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: So anyway I deleted a guest review screaming at me for making the Chuck characters woke as if the main characters in canon didn't deeply care about people. (Except for maybe Casey lol) Like they were all just kicking shit over like "fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you" and not caring who got hurt in the process. If you toss a word like "woke" at me, it just means you're too dumb to do anything else but sling catchphrases you saw on your non-peer-reviewed "political" blogs written by dudes living in their grandma's basement, using a picture of Brad Pitt as their profile pic to stay anonymous. That word is meaningless. Your "review" was meaningless. Enjoy reading about your favorite characters giving a shit about people... Excruciating though it may be for you.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The Detective and the Tech Guy Versus the System, Part 2
She stared down at her phone, the name Mary Bartowski sitting there on the screen, the icon that said Call on it literally making her sweat. Her thumb hovered over it and she pulled it back again, setting the phone back on her desk. She swiveled her chair around and rolled it towards the Venetian blinds, not having realized the sun had mostly gone down by now. She hated having these open when it was nighttime. Unless she was peeking through them to watch the people on the streets below.
The neon sign from the Chinese takeout restaurant a few floors down was bright enough that the light slipped through the open blinds and projected a strange red glow onto her office ceiling. That was kind of cool. But she shut the blinds anyway.
And then she dusted the blinds because they needed to be dusted.
There were a lot of things in this office that needed dusting.
And that was how she ended up sitting back in her chair again a half hour later, her whole office dusted, and Mary Bartowski's name still up on her phone, ready to be called.
While her phone might be ready, Sarah Walker, Private Investigator, was definitely not ready. She was the most un-ready she'd ever been in her entire twenty-eight years of life.
How did this woman who was half a foot shorter than her instill this much fear into her? She wasn't even sure if it came down to it, she'd beat this woman in hand to hand combat. Why her brain jumped to that, she didn't know. But she was pretty sure Chuck and Ellie's mom might put up a really fucking good fight if it ever came down to it. Sarah would win eventually, she knew, but she'd come out of it wrecked.
And now she had images in her mind of beating the shit out of her boyfriend's mother…right before she was supposed to be calling her to ask if she knew of any good lawyers. She had to ask this woman for help. Somehow.
This was stupid. She was fed up with this tension between her and Mary Bartowski. But what was she supposed to do about it?
If the woman walked up to her, said "let's let bygones be bygones and drop this whole thing", Sarah would. Even if it meant she didn't get an apology she thought she rightly deserved. She'd easily drop all of it, shake the woman's hand, and try to forge a truce, some kind of…peaceful middle ground.
But the problem was that she couldn't imagine Mary Bartowski doing that. She had this soul deep distrust of Sarah that she apparently wasn't willing to shake. How Mary still thought she was hanging onto Chuck for his money and his involvement in B.E.C., Sarah didn't know. It wasn't fair. They'd gotten into a massive blowout about him paying her office's rent because she didn't want him shelling his money out towards her. How much more evidence did Mary need?
A sacrifice at her satanic witchy altar?
Sarah rolled her eyes at herself. "Okay, you just made her sound super awesome, you idiot," she muttered out loud to herself.
The young detective snatched up her phone again and shook her head. She needed to be a grown up.
There was no doubt in her mind that she was spending the rest of her life with Chuck Bartowski, however that ended up happening, whatever the future looked like. Nothing was ever going to break this thing up. It was clear to her now, probably the clearest thing in her whole existence. And that was something she might have to dwell on later when she got home and soaked in a bath with some whiskey maybe.
But being with Chuck forever meant Mary Bartowski would also be there. She was his mother. Whether Mary despised her son's girlfriend's guts or not, Sarah knew she was going to have to learn how to call the woman on the phone. She was going to need her for things. They were going to have to interact. And she was going to have to figure out how to put her hurt feelings, anger, and dislike of the woman on the back burner.
Just like that, her phone rang. Oh good. Thank God.
She couldn't make the call because someone else was calling. Oh well.
