffed. "I know you understand what it feels like to do things to…protect yourself from pain."
Chuck felt the way his sister stared at him plainly, and he knew what she meant, what she was referring to. He nodded once and looked down at Clara. And he only just realized that looking away from Ellie, looking into his niece's comforting face instead, was a perfect example of what she meant.
"She's protecting herself from pain. Try not to take that personally. I'll admit I'm feeling a bit of a sting too, knowing there's a big thing she's keeping from me when I consider her my best friend. But it also has nothing to do with me. It's hers." She shrugged.
"It's big, though, so big that it affected her that much, and the thought of her keeping that hidden inside since we met, even after we became serious? It hurts, Ellie," he said plainly. "I know it isn't the right way to feel, but it's how I feel anyway."
She pursed her lips. "Just tell yourself you haven't told her all of your big things, either. And don't get any ideas," she said, pointing. "Don't go unloading all of your baggage on her hoping that she'll unload back. That's not fair, and knowing Sarah, it isn't going to work."
Chuck glared, a little offended. "I wasn't gonna do that. I know I have to get over it."
"It's not as simple as get over it. But I think you have to take a step back from the hurt and be patient. She's going to tell you eventually."
Ellie pointed quietly at her child and Chuck looked down.
"Oh. Sorry, Clara." He took the empty bottle from her as she continued sucking on the nipple despite nothing coming out of it, starting to make unhappy whining sounds. He chuckled. "She's so cute. She was still goin' like maybe if she kept at it she'd get something."
"Little glutton," her mother said affectionately. "Here, give her over so I can burp her. Thank you for feeding her."
"Oh anytime." He passed his niece over, then reached over to fan the cloth out on Ellie's shoulder.
Ellie got to bouncing Clara then, patting her back gently. "In the meantime, Chuck, you have to figure out a way to be okay with not knowing. Knowing it exists, but not knowing what it actually is. If that makes sense."
He groaned. "I get it. I know. It sucks, though."
"Well, I'm sure whatever it is that asshole found and tried to use against her probably sucked a lot for her. If that puts things into perspective for you."
Chuck winced. "Yeah, good point. But how do I get rid of this little mean voice in my head telling me she doesn't trust me?"
"Do you trust her?"
"With everything in me."
"And you still haven't spewed all your traumas at her."
"No. I haven't."
"So it isn't about whether she trusts you or not." She glanced over at Clara. "Are you gonna burp or what? Sheesh."
"But…" He made a pained face. "Why are you always so annoying, telling me the things I need to hear instead of what I want to hear? And you do it all the time, too."
Ellie giggled. "That's my job as your big sister. I smack you on the head when you need it. But I also kiss it to make it better." She pursed her lips and made a kissy face at him. She sobered up then after he rolled his eyes. "I'm worried about her, though. Speaking as a friend. Is she okay?"
"I think so." He nodded.
They'd finally fallen asleep well past sunrise the other morning, after they'd made up both verbally and physically, and when he woke up around noon, he found her in the kitchen wearing a pair of his boxers and his Stanford Academic Decathlon T-shirt, making breakfast. She'd seemed okay then, and she'd apologized again. And again. And again.
"She just keeps saying she's sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. A million apologies. But then…she won't tell me. Still. Like, I know she's sorry. She's sincere about it. I don't doubt that. But why can't she just…say it? Just tell me what it is."
"Pushing her into talking about it definitely isn't the way to go, even if you're only doing it in your own mind, Chuck. You're going to start to resent her, and I don't think you want that."
"Of course I don't."
"It isn't fair to resent her."
"I know!" He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm just…venting. I'm not going to push her, and I don't…expect anything from her. I'm just worried about her."
"So am I." Ellie adjusted Clara in her arms. "Not only getting threatened but having the guy threatening you bring up something painful you've been trying to repress for…who knows how long? God, that's rough."
"Yeah." He nodded. "I blew it, pushing her so hard after all of that. And I'll try not to be so butthurt over her not talking to me about her past. Or her family."
