Castle in the Air
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: Sarah has opened her dream bookstore just before the holiday season, but when a corporate monopoly announces their reduced-price brick-and-mortar is going in a block away, she must band together with her fellow small businesses to fight for their lives, even if it means getting past a slew of bad first impressions to work with Chuck, the owner of the comic book shop next door. AU Charah.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews and messages, folks. Enjoy the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or its characters, and any similarities in this fic to any corporate entities are just coincidence... shh.
It wasn't exactly the same sensation from earlier that made her reach out and take Chuck's hand before he could put it on the doorknob, but it was very similar.
They'd just been together for hours, exploring definitely…but also having fun. It had been so much fun. Even in the midst of wild passions, Chuck would bump his head on the headboard or she'd accidentally elbow him, or he'd dig his knee into her thigh, and they'd laugh together, riotous laughter. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't without a little clumsiness, but it was so much damn fun. And frankly, no one had ever made her feel the things he'd made her feel. Physically, absolutely. But also emotionally.
There'd been the interlude in which he told her all about his parents, about the docuseries. Even as she held him tightly, comforting him, which was a position she'd never found herself in with anyone else before, he'd filled her in on what being the subject of that docuseries had been like. The time he'd walked out of school to go to his bus in the sixth grade and someone with a recorder had run after him because they were doing a true crime podcast. The bus driver'd had to step in and protect him, a large formidable woman who'd scared the true crime nerd back into his hole. Never having real friends besides Morgan.
But then they'd fallen back into the mattress together again, and they stayed linked, moving in concert, wrestling and cracking up, kicking the sheets off of the bed altogether in spite of how embarrassingly cold her apartment was. He'd kept her very warm by doing things to her nearly every part of her body. No one had ever cared enough about her pleasure to do the things Chuck Bartowski had done.
Finally, as two in the morning approached, they'd both climbed out of her bed, and he'd been adorable, trying to turn away from her as he got dressed so that she could pull her own clothes on without him eyeing her.
There was so much reluctance in the air again, and she stupidly let him get as far as the door.
Only this time, she wasn't going to let him go through it.
He turned to look at her, a sort of aching in his features.
"It's late," she said. "I don't know how safe it is for you to…be driving out there, even if it isn't far. It's after two in the morning."
"Oh. I'm…I'm okay. I'm not tired." He grinned. "I'm still buzzing."
The way he said that with absolutely no embarrassment, so genuine. His heart was made out of gold and she felt like she was benefitting from that more than anyone these days.
"Okay, fine. Let me just drop all pretenses then," she breathed, shaking her head, rolling her eyes at herself for trying the 'it's late' bullshit in the first place. "I want you to stay, if that's something…you'd be willing to do. I'll even get the heater going if it's too cold in here for you, but I just…um…"
"You want me to stay here? Overnight? Like, as in…sleeping here?"
"Yes." She paused. "Is that…weird? Am I being—?"
"I'll stay," he said, cutting her off. "I want to stay. I just didn't want to…impose or…" He swallowed as she felt her heart racing, her fingers and toes tingling. "I'll go get my overnight bag outta my trunk, though. If that's okay."
Sarah raised her eyebrows, Chuck staying making her feel pretty bold. "Hm. I thought the only reason you showed up at my apartment tonight was to bring me those blank protest signs."
He spun to face her head-on, his eyes widening, his jaw falling open. "Oh. Oh, wait. No, I-I didn't—That wasn't something—I wasn't planning on this happening. The sex. I didn't plan the sex…happening. It's just a fantastic—I mean, the best development ever and this is the best—This has been the best night of my life, but it wasn't planned. I didn't toss that in my trunk because I was angling to get into your bed, I swear—"
She could see him spiraling, so she cut in. "Chuck—"
"But I've got two homes, see? The one in LA proper, and then my beach house in Venice, and then there are the late-night gaming sessions at Morgan's place sometimes when it's, like, four in the morning and I really just wanna crash on his couch and go home the next day. Then there's Ellie and Awesome. I've gone over and had way too much to drink with those two, and then there's no way I wanna be driving after that, so I always keep an extra bag of clothes and toiletries packed in my car so I'm ready for any of those situations, and this didn't even occur to me as a possibility, you know? I-I didn't—"
"Chuck." He finally stopped, now that her hand was on his cheek. The way he responded so viscerally to her touch, his eyelids fluttering, his chest heaving. This was bad. This was very dangerous. He could very easily become like a drug with how heartfelt and sincere and eager he was. She could so easily get hooked on him. As if she wasn't already. Crap. "Go get your bag. I was teasing you."