She turned it over and saw that it was Chuck. Smiling, she swiped to answer and held the phone to her ear. "Well, well, well."
He snorted. "Is that how you're answering the phone now? Well, well, well?"
"I don't know. It felt like the right thing at the time. Hi, you. What's up?"
"Um…not…much. Not much. I was thinking…I'm hungry. Am I allowed to come get you so we can eat?"
She glanced at her watch and saw it was a pretty good time for dinner, and she supposed she was hungry too. But then she thought about the way he sounded, a little quiet, tentative. "Yeah, let's get dinner. I'm at my office. But hold on… is there something happening? Something going on?"
"What d'you mean?"
"You sound weird."
"Baby, this is just how I sound. Hate to break it to you."
She rolled her eyes. "Chuck."
"No, no," he chuckled. "Nothing's wrong. I just haven't seen you in a few days and I miss ya. And I'm hungry. How long do you need before you want me to come get you?"
Not entirely convinced, she sighed and shrugged. "Half hour okay?"
"I'll be there in thirty minutos. Oh! Hey, I never asked you. Did you ever talk to my mom about a lawyer for that mesothelioma case?"
Ugh, really Chuck? Damn it.
"Uh, no not yet. I was just about to call her when you called."
"Oh! Yeah, like I said yesterday when we talked, only guys I was able to find are pricey. And I could maybe get one of my old college pals to do it pro bono, but I don't think you…"
She winced. "No, but thanks."
"Yeah, didn't think so. Thought I'd just toss it out there as a possibility. But I'll save that up for if B.E.C. ever goes under and I have two cents to my name and I need a lawyer."
"Don't put that bad juju into the world, Chuck."
"You're right. I just knocked on wood so I think I'm safe. Call my mom. She'll be able to help, I promise." He was quiet then, and she was quiet, and she knew he was quiet because she was quiet. Damn it. "Sarah. I know you don't really want to talk to her because she's…um, well, her." Still tiptoeing around calling his mother a bitch when she was a bitch, Sarah thought to herself. She couldn't really blame him, but sometimes she just wished he could say it when it was the truth. Ellie seemed not to mind saying it to Sarah. "If you want me to talk to her about it, I can. Offer still stands."
"No. I'm going to call her. Things piled up and I didn't get a chance to before now. But I'm going to call her right after I hang up with you." He was quiet again and she sighed. "I'm not trying to pretend I'm not tripping balls over the prospect of talking to her about this, asking for a favor. Everyone knows she'd rather shove me off a cliff than help me with one of my cases."
"Hey. Don't talk like that. My mom's not gonna shove you off a cliff, Sarah. Not anymore, at least. I've made it clear to her that you aren't going anywhere. And that if she tries to push you away and you do go, I'm going with you."
Sarah raised her eyebrows, and there was that warmth in her again. She still had that night when Chuck got majorly wasted on his roof and was on the outs with his family over her involvement in the Pasfield case trapped in her chest, and she thought of it sometimes when she was alone in bed trying to fall asleep. How he mumbled that he'd pick her if he had to make a choice between her and his family.
"Okay, the shove me off a cliff thing was maybe extreme. You're right. But she does hate me and she thinks I'm going to ruin your life. Like, she's holding out for it, probably prays for it at night." To her lord and savior Beelzebub. "So yeah, the prospect of calling her and asking if she knows any good lawyers for my clients is mildly petrifying."
She heard Chuck sigh heavily. "I don't blame you for feeling that way. She's awful to you and I'm—It bugs me so bad. It makes me feel nuts. And so angry. She's a massive problem."
"Yeah. She is. But…I need to maybe channel my inner Captain Awesome and figure out how to maneuver around that." He giggled softly. "No, seriously. Devon's so good at dealing with your mom's bullshit."
"Oh, it hurts his feelings big time. Don't think it doesn't."
"Sure it does but… I don't know, Chuck. All I know is that you and me? We're playing a long game, here. So I need to be able to reach out to her and talk to her on the phone if it means helping clients who really, really need help. I need to be able to converse with your mom."