"Hey." She reached out with her sock-covered foot and poked his shin with her toe. "Don't be like that. You're allowed to be upset. Sounds like she laid into you, huh?" He nodded. "That's probably why she's apologizing so much. She knows she wasn't being fair."
"Yeah. You're right, though. I expect everyone to be as comfortable as I am with sharing personal stuff and my story and everything, but I shouldn't do that. Sarah's had a completely different life from me, and it's made her feel differently about…sharing. Unloading. I need to stop projecting myself onto her."
Clara finally let out a loud burp.
"Tharrrr she blooooows!" Chuck growled in his best pirate voice, making Ellie crack up. "Quite a set of lungs on 'er, huh?"
"Oh, you kiddin' me? That's only a three to a three point five on the Clara Burp Richter Scale."
Chuck laughed, helping Ellie clean up a little around the apartment so that she could put Clara down for a nap, but he still dwelled quite a bit on what his sister had said. He'd have to be okay with this, for as long as she needed him to be. He'd find a way to be okay with it. She was still here, and she loved him. They would be okay, and someday, he'd know what had put that deeply haunted look on Sarah Walker's face.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Sarah juggled the box of donuts and drink container with coffees in her arms as she unlocked the door, bumping it open with her hip and almost stumbling on her way in. She let out a squeak but kept her feet, dropping the keys in the entryway and rolling her eyes.
She'd slept like hell thanks to a nearby house party that had lasted all night, the sound of the live band and screaming teenagers wafting into her apartment building's courtyard from the giant two story craftsman house on the backside of the building. Her windows faced that way and she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Maybe a wink or two, but that was probably it.
And now she was clumsier than all get-out apparently.
She left the keys, walking into Chuck's condo, ready to whine about stupid teenagers and their crappy Friday night parties. He was sitting at his table near the window, in profile, clicking away at his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Morning," she said. It was like she hadn't said anything at all, though, as he continued to click away. He had his headphones on, the same ones she saw him use for gaming sometimes. So she thought maybe that was why he hadn't heard her. "I said good morning!" she called out, much louder this time.
Nothing.
"I brought you breakfast and coffee…" she tried. Nope. "Hey! Nerd!" She set the donuts and coffee on the kitchen bar and clapped a few times in his direction. "Helloooo?" And because she was sleep-deprived and feeling a little ridiculous, she came around behind him and sidled up close, not touching him as she leaned over his shoulder. She couldn't hear music or anything blasting into his ears, which meant he was wearing these to cancel sound. But she had a feeling nothing could cancel how loudly she'd been talking to him, which meant he was lost in whatever he was doing on the laptop.
And as she lifted her gaze to it, she saw that telltale screen, the numbers flitting over it. Hacking… He was hacking.
She felt nerves then. And she thought of the only thing that might snap him out of this, reaching up to pull the left earphones away from his left ear. "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope," she crooned into his ear.
Chuck went rigid. She stood to her full height, just missing getting whacked in the face as he reached up to shove the earphones back to fall to hang around his neck and whipped around in his chair. Eyes wide, he peered up at her. "Did you just say what I thought you said?"
God, the black eye notwithstanding, her man looked absolutely torn up. His good eye was even a little puffy, both of them bloodshot, his hair a mess, his face slack with exhaustion.
"Chuck, what are you doing? Also good morning."
"You just Leia Organa'd at me, Sarah. You don't get to just do that and then move on like it didn't happen."
"Well, you were in another freaking stratosphere, hot stuff, and I had to get your attention somehow." She winked as he gave her a turned on look. "Speaking of hot stuff…wait, c'mere." She grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him up to stand. His legs almost buckled under him but he held on tight to her, pressing his mouth to hers. She hummed after a few moments, breaking the kiss, and she reached up to gently poke at his black eye. "Did you get any sleep? You look wrecked."