Sarah tried not to show too much amusement, lest he think it was all at his expense. He was so fucking cute, though.
She actually believed him about the overnight bag. It was logical for a twenty-something year old living in Los Angeles and Venice Beach, with friends and family in town, to keep an overnight bag in the trunk of his car. It was a pretty grown-up thing to do, actually.
Chuck pulled his lips back between his teeth and narrowed his eyes, nodding. "And I gave you exactly the response you were hoping for, didn't I?"
"Mhm, yes, you did," she drawled, smirking hard and moving up onto her tiptoes to kiss his nose.
He beamed at her. "You're a cruel, cruel woman, Bookworm. But you know what? I kind of like it. I'll be right back. Two minutes. Clock it," he rushed out, and he pulled out of her embrace, grinning like an idiot and ducking out of her apartment, shutting the door behind him.
She didn't clock it, but she'd barely finished pouring them both glasses of ice water when she heard him come back in, shutting and locking the door behind him.
"Sarah?"
She poked her head around and smiled. "In the kitchen."
"Ah." Chuck swept into the kitchen, a small duffel gripped by the handles in his left hand. He lifted it and grinned toothily. "Got it."
Sarah thrust one of the glasses of water at him. "I realized all we've had tonight has been whiskey. Not that I'm drunk or anything, but…"
"Water. Important. Yes." He took it and downed half of it in one go. She watched his Adam's apple bob a few times, and then he let out a satisfied sigh and licked his lips. "Thank you."
She was suddenly all too aware of how awkward the air was now. Once again. Why couldn't they just be normal? Ever?
Chuck shuffled his feet a little, drinking more water, as if looking for something to do in the tense quiet that settled between them.
Sarah sipped some of her water and reached out for his glass. He handed it to her and she went back to fill it again, but she left it on the counter on her way back to him.
She brushed aside the weird awkwardness, the awareness that everything was rollercoastering with them tonight, the highs of intense pleasure to the…well, lows of awkward shy moments like this.
And she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. He made this strangled humming sound, almost a whimper, and hugged her back. He withheld absolutely nothing, this guy. She'd never met a straight man who was so transparent, especially about the way she made them feel.
It was intoxicating.
Taking a slow, deep breath, nuzzling his jaw with her nose, she finally pulled her face back just enough to press her forehead to his, noses brushing. She sent him a soft smile, meeting his eyes.
"Put on whatever you've got in that bag of yours that's comfy and let's get into bed. We both need some sleep."
He let out a half groan, half hum, making her giggle. "Sleep sounds so goooood," he drawled in a deep voice, his arms tightening around the small of her back.
}o{
Sarah had kindly let him use her shower, and then he'd buried himself under the covers, because her apartment actually was cold, and as two became three and inched towards four in the morning, it was getting even colder.
He'd toyed with the idea of asking if she'd prefer for him to take the couch. It was stupid, he knew, as much as he didn't want to push himself onto her, invade her space, whatever else… So he kept the offer to himself.
And he was glad he didn't open his mouth, because Sarah had looked up from the book she'd been reading while he showered, her lower half all tucked away under the covers, and then she'd set her book to the side…
Just like that, she slid in under the covers alongside him, and then rolled in against his side, draping her arm over his chest and doing the same with her leg, too.
Chuck beamed up at the ceiling, letting her cuddle in closer to him, and he tucked his arm under her body, pulling her halfway on top of him. "This work for you?" he asked, making her laugh. "I'm just askin', 'cause it definitely works for me if it works for you."
She nodded, burying her face under his jaw. And then he felt her lips press against his skin and he was assailed with even more warmth. "It works just fine. But I'm gonna whine a little bit because you're getting a me-sized blanket sorta and I'm only getting the covers."
He was feeling emboldened by her teasing, the comfort of this moment and of having her in his arms buried in her bed, so he breathed, "Oh, did you want a me-sized blanket instead?" and rolled them both over, making her squeak and crack up as he climbed half on top of her, pinning her to the bed and nuzzling her neck with his nose.
She hugged him with both arms and slung her legs around him, tugging him in closer, still laughing. "This is more of a weighted blanket," she said through the giggles.
Chuck gasped, chuckling. "Excuse me? Weighted? You saying I'm fat?"
"Oh shut up. The guy Casey calls Stringbean when he's feeling affectionate towards you?"
He laughed hard, pushing himself up onto his elbows and shaking his head down at her, loving the way she beamed up at him with so much light in her blue eyes. "You always try to act like you aren't funny. That? That was funny."
"Guess I have my moments." She shrugged, squeezing him tighter. And then she stretched out her arm towards the lamp on the bedside table. "Darn, I can't reach the light to turn it off oh well," she said with a wistful sigh.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Is that a hint that you want me to move and turn it off?"