"Look, I'm getting into my car right now. I'm headed over. And I'll see you a lot sooner than thirty minutes from now because I want to. If my mom is anything less than supremely polite, if she tries to dig at you, tell me. Please. Because I'll have another talk with her. I will keep talking to her, keep pushing her, keep making it clear to her that no matter what shit she pulls with you, I'm in this with you fore—Well. Long game. Like you said."
Sarah had heard part of the word he'd used and she could fill in the rest of it. It sent a burst of nervous tingles through her. She couldn't help it. Forever.
She'd just been thinking the same thing, but hearing him nearly say it? Knowing he wanted this to be forever too? It hit different.
She let out a slow breath. "Okay, see you soon."
"See you soon. And hey…"
"What?"
"I love you so hard."
Sarah giggled. "I love you harder than hard."
They hung up and she pulled Mary's number up again, hitting the call icon. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit times infinite.
And fuck.
She let herself get one last verbal "fuck" out as she heard the ringing. And then…
"Hello?"
"Hi. This…This is Mary Bartowski?"
"Yes, Sarah. This is Mary Bartowski."
Oof.
"Oh. You…know it's me. Okay. Hi, sorry, I wasn't sure if you'd have my number."
"I do have you in my phone, yes. Is there—Chuck." Sarah heard some concern in her voice then. "Is it Chuck? Is he okay?"
"Chuck is fine," Sarah rushed out. "He's totally fine. I'm not calling about Chuck."
"Oh. Well. Good." She heard tentativeness then. "Then…?"
"Then why am I calling you if it isn't about Chuck?" Sarah filled in for her. Mary's silence was confirmation. "I don't blame you for wondering. See, I have a client, she's in a really bad spot. Lost thousands of dollars to a law firm that lured her into a trap case she was never gonna win. She's very sick and has no money to pay for her care now and I'm looking for a lawyer who might take up their case to get their money back from this shady law firm."
"She's sick?" Mary asked.
"Mesothelioma."
"Oh God." The other woman sighed heavily. "Those commercials."
"That's exactly what happened. Her granddaughter came to me to see if I can do anything about this law firm and getting that money back. And while I'm pretty good at investigation, I'm no lawyer. And I can't get their money back to them without a lawyer."
"Sounds like malpractice could be one route. It's malpractice to take a client's money and head intro trial with no intention of winning."
"It's worse," Sarah said. "They mishandled the evidence, mishandled the case on the whole, just bungled the whole freaking thing, top to bottom. The case was dismissed. And they kept my client's money. Now she's in debt and she's dying, and the company she worked for that exposed her and got her sick when she was younger gets away scot-free."
"Deplorable," Mary muttered. "So you called me for…?"
"Oh. Right. Sorry. Of course. Let me get to the point. I asked Chuck if he knew of any lawyers who would take this case at a cheap rate. A good lawyer. No more of these conmen calling themselves lawyers on people's screens while they're watching TV in the middle of the day. A real lawyer who intends to win back my client's money."
Mary made a thoughtful sound. "B.E.C. won't be able to help. As I'm sure you know, Sarah, it's one of the most successful and highest grossing tech companies in the world." Sarah heard and felt the dig there. As I'm sure you know. Right, because that's why she went after Chuck. Nice rich boy with good hair. It had nothing to do with the electric current that ran between them the moment they met, or his kindness, the way his giggle sounded different and happier when he was giggling over her doing something dorky. Nothing to do with any of that. It was his money and his thick dark curls. She'd made pretty quick work of him too, thank you.
"Yeah, I understand that the lawyers Stephen and Chuck come into contact with expect big paychecks. I thought I'd just see anyway. I'm still new to LA and haven't had my agency for long enough to have those connections just yet."
"Fair enough."
"The thing is, Mrs. Bartowski… Erm, well, Chuck said he couldn't find anybody who'd fit the bill, but he seems to think you'd be able to. He said you have connections in the LA law scene. And he told me to ask you to see if you knew anybody who'd be able to help." When Mary was quiet, she rushed out, "At-at least if you knew of anyone who'd be willing to sit down and talk to my clients."