"Oh thanks," he drawled sarcastically, looking amused at least. "I think I've had a breakthrough. I wanna show you this. Look." And he pulled her to his laptop at the table, making her plop down in the heinously comfortable gaming chair he'd been sitting in—he'd probably carried it over here from the living room, the dork. Leaning over her, his chin resting adorably on top of her head, he reached around her to do that crazy fast typing thing he did.
The numbers disappeared then, and instead his regular desktop was there in front of her face. It was a picture they'd taken together at Chuck's surprise birthday party, his arms around her, hugging her from the side, kissing her cheek sloppily as she burst into laughter. Ellie had taken it, she remembered, and Chuck had made it his background at some point.
And she found herself smiling at how sweet it was that he'd done that, even as he pulled up a media player.
"I got my hands on this, and I don't really know what you're going to say, or if you want to do anything with it. But I got it." And he clicked play.
It was grainy security camera footage of a construction site. …a construction site. "Oh my God," she breathed.
"Wait for it."
In walked Bertha Veracruz, clipboard in hand, wearing a hardhat and a dark business suit. Chuck fast-forwarded the clip a bit as she moved around the area, inspecting beams, windows, making notes on the clipboard.
He stopped it then. "Okay, viewer discretion advised."
"Is this the moment she…?"
"Yep."
"Oh my God. Chuck…" How did he get his hands on this?
But then a beam seemed to almost sway behind her as she knelt down, checking a corner of one of the walls, and it fell on her, knocking against her so that she toppled over the edge of the second floor and disappeared from site. Per her lawsuit, she fell into a pile of rubble on the first story, and the beam was the same one she'd taken notes on that hadn't been properly fortified. He'd told her when she made the note and brought it to him that it was fine, to just ignore it, so her lawsuit said. And for that to be the one that ended up nearly killing her?
No wonder she was suing him, no wonder she was so angry.
Sarah was incensed for her.
Even more than before, now that she'd seen this footage.
Chuck stopped the video.
"I thought they said this didn't exist," she breathed in awe. "How in the hell did you get your hands on this?"
"It exists, they just said it doesn't. They tried to hide it but were so cocky they didn't delete it and I found it."
Sarah turned to look up at him. "You…found it? How?"
"Um…" He winced. She gave him an expectant look. "Don't turn me in to the cops, please?"
"Oh God, I thought so. When I got here, you were hacking. I don't know what the hell any of it means, but I know what your screen looks like when you're hacking. How did you even manage this?"
He narrowed his eyes in a wince and sheepishly tapped his pointer fingers together a few times. It was kind of adorable. "I hacked into their security system and found an archive of all of their recordings. I had to really dig a whole lot. Practically all night, and I have seen a lot, and I mean a lot, of stray cats. I think I saw an urban coyote too maybe, but I dunno, it was, like three in the morning when I thought I saw it so I could've just been hallucinating. Or it was a raccoon. Most importantly, I finally found this footage in their archive, I made a copy of it, and now…well, here it is."
Sarah just gaped at the screen, before she turned to look up at him again. "Chuck, this is…insane. How do you get into their security footage archive from here?"
"I could tell you; it'd take a while. But man, these guys do not watch their asses at all. I just waltzed right in," he said with a manic giggle. "Ooohhh mannn, such morons. I mean, no security locks on their security system. And it took me, like, fifteen seconds to break in through their password. Pfffft. I've seen bad but this took the cake. Heh."
How was he so cute when he rambled about hacking?
And what was wrong with her that she wasn't absolutely freaking out that her boyfriend had just engaged in criminal activity, hacking into Macklin Construction's security systems in one of his construction sites and stealing incriminating footage?
This was absolutely illegal.
And it was also impressive.
"I can't believe you did this. I didn't even know it was possible to do this."
"Well, yeah, of course it is. C'mon. Once I found out Macklin has security systems complete with cameras all over his different sites because he hates homeless people, I knew this was something I could do." He shrugged as if it was no big deal, a simple thing that had been a total piece of cake. And somehow his complete lack of modesty over how much of a computer genius he was made heat rage through her.