"Oh, I would do it, it's just that I can't reach."
Chuck laughed, loving how glib and cute she was being. "I can't with you right now," he said, grinning at the innocent questioning look on her face, and then he rolled over her body, keeping his lower half draped over her as a laugh burst from her lips.
"Get your knee off of my hip," she said with a strained laugh, shoving at him.
"You're making me get the lamp so I'm getting the lamp." Straining, stretching himself out towards it, he flicked the switch on the lamp, immersing her bedroom in darkness. And then he slid back down on top of Sarah, swallowing her giggle in a kiss as she grabbed the covers and pulled them up around them both.
He felt her smiling against his lips and he smiled back.
But then she broke the kiss and cupped his face. "Mmm'sleep," she muttered, their lips brushing, noses nuzzling. "Or it'll be dawn by the time we get to sleep and I have a lot to do tomorrow."
Chuck slid his weight off of her, but still pressed himself up against her side. She shifted to face him as well, her arm pinned under his head, and her fingers teasing the hair at the nape of his neck.
He played with the hem of the camisole she wore, his arm draped over her flank. His eyes slipped shut, as deeply comfortable as he was.
"Thank you."
Chuck blinked his eyes back open and furrowed his brow. "…For what?"
"Trusting me with your story, everything that happened with your parents disappearing, and what you and Ellie went through after that." She stroked the back of his neck.
He swallowed thickly. "I'm…sorry I never told you about all of that earlier. I should've—"
"No," she cut him off, scooting in closer to him, their legs pressed together under the covers.
"It would've probably been better if you'd first learned about it—I mean, that I'm the kid from the docuseries you saw plastered all over your TV growing up—you should've heard it from me, and not from your best friend Googling it while she was trying to do a background check on me." He snorted. It was still pretty gratifying and funny both that Carina felt the need to check up on him.
"I would so much rather you tell me something like that when you're ready to."
"I was ready," he said adamantly. "And…" He paused, licking his lips thoughtfully. He wondered if he should even float this out there.
"What?"
"I hope you know that I don't expect you to tell me your story until you're ready. If-If you're ever ready."
He wouldn't deny, at least not to himself, that he wanted to know her story. He wanted to hear it all. And if she needed him to, he wanted to hold her the way she'd held him. Even if she didn't need him to, he wanted to hold her the way she'd held him. He wanted to repay the great comfort she'd given him when the emotions from all those years ago threatened to assail him again.
But Sarah merely smiled, silently shifting higher up in the bed, just enough so that she could kiss his forehead slowly, tenderly. And then she slid back down and cuddled her face against his collarbone. She nodded. "I know."
This time when he closed his eyes, he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep within minutes, gone to the world, save for the comforting pressure of her body pressed into his.
}o{
She probably couldn't afford to do this, but she was doing it anyway.
Sarah stuck a sign explaining that she'd stepped out and would return after her lunch break on the door, shut it behind her, and locked it.
She really just needed lunch.
And she was extremely hungry and tired. She needed a real break. She didn't want to eat at the computer, having to set her food down, rush over to take people's money, bag their books, and watch them go as she picked up her food again to try to scarf it down before someone else needed her help.
It probably wasn't super professional, if she were honest with herself. But also, it couldn't be healthy. At least, not mentally.
The store was open eight hours per day, six days per week, and she was the only employee of Castle in the Air Bookstore.
During dinner with Ellie the other night, Sarah had confessed to being absolutely wrung out, but she just couldn't afford even one other employee at the moment. She was still trying to get to a point where she wasn't losing money. It was certainly getting better, but holy shit she had a ways to go.
She'd joked with Ellie that she should've opened a pot dispensary instead, but after they'd laughed together, the brunette had become serious and she'd told her outright she needed to give herself space from the store during the workday.
It hadn't really dawned on Sarah what Ellie meant by that. Just getting up and walking away from the store in the middle of the day? What…?
But Ellie had clarified. Actually leaving the store, locking up, and putting a sign up telling customers she was taking lunch, wasn't going to be the end of the world. Needing a day off besides just that Sunday—an "emergency R&R day", Ellie had called it—was perfectly acceptable and she could just post it on the door and her social media pages. People would just have to accept her not being there because she couldn't be.
Ellie would be proud of her now as she walked away from her store to take a lunch. And she couldn't help pausing, turning to glance back at Ashcan Comics. She could only see Morgan through the front windows, drumming against the front counter to some drumbeat, probably the music they played in their store. A large part of her wanted to go in there, grab the taller of the two comic book nerds from whatever he was doing, and make him join her.