"You're…asking for my help?"
"Yes," Sarah said. "Please. I am asking for your help. If you know of anyone, if you can find someone, who would help them. Not for me, but for…them," she added, wondering if that would do anything to get Mary to agree to this.
Mary sighed and made a humming sound that Sarah couldn't read. But then she said, "Okay. Off the top of my head, I'm having trouble. But I want to hear more about this. I'm getting dinner on the table for Stephen and I and a few of our friends, but do you have time tomorrow?"
Sarah widened her eyes and sat up a bit straighter. "Yes, absolutely. I-I'm sorry if I interrupted—"
"You didn't. It's fine. I have some contacts here in my home office. Are you free around noon tomorrow? I have extra hardboiled eggs. Do you eat egg salad?"
"Y-yes. I do. That sounds…good."
"Okay. Come to my house tomorrow at noon. We'll see who we can find for your clients."
Sarah was knocked right back onto her ass. She didn't know what to say or how to say it. And she had to gather herself quick because the silence was stretching out way too long. "Thank you. Thank you, Mrs. Bartowski. This is going to be life or death for this family if we're able to get them a good lawyer to get them through this. But it…also means a lot to me. So thank you."
"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yes. Absolutely."
She slowly set down the phone after they hung up, gaping at the phone for a moment, then lifting her gaze to stare straight ahead at her open office door. It was then that the outer door opened.
And she was still in a state of shock when her boyfriend appeared in the doorway of her office. He stopped upon seeing her and the look on her face. His beaming grin dropped into an immediate frown of concern.
"Oh God," he breathed. "What'd she say this time?"
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
She could handle this, and he knew she could handle this. But it didn't escape him that not only did his mom's antipathy towards her upset Sarah, but she intimidated the crap out of her too in a lot of ways. He wasn't sure if that would ever be something his girlfriend would admit, but he knew Mary Bartowski intimidated Sarah Walker.
Still, he knew she could handle it.
And yet…Chuck practically ran out of his office to his car, jumped behind the wheel, and sped to Sarah's agency. A half hour? Nah. Try ten minutes. If he ran a few red lights.
Which he did.
This case and these clients were all important to Sarah, and he knew it. She didn't have to say it because he saw it and felt it with how hard she was working. She'd spent a lot of time investigating and searching the greater Los Angeles area for a lawyer who'd take the Donohue case. And it wasn't just to avoid calling his mom for help, he knew. She did it because she was angry, angry that con artist TV lawyers were taking these people for everything that they had, even as the poor woman was dying.
She wanted to take the bastards down.
And he loved that about her. It was one of his favorite things and that was saying a lot because there was so much about her that was incredible and fantastic. She was worthy of decades upon decades' worth of comic books heroizing her.
Chuck wasn't about to say that out loud to her, though, because she'd groan at him for it.
Either way, he'd grown up with his mom, he knew her, and he even knew this version of her that was different from the one he'd known as a kid, the one that clung to this life, this success, and the things that came with it, to within an inch of her life. Sometimes at the detriment of other, more important things. Like a functional relationship with her only daughter.
He knew both versions of his mom, front to back, top to bottom, and he had no idea how she was going to receive Sarah's plea for help.
And he thought maybe he should be there at Sarah's side when she got off the phone with his mom. For moral support.
Which was why as he pushed into her agency, walking through the outer lobby to her personal office and noticing the stark silence coming from the room, his face fell upon seeing her. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, shock etched onto her pretty features, her back ramrod straight as she sat in her chair, her hand still draped over her cell phone which she'd set on her desk.
His mom had belittled her again, hadn't she? Dressed her down. Taken her apart, word by word.
He would show up at her door in the morning, livid, and he would do the same thing to her. He was so sick of this shit.
"Oh God," he breathed. "What'd she say this time?"