"Wait, that wasn't in our dossier on him. How'd you know about the paranoia and the security systems and his hatred of the homeless? I mean, not that any of that is surprising…"
He shrugged. "I was walking Detective Rizzo out of the building the other day after she came to take our statements and she mentioned, ya know, just off the cuff, that Macklin's such a piece of shit, always calling the cops on the homeless because he thinks they carry disease—" Sarah made a grossed out face. "Yeah, he's a real piece of work, that guy. But then she said he keeps cameras in all of his construction sites so that he can report on it if he sees any homeless people trying to seek shelter in one of his sites, get 'em arrested like they don't have enough to worry about living on the streets an' all. These cameras are on twenty-four/seven. God forbid they have a roof over their head in inclement weather. Jesus."
Sarah snorted. "Of course she would have that kind of informa—" She stopped then, something occurring to her. Zondra had particularly requested Chuck walk her out. And then she just happened to mention—"off the cuff"—Macklin's hatred of the homeless and the fact that he had security cameras that were always on. Did she do it on purpose? Did she mention the cameras knowing Chuck was an observant listener, that he put things together in his head like they were pieces to a puzzle all the time? The man's brain was always going, always trying to figure things out. That was what made him the most brilliant person she'd ever met in her life.
Did Detective Rizzo know she was feeding a hacker fodder to steal this footage that might take down Macklin in a serious and massive lawsuit that had major implications?
What was more, did the LAPD detective do it to try to catch Chuck in a crime? Was she testing him? Seeing if he'd take the bait, waiting to see if that footage showed up in Bertha Veracruz's case? If it did, she would have to assume it was Chuck—the "anonymous" person who got that footage to the prosecution team.
"Chuck, this…this is amazing, but…" Nervous tingles went through her as she wondered if Detective Rizzo would show up to arrest Chuck, or maybe she'd show up with a team to arrest him? Did she know he was Piranha? Did she even know who Piranha was?
"What? This is exactly what the prosecution needs. Not only is there footage of the accident that corroborates every bit of evidence Bertha provides in her lawsuit, this is proof that Mark Macklin lied about two things." He excitedly moved to kneel in front of her, propping his arms on her thighs. "Look look look. I've been thinking about this. So…so, um, wait, lemme-lemme get my thoughts together because I just got hit with a massive wave of tired." He blinked a few times.
"Chuck, how early did you wake up to do this?"
"Um…I…didn't wake up?" He winced. She gave him a blank stare. "Meaning I didn't actually…sleep."
"Jesus! Chuck!"
"I know, I know. I get lost in these…hacking sessions and I just…down the rabbit hole I go. But that's not what I'm—Look, I was thinking about it, and—" He snapped his fingers, light coming to life in his gold-hued eyes. "Oh, I got it. I know. I remember. So, um, two things. One. He lied about there being footage. Because BLAM!" She jumped a bit at how sudden and loud that was. He pointed wildly at the screen. "There it is. Right there. A little grainy but it's timestamped and everything. Got 'im. But the second thing he lied about. He lied about the beam. He lied about the hole in the floor, and he lied about the site conditions just in general. To a judge! Under oath! So he's fucked if Bertha's lawyers get this footage, Sarah."
The thought of Chuck in handcuffs flashed through her head, though, and as much as she would love to see Bertha Veracruz take Mark Macklin for everything he was worth and end his empire altogether, Chuck's safety and freedom was so much more important to her.
"We can't. I…I'm so insanely impressed and shocked that you were able to do this. You're…so impressive." She shook her head in awe at him. "But Chuck, baby, we can't do this. We can't let anyone know you've hacked into Macklin's construction site's security system like this."
"They won't know."
"This isn't my case, Chuck. I didn't take it. And we agreed, the reason why you didn't press charges when he gave you this," she pointed to his eye, "is because we wanted to just get the bastard out of our lives, away from me, my agency, you. Let bygones be bygones and move on, you know?"