But on Sunday over protest slogan brainstorming and a huge breakfast they'd tag-teamed cooking—only after waking up and immediately continuing the activities from the night before—they'd agreed they were going to keep this new romantic development between them. Not because they wanted it to be a secret, per se, but because they wanted to go on dates, see each other, spend time together outside of work, for a short time without it being a distraction. They were both afraid it would be the talk of the whole shopping center, and the focus of getting rid of Cadabra would take a backseat to the juicy gossip that the Ashcan Comics owner and the brand new Castle in the Air Bookstore owner were seeing each other.
Were they?
She was pretty certain they were. They hadn't said it in those words. But they spent all Sunday together, and tonight was technically a date. Their first? She guessed so. She thought so. The other night wasn't a date, and Chuck was absolutely right that they weren't exactly doing this in the correct order, were they?
Sarah smirked to herself and decided not to bother him now. Instead, she strolled across the street to the mom and pop Greek food spot, bought herself a gyro, found a bench outside of the joint, and took her time enjoying her food.
It was kind of nice out here, peaceful. The street wasn't busy with cars as it was more of a side street. And pleasant Greek music was playing at the perfect volume from a speaker mounted somewhere next to the Angeliki Friendly Greek sign above the doors.
Music.
She'd sort of avoided talking to her fellow shopkeepers in the Victoria Shopping Center, and not necessarily on purpose. But after Saturday night and the rest of Sunday, the way she and Chuck dove in headfirst on this romance, falling into bed more times than was altogether normal over the thirty-plus hours they spent together, it felt like she'd be walking through a minefield having any sort of a conversation with anyone else who knew Chuck.
Would she let something slip? Would they see something in her face?
Sarah set down the last quarter of her gyro after a leisurely lunch, hearing her phone buzz in her bag. She wiped off her hands and dug in the bag, pulling out her phone. It was a text.
From Chuck.
Her heart flipped onto its head and then swayed back into place, right-side up again. Biting her lip, she read it.
"Making a midday coffee run! Was gonna ask if you wanted something but you've STEPPED OUT and WILL BE BACK SOON? How DARE you leave your POST, Bookworm!"
She giggled and rolled her eyes.
From anyone else, she'd probably be a little annoyed by it, even though it was teasing. But it was Chuck Bartowski, and she could read his little satirical tone.
She'd told him during their all day Sunday hang-out about a customer being extremely entitled with her because she locked the door for a few minutes to step into the back and try to fix the constantly running toilet, only to have to call Chen and ask him if he knew a good plumber because the chain in the toilet had snapped in half in a way it couldn't just be rehooked in there. The customer had been so affronted that she would dare lock the door to customers during store hours. He'd even done the whole "I spend a lot of money here, young lady, and to have to stand out there on the sidewalk and wait? Not great business!"
She knew Chuck was riffing on that asshole with this text.
Sarah typed back a response she hoped would make him laugh: "Sorry! I'm so so so so so sorry, my liege! Here, let me hurry back to the store so that I can help you bend over to kiss your own perfect ass!"
It took less than five seconds for him to respond with about twenty laughing emojis, with the tears and everything.
"Jesus CHRIST I like you so much. Buuuuuuut even tho it isn't my business I guess I'm wondering where you got off to."
She finished the rest of her lunch, wiping her fingers again, typing a response as she continued chewing. "Angeliki's. Really needed a gyro. After getting a talking to from Ellie about potential burnout I decided to eat here and chill instead of scarfing it down at the front desk working my ass off. So I closed for lunch."
"I'm so proud of you," he sent back immediately. She saw he was still typing and she melted in her chair a little, aware of the intensity of just how good it made her feel to read that and know he meant it. "I'm really digging this Taking Care Of Herself version of Sarah Walker. She should stick around."
"Well she can't take the reins all the time because I DO have to make money every so often or I won't be able to pay rent, make car payments, etc. You want anything from Angeliki's while I'm here? I can bring it back for you or any of the comic cubs."
She waited, letting her head tilt back, feeling that breeze go through the sidewalk, past her, making her shiver delightfully. It was so nice being out in the fresh air, her stomach full, not having to shove it down her throat and deal with potential heartburn over it.
Her phone dinged.
"Comic cubs? Cutest shit I've ever heard. Pls use that always. Forever." She giggled, shaking her head. More popped up then. "No ty on the Greek tho. We all ate already. Anna brought food from her cousin's dim sum spot. I know we already have specific plans tonight but if it goes well we can go there sometime."
She wasn't sure if she was being too bold with her teasing, going too far, but she typed, "Counting your chickens before they hatch there nerd…" and she hit send.