Sarah opened her mouth further to speak, but seemed speechless, blinking and shaking her head. "We're having egg salad tomorrow at your parents' house." What? …What? "She wants to know more about the Donohues and their case, and then she's going to help me find them a lawyer. She-She has contacts she's going to go through in her home office."
Chuck's jaw dropped. "Egg salad?" His shoulders slumped a little. "She hasn't made me an egg salad sandwich since I came back from college for holidays. What the crap?"
"Chuck."
"S-Sorry." He cleared his throat and came into the office further. "That's not the important part of this and I-I know that. I'm just…glad. I'm so glad."
"I'm a little worried, honestly. Shocked and worried." He tilted his head in question, walking around her desk to be beside her and leaning on the edge of it, facing her. She lifted her gaze to look at him. "What if I get there and she opens the floor under my feet and I plunge into an alligator infested pit?" She mimicked pulling a floor lever with her hand.
He couldn't help laughing. "I love you so much it hurts, Sarah." She glared, but there was still affection in her face. He saw it plain as day. "I spent a good chunk of time living in that house during and after college, before I got my place I have now, and I would know if we had any levers that opened the floor, and I'd know if we had underground pits full of gators. You kidding me? I'd absolutely know if we had pet alligators!"
She tilted her head dubiously. "Does anybody really have a pet alligator, though?"
Chuck pursed his lips, trying not to laugh, keeping the game up. And then he pointed and tilted his own head. "Touché, Sarah Walker, P.I…Touché."
Giggling, she reached up and put her hand on his thigh, squeezing. And then she used her grip to pull her rolling chair closer to him, and she didn't stop until she was hugging him around his waist, draping her head in his lap, nuzzling his thigh with her cheek.
It was the most adorable thing she'd ever done and he wanted to take her out of here, buy her dinner, take her home, and cuddle her for the rest of the night.
Instead, he put his hand on her head and gently stroked his fingers over her hair.
"That was the weirdest, most strained conversation I've had with your mom, and at the same time she was telling me to come over to her house for egg salad tomorrow and insisting she would help me with this case. She seems not only interested in the situation, it felt like…I don't know, maybe she wants to help. But she was still all…terse and taciturn. Like I'm supposed to just not be weirded out and shocked by how easily she said yes…?"
"Ah." He nodded sagely and Sarah turned her head to prop her chin on his leg, pouting up at him and furrowing her brow in question. "There's the mother I know and love. She's keeping you on your toes, Sarah. She feeds off of that shit. Always has, even before B.E.C. got to be what it is."
"Keeping me on my toes? How—Oh." She rolled her eyes and lifted her chin from his lap, shaking her head and heaving a massive sigh. "She doesn't want to be too predictable, does she? Pull the rug out from under me. I go in expecting her to be rude and mean and she agrees to help and even offers food. What's the over/under on her putting poison in the egg salad?"
"Sarah…" he drawled in a half-assed warning tone. He really didn't blame her for that crack.
She winced. "Sorry. I'm not trying to insinuate your mother would murder me. But this was a very shocking conversation. Ugh, the most shocking part wasn't that she agreed, it genuinely felt like she was listening to what I said about my clients, and that she was pissed about what's happening to them. She might actually…care."
Chuck wasn't sure what to say about that. Because his girlfriend was shocked that his mom cared about other people who were faced with injustices outside of their own control, and that wasn't a great feeling. And he knew it wasn't Sarah's fault, that it was his mom's fault. It still felt pretty terrible.
"Sorry," Sarah said with another wince, rubbing her hand up and down the outside of his thigh. "I don't mean to be a jerk. It's just… She's your mom, so I'm sure you've seen a lot of moments where she's been soft and squishy and warm; it's just that I haven't been allowed to see that side of her at all."
"I know. You're right. And I'm not upset with you for being shocked. I'm upset with her. She's why you're shocked she's got a warm and caring side, because she's been such a shit head about and to you. And I'm so sorry, Sarah. It doesn't make any sense and if I could change it…"
"It's okay."
"It isn't. At all." He huffed and shook his head. "But maybe tomorrow you'll actually get to see some of that?"