"I know. I know, but we can still stay uninvolved even if I make sure the prosecution gets this footage that will help their case and take Macklin's lying criminal ass down, Sarah. You know I can cover my tracks, Sarah, it's what I do." He gave her a bit of a cocky smile and she felt that heat again.
There was one person who would know, even if Chuck did cover his tracks. And that was Zondra Rizzo, detective with the LAPD.
"Look, for now, Chuck, will you just do me a favor?"
"Anything."
The immediacy of him saying that, the sincerity. She wanted to just fall into him and never let go of him again. "Will you just sit on this for now? We'll make a final decision when we're not both sleep deprived and hungry. Deal?"
He winced. "That…might be a good idea, huh? Maybe our brains aren't working altogether properly at the moment. Yeah, I'm tired. And hungry. Want me to whip something up for us to eat and then we can snuggle-nap on the couch?"
She giggled, framing his face in her hands and leaning in to kiss his forehead. "I brought coffee and donuts, and I was thinking more like your bed." His jaw fell open and he wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh. No. Chuck. Honey. That's not happening until I get at least five hours of sleep under my belt. You're sweet, though."
He laughed. "Okay fair. Donuts, coffee, bed. And, um, sleep specifically." He pushed himself up to his full height with a groan. And then he snapped his fingers. "Oh. Forgot." He dug in his sweatpants pocket and tugged a jump drive out. "Made a few copies, just in case." He tapped his temple and winked.
"My genius hacker tech guy," she drawled, letting him help her up out of his chair and not stopping until her arms were around his shoulders and her lips were pressed to his.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The two women sat across from one another, staring, unblinking.
Sarah didn't even reach out to grab the cup of coffee she sorely needed this late at night. She just kept staring at the brunette across from her, not breaking her gaze for even a moment.
And when the silence became unbearable, she finally spoke up.
"I'll just shoot straight with you, Detective Rizzo."
"That'd be for the best, I think."
"If security footage from one of Mark Macklin's construction sites showed up in the possession of a certain Bertha Veracruz's lawyer team—anonymously, shall we say—I wouldn't have to worry about my boyfriend being cuffed and taken in to the station, would I? Or worse, the FBI raiding his condo?"
Zondra's eyes widened. "He didn't…"
"No," Sarah lied quickly. "He didn't. But he's…capable of it. And if that happened… Well, you're a smart cookie, Detective Rizzo. I have a feeling you'd be able to put two and two together after that Fitbit case, and what you…might have guessed about Chuck Bartowski's particular…" She cast her gaze around the room. "…talents."
"Oh, I would've known it was him. Absolutely. Well, maybe not absolutely. But I would've guessed, at least. I would've been pretty sure."
Sarah sighed and nodded, finally picking up the mug of coffee and bringing it to her lips to take a sip. God, these twenty-four/seven diners LA cops frequented had the strongest damn coffee. The last time she went to one of these to meet up with Casey, the coffee had nearly made her choke it was so strong. "I figured as much. Thing is, I'm not so sure I trust you won't…go after him. It'd be a pretty good bust, maybe. A hacker who's breaking into Macklin's security systems…"
Zondra looked downright offended as she leaned forward. "Hey, I'm no fuckin' rat."
"I didn't say you were a fucking rat. But you are a fucking cop, Rizzo, and if he were to do this, he'd…technically be a criminal."
The other woman rolled her eyes and looked away, taking a long drink of her own coffee and setting the mug back down slowly. "Look, maybe I…might have some vested interest in seeing Mark Macklin…in some trouble. So…" She sent Sarah a severe look. "…if you don't trust me not to throw your rich nerd boyfriend in prison for no good reason, just because I can I guess, then at least trust that I'd like to see that piece of shit Macklin lose everything that's given him even a speck of power."
Sarah blinked. "You have a history?"
"None of your business. Just know that I've seen what he's capable of and if it just so happens something incriminating ends up in the right hands, then so be it. I'll be munching some fuckin' popcorn watching the shithead go down." She grunted and it was almost similar to one of Casey's. "The nerd is safe, okay? I'm not going after 'im. Like I said before, s'long as he stays outta my way."
Sarah raised her eyebrows and smiled a little. "You fed him that shit about Macklin hating the homeless, being paranoid, and having a security system fit with cameras in every construction site to keep them out, didn't you?"
The cop looked very innocent as she shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know what you mean. I didn't feed him anything. The two of us were just chatting about…different things."
"Uh huh."
"Okay, fine, but I wasn't lying about any of it. It's all true. I just maybe…made sure that the truth got into the, um, hands of someone who'd be able to do something with it."
Sarah studied the other woman, fascinated by the sort of detective she was. A good one, smart, decisive, strong, clever, hardworking. But she also seemed not to have any qualms about letting Chuck illegally hack in order to hand a corrupt construction tycoon his ass.
"Look, just don't tell the guy I'm over here helping him do this shit, okay? Or that I know about his special little talent. I don't want him getting cocky, first of all…" Oh no, Chuck totally would get cocky. That was something about his code mode, as he said Morgan dubbed it, that she found pretty irresistible. "And secondly, if he thinks he's got some guardian angel at the station, protecting him from getting busted for doing a bunch of illegal hacking shit, he's gonna get himself into some real trouble. I'd save my ass over his every time."
Nodding, Sarah sipped more of her coffee. "No, you're right. I'm not telling him you know."
"Good. If I hear about a certain asshole construction guy losing in a lawsuit that's gonna cost him an arm and a leg, because of some grainy security cam footage sent to the prosecutor's team by some anonymous Robin Hood wannabe, I won't think anything of it. Just some kind of…masked vigilante showing a complete bastard what consequences feel like. Nothing to do with me." She shrugged and went into the pocket of her leather jacket, slapping a bill down on the table. "Coffee's on me. I gotta get home. Early stakeout in the morning."
Sarah nodded. "I'll get the next one, then," she said.
"Promise?" Zondra snickered, thrusting out a hand as she stood up. Sarah took it, shaking it warmly. "See ya around, Walker."
"See ya. Hey." Zondra turned from where she was leaving and raised her eyebrows in question. Sarah smiled. "Thanks for running interference for my guy. Again."
"Sure. I hope he's as good as you say he is." She wiggled her fingers in a wave and left Sarah alone at the table.
"He is," she said to herself, smirking. Since he'd technically already done everything but that last step: making sure the team of lawyers helping Bertha got that footage.
Her phone rang then and she dug into her pocket to take it out. She pursed her lips in curiosity upon seeing who it was, answering it. "Hey, Chuck. What's up?"
"Oh good, you're awake." He sounded like he had adrenaline pumping through him, breathless, frazzled.
"What is it? What's wrong? You okay?" She got up from the table, hurrying out of the diner, pushing through the door and half-jogging to her car. From here it would take her maybe ten minutes to get to his apartment if she didn't follow driving laws.
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, no, I'm totally fine. I just need you to come to my place as quickly as you can because I, um, did…a thing. Another thing. Again. And you need to see it."
"Be right there."
Something told her he wasn't going to be showing her an impressionist painting he did of Echo Park when she got to his condo.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"Shit! Holy shit!" Chuck fumbled up out of his chair and rushed towards his briefcase, forgetting he had his headphones still on long enough to get jerked back a little. Making a strangled noise, he ripped them off his head, put them on his gaming chair, and rushed to his briefcase.
His fingers shook as he grabbed a jump drive out of the outer pocket and dashed back to his laptop. Even as he copied the blueprints onto the drive, he dialed Sarah's phone. He hadn't meant to make her think he was being murdered, he really hadn't…
But he was pretty sure he'd found what he'd been looking for since early that morning once he found the security footage of Bertha's accident. Further proof that the woman wasn't lying, that Macklin was the liar.