"Do I die before I get to see it, or after? That's the question." He gave her a flat look and she giggled, wrinkling her nose. "Sorry. Had to. Honestly, I'm still a little shaken up. That was the most intense conversation I think I've ever been a part of."
"But you did it, and I'm proud of you. And I'm taking you to eat wherever you want."
She groaned happily. "I want a gyro. A giant one, covered in sauce."
Chuck laughed. "Thought about this already, did you?"
"Maybe," she said with her cute one shoulder shrug.
"You got it. And, um…" He slid off of the desk and leaned over, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair, his face close so that he could bump her nose with his. "Maybe we can have a sleepover?"
This got him an even happier groan and a kiss to boot.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
She had this way of sitting sometimes when they were all snuggled up on his couch watching television together, where she tilted her head just so and it left her jaw and her neck and her shoulder exposed to him. Sometimes it didn't faze him. And then other times it was distracting.
Like now.
He was distracted.
Sure, she'd put a movie on that she wanted him to watch. Something she'd watched as a kid and put on repeat over and over apparently for a whole year of her life. And he really should be paying attention, especially because she'd waffled over showing it to him in the first place, obviously sort of embarrassed and shy about it.
She got like that about things she'd never felt secure enough to show other people, and he felt a deep warmth that she trusted him with it.
So he should really, really be paying attention.
But the jawline and neck combination that was going on so close to his face, his lips in particular, and then add the way the oversized sweater she put on after they got back to his place was half falling off of her shoulder, and he was so damn distracted.
He wrapped his arm even tighter around her midsection and lifted his other hand to take a sip from his martini. "I have a question."
"What's your question?" She snagged the remote and paused it, which was kind of cute. Good to know, too. When it was a movie that was hers, something she was showing him, that she'd really, really loved, he'd better watch every freaking second of it. No talking. He'd already gotten a light slap on his knee for groaning about one of the musical numbers. He couldn't help it; it was such a cheesy song.
"My question is this. Did little Sarah like this movie because she thought the blind stable boy guy with the pet hawk was a hottie?"
She elbowed him teasingly. "Hey. First of all, he is."
"Really? I'm intrigued."
"Secondly, Charles Irving Bartowski, I was really little when I got this movie on VHS, okay? And I wasn't at a point where I thought boys were hotties. I thought they were annoying."
He laughed. "And that's different than now how exactly?"
She snorted, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. "That's a fair point. You're kind of annoying right now."
"What?!"
"I'm trying to show you this movie that was critical to my development as a strong and secure young woman." She gestured at the television with the hand that was holding the remote, then pushed off from him just enough to take a long sip from her own martini, before she laid herself back into his chest again. "And you're making me pause it so you can ask dumb questions."
"Hey, not a dumb question. I'm well within my rights as your boyfriend to know what your type is."
"Tiny Child Sarah's type? You creep."
Chuck laughed so hard he almost choked on the alcoholic liquid he'd just swallowed, and Sarah sat up quickly, putting some distance there.
"Jesus!" she laughed. "Do not spit martini on me!"
He coughed a bit and thumped himself on the chest, seriously tickled. "I thought you love my martinis."
"Not when it's coming out of your mouth onto my head."
"Noted."
She snorted and gave him a few pats on the chest. "You okay, nerd?"
"Yep," he rasped. "You got me with that one. I am not a creep. I'll tell you who I had the hots for when I was a little kid."
"You don't have to. I already know it was some superhero woman in a comic book."
Chuck frowned at her teasingly. "Well, it's a good guess but no. Her name was Karly Martin. But I called her Miss Martin. She was my second grade teacher and she was the prettiest and funniest person in the whole wide world. And she didn't make fun of me for my Batman sneakers like some of my classmates did. She said that Batman was a good role model, and maybe I would grow up to be just like him." He grinned widely. "Wherever Miss Martin is, I bet she's proud of herself for pegging that little kid right all those years ago." He winked.
She laughed and then turned to look at him better. "Awwww, you had a crush on your teacher? That's so adorable. I bet she thought you were pretty damn cute."