He just wished he had some knowledge of blueprints like these…it was a first draft, with notes on it that Macklin looked to have initialed.
But he'd only had a chance to half glance at it before Sarah burst into his condo like a bat out of hell.
"What is it? Are you okay?" she asked again, shrugging out of her jacket and dropping it over the back of his couch along with her bag as she rushed to his side.
"Oh, I'm fantastic, Sarah Walker, P.I.. Just look for yourself and you'll see why." He gestured at the screen and she didn't even question, merely leaning over his shoulder and looking.
"Are these…blueprints?"
"Yep."
"Of what?"
"The building where Bertha Veracruz met an untimely accident."
"What?!" she snapped.
"First draft, too. The Cloud is forever, Sarah. The Cloud is forever." He snickered evilly as she scrolled across the measured lines and numbers, taking them in. "Oh my God, right here. Here's where she got the beam to her head, and she fell right there," she muttered under her breath. "Can you print this stuff out?"
"I'll do you one better. I'll zoom to make it large and print it in multiple pieces. We'll have to tape 'em together, but…"
"You fucking genius." She grabbed him, leaning down to kiss him hard. "I love you so much. Print. You print. I'll make coffee." She moved to go to the kitchen, but on second thought it seemed, spun back to lean down and kiss him again. "I love you."
He chuckled, giddy as he got to printing.
It took over an hour for them to move some of his furniture to make room for it on the floor, taping, arguing a little over what went where, but finally getting a large blueprint splayed out over his hardwood floor, both of them pouring over it for a few hours, well into the night.
"What's this? Some kind of note? Can you pass the magnifying glass?"
Chuck scrambled around the blueprints to sidle up next to her and handed her the magnifying glass. Both of them leaned closer to look.
"Oh my God, he has the safety requirement lifted, and he's calculated where he's gonna have his guys come in, under the legal amount. He signed off on it. That's his fucking signature." She straightened up, covering her mouth. "Chuck," she mumbled, muffled by her hand. She dropped her hands again and shook her head. "Chuck, how did…? You… Oh my God, we can't not send this. What a horrific criminal. How many more people could've been hurt? How many of his buildings has he done this shit with?"
Chuck was absolutely buzzing. "I know. I had the same thought. But I've been searching for something, some sort of plans or…or an email…anything that would show he was a lying, inept criminal, and I just found this and…jackpot. I thought—I mean, you're the P.I. so I knew if you came and looked at this, that you'd find something, because you're brilliant."
Sarah spun towards him and put her hand on the side of his face, beaming so hard he felt a little dizzy from how beautiful it was. "I wouldn't have seen it if my genius nerd hadn't gotten me this far."
"So what you're saying is we're a ridiculously effective team…?"
"It would seem that way." She turned back to the blueprints, grabbed a pen, and circled the note wildly. "Chuck, if we don't act on this information, if we don't get it to those lawyers, somebody else is gonna get hurt, or maybe even die, because of this asshole cutting corners to save money."
He nodded, adrenaline coursing through him like nothing else. "You're right. You're totally right. I can do it. I'll cover my tracks. They'll never know where it came from. Between the video footage he lied about having, and this evidence in a draft of the building's blueprints, I think they're gonna destroy him. He's done."
"He's done," she breathed.
"You're a genius."
"You're a genius."
And maybe it wasn't the best place for it—in fact, he knew it was probably a pretty bad place for it—but when Sarah kissed him this time, the buzzing and the adrenaline became something else: a need and a hunger that had both of them tearing and ripping at clothes, falling onto the blueprints he'd printed out hours earlier. They joined, a deliciously cold mixture of wood floor and printer paper under his back as she began to move above him. He grabbed onto her hips and held on for dear life. And they didn't stop.
They didn't stop.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
A/N: I just realized this chapter is chapter 69 hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe
I feel like that alone is worth a review, don't you? Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe
-SC