Chuck snorted. "Cutest little seven year old on the block. I mean come on, have you seen these?" He let go of her waist and reached up to tug on one of his dark curls.
Beaming at him, she gave him a long look. "You are kind of Batman, aren't you? Minus the horrific origin story. Also, you don't beat up criminals. You don't beat up anybody."
"I'm a lover, not a fighter."
"You're picking fun at yourself with that, I know, but I'm very serious about this: I absolutely love that about you, Chuck." She strained to kiss his jaw. "I reap all the benefits."
He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then muttered, "Are you talking about sex?"
"Oh my God. I'm pressing play and you're going to hush and pay attention."
"Are there anymore songs in this? Asking for my ears." She gave him a look and he winced. "Okay, I'm teasing. I promise. This actually isn't terrible. I see why you were so obsessed with it."
With one last dubious look, she turned around and pressed play.
He was wisely quiet for the rest of the movie, but that didn't mean he paid as much attention to it as she probably wanted him to. Because he'd been dwelling all day on his own predicament at B.E.C., a predicament that wasn't as easy to fix as he hoped. The more he sat down and talked to his subordinates in the different departments, the more he was realizing they needed a complete overhaul in their hiring process and methods. And he needed to be way more involved in that process too.
One of his hiring managers had told him earlier that day that he was just picking "the best candidates for the job" and not "looking at the gender or the skin color", but when Chuck looked at the people he'd hired, they were all men and all white. There was just no way every good candidate who applied looked the same, and there was no way women hadn't applied. The candidates were out there, they just weren't being hired.
Now he would need to meet with Cherish to see how to get the manager into training about his biases. They'd also have to oversee his hiring from now on.
Chuck felt like the blame was on his shoulders, and on his dad's. Because problems like this happened from the top down. Sean Mallery's abusive behavior wouldn't be happening if the CEO and COO of Bartowski Electronics Corporation had built a workplace that didn't enable that kind of behavior, that had made it clear to employees they would face serious consequences if they acted that way toward anyone else.
He was struggling with all of this, and determined to make it all right. But when Sarah'd noticed how quiet he was as they sat at his bar eating their gyros and fries, he hadn't talked to her about it. And he knew it was wrong, that he should talk to her about it. He usually didn't shy away from talking to Sarah about his shortcomings, or admitting when he'd fucked up.
But this felt like a big, systemic fuck-up. It felt like he'd been fucking up this whole time he was at his dad's company, and something was actively wrong with his insides that he hadn't recognized it until the other day. That he thought Sean was a friendly old guy, that he chalked it up to him being from a different generation, from a time when being handsy and saying sideways shit to people was just what they did in the old days.
That was utter bullshit though. And he was mortified and ashamed that he'd ever thought that. That he hadn't seen the truth, that one of his employees—if not more than one, and he had a soul deep fear that it was a whole lot more than one—had been dealing with this treatment from Sean for years.
It made him sick with guilt. And he was determined to do the right thing. He just had to figure out what that was.
Besides just firing Sean without preamble or benefits. And that was likely happening after tomorrow's meeting with Cherish and other HR admin. He couldn't decide if he needed to sit down with Sean himself and talk it through with him, see if he had anything to say, hear his side of the story.
The problem was that he believed the woman and had been presented with indisputable evidence, including witnesses. So why give Sean Mallery a platform, why give him a say in this? But was that the right thing? He needed to talk to his dad about it first of course. But he was almost one hundred percent positive that Sean was getting fired.
He'd put his own foot down about it.
He felt a light tapping on his knee and he looked down to see that Sarah had craned her neck a bit to look up at him with those blue eyes of hers. And she was staring. How long had she been staring? He didn't know. "Hi," she mumbled.
"Hey."
Then she tilted her empty martini glass towards the television, which she'd paused during the end credits. Whoops. "That's over. I asked you what you thought of it…" She grit her teeth in embarrassment. "Not as good as I thought it was when I was, like, eight or however old I was when I was obsessed with it. I'll admit that. But the theme is still important. She's a knight and she's a girl."
"No, no. Totally. It's a very important theme. I can see why future Pinkerton detective Sarah Walker latched onto this movie."
"The songs are cheesy, I know. But it was just this idea of there being a knight at the Round Table, King Arthur's table, and she's a woman. It lit a fire under me." She studied his face then and sighed, wrinkling her nose cutely. "I can't tell if you thought it was terrible or if you've got something else on your mind, but it's one of the two."
"Neither of the two," he said quickly, smiling down at her. "Totally the opposite on both counts, actually. The songs weren't great, kind of cringeworthy, but I had fun. And you're right about the theme, it's great. Don't let anybody tell you who you are, you tell them who you are."
"Oooohhh I like that. Good one, tech guy."
He preened at her sincere praise, the way her eyes sparkled and she raised an eyebrow as if impressed. "Thanks."
"But you've, um, got nothing else on your mind? Something you might need to talk about?"
He shook his head. And he knew he was a damn liar, and it killed him that he was lying to Sarah, of all people. But shame made people do stupid things. And she'd be so disappointed in him for all of the things he'd missed at B.E.C., the things he'd allowed to happen. The status quo he'd allowed to fester there. And his dad, too. He needed to have a long talk with his dad about all of this. They were both negligent in their practices as the CEO and COO of Bartowski Electronics Corporation.
"Okay. You're sure?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "And Quest for Camelot was great, for what it was. Thank you for showing it to me. Gave me some insight into little Sarah."
"Thought it might," she said with a snort. "Thanks for scouring the web and paying for us to watch it."
"When you're paying for something, you don't really have to scour."
She giggled. "Fair. Me? I'm poor. So if I wanna watch something, I pirate." Sarah Walker? Pirate? Bandana, sash, knee high boots, smokey eyes, and a cutlass in hand…? His eyes glazed over and he felt her giving him a concerned look. "What? You aren't gonna report me to the LAPD, are you?"
"Oh hell no," he said, shaking himself. "I'd never report a pirate."
"You were picturing me as a pirate, weren't you?"
"So hot, Sarah. You'd be the hottest pirate ever. I'd bet on you against every sailor who ever sailed. The entire Spanish Armada." She laughed, shaking her head and setting her martini glass on the coffee table, doing the same with his, and then she swiveled around so that her chest was pressed against his this time. "I know. I know, I'm weird. I'm a huge weirdo…"
He ran his eyes down and back up again, biting his lip.
"You're still picturing me as a pirate, aren't you?"
"Oh absolutely," he chirped immediately.
Sarah giggled, and then she got a mischievous look on her face and she leaned in close, brushing her lips over his, before she shifted so that her mouth was at his ear. "How about you take me above decks and we can hoist that main sail, Captain…?" she growled in a deep voice, a bad pirate accent honestly, but God, it worked for him.
Also, what a complete dork.
That also worked for him.
She pushed off of the couch to her feet and yanked him up with her, leaving everything behind as she hurriedly led him to the stairs that climbed up to his bedroom.
"Except I think we can both agree you'd be the Captain and I'd be the First Mate, right? I mean, it just makes sense that way. Given our personalities."
Sarah cackled but didn't answer, pulling him into his bedroom and giving him a teasing but wanton shove so that he fell back onto his bed. "We can always switch it up later."
Chuck Bartowski went limp and flopped onto the mattress in his best rendition of a dead faint, putting Sarah Walker in stitches.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
A/N: Dorks.
Look, I know Mary is kind of terrifying and crappy a lot of times in this fic. But I try for some semblance of balance sometimes, a humanization... whether it's enough to make us hate her less, well that's up to the reader. You'll see how things proceed.
Thanks for reading and please review! Don't toss dumb meaningless accusations at me. If it's dumb enough, I'll likely just delete it. :D I'm not posting this to try to have a high review count. I know for a fact this fic won't do that. So I'll delete if you're a big ol' poo and I'll do it without qualms.
-SC