He was typing… The typing stopped… And then it started again… Stopped…
It was actually pretty cute watching him struggle to come up with a response. She only hoped he wasn't offended or hurt by her insinuation, teasing or not.
Finally: "I know for a fact that some of those eggs will end up in a delicious Denver omelet with hashbrowns and bacon on the side so I'm not too worried about it."
Sarah cracked up, putting her phone on the table facedown and crossing her arms. "He's fired," she breathed to herself, sliding down in her chair even further. The adorable doofus.
But she picked up her phone, sent back laughing emojis, and stared at his text before the omelet. If it goes well, he'd texted. Sarah had a feeling it would go well. She also knew that she hadn't seen him since yesterday and she missed him already.
She was ridiculous.
This could easily get out of hand.
Sarah texted him back finally. "I can't believe you. That was the most Chuck the Comics Guy thing you've ever done. Go to your Time Out corner for 5 mins. Immediately."
She climbed up from the table, shoved her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, and shouldered her bag, rolling up her gyro wrapper and tossing it in the nearest trashcan, before she began her stroll back to the shopping center.
Sarah peeked at her watch. She'd been gone for a little over thirty minutes. She decided she could stay gone for a little while longer, so she detoured towards the person the Greek music had immediately made her think of as she enjoyed her lunch.
She needed to stop the avoiding thing and just be an adult. If anyone was trustworthy to keep a secret if they saw something in her face about her and Chuck, it was the record shop owner, Martha Mudenda.
Pushing into the record store, she was assailed by music, some song by some musician she'd never heard before. It was good, though. She moved her shoulders a little to the sexy jazzy song, loving the deep, silky sound of the woman's voice as she sang.
Martha hurried out from a back room and grinned. "Oh, it's you. Hi, hon."
"Hi." Martha took her phone out of her back pocket and did something on the screen. The volume of the music went down and Sarah looked up and around, confused. Martha snorted and explained. "Chuck helped me connect my phone to the place so that I can control the volume. He's a genius but not so much a genius that he can get my phone to switch out records when I want that smooth vinyl sound. If I'm on my music streamer, though, it's through my phone and I can switch songs and do all that, right from this." She wiggled the phone.
"He is kind of a tech genius, isn't he?" she asked. Which genuinely solidified what she'd always sort of suspected. While she still had no idea how he'd known she needed a phone recommendation, and that truly did boggle her mind, she was ninety-nine percent sure Chuck Bartowski had slipped that information under her door.
"Oh, big time. I think owning a comic book shop underutilizes that genius at extreme levels, but that shop is his dream, his passion, and I'm not gonna shit on anybody's dream, no how." She shook her head.
"Neither am I." She smiled. "And hey, you don't have to turn that down so low, it's okay. I like it a lot. What is it? Or, um, who-who is it?"
"You've never heard Nancy Wilson before?" she asked.
Sarah pressed her lips together. "She's kind of, like, an old-timey singer, huh?"
"One of the best. Totally underrated. If you like Sarah Vaughan, Dinah Washington, you…" Martha paused then, eyeing Sarah closely. "You hear of them?"
"Oh, sure. Yeah. F'course. Yes. They're…great." She winced, then. She wasn't going to do this. It was so immature and silly. So she sighed and shrugged with her shoulders and arms, throwing up her hands. "Okay, I don't know them. Any of them. I know there's someone named Billie Holiday? That's all I got."
"You don't listen to much music, do you?" Martha asked, leaning her hip against a table with vinyls set up in a cascading fixture.
"No. I don't. That's the truth. I never have. So I know absolutely nothing," she finally admitted. "You can arrest me now, officer." She held her arms out towards Martha, pressing her wrists together and wiggling her fingers, making the older woman laugh.
"Girl, please. Tuck those arms back in. What d'you think, I'm gonna disown you?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. It's just a little embarrassing. Like, yeah, I know nothing about comic books, but…it's comic books. Whatever. But music is, like…music, you know? It's everywhere, all the time, and there's so much of it. Not knowing anything feels really…lame. And it wasn't a calculated decision, it just wasn't ever a big part of my…existence."
Martha nodded, her smile widening. There was a long pause then, both women frozen, and Sarah wasn't sure what came next. She waited with bated breath.
The record store owner pounced then, taking Sarah's arm. "You do realize how exciting this is for me, right? You're like a blank canvas I get to introduce all sorts of amazing paints and colors to. This is a dream for me, oh my God, girl."
Sarah cracked up, relieved. "Thank you for being so kind about it."
"Kind? Like I said, I cannot wait to introduce you to things. This? This is Nancy Wilson. She's a genius storyteller. That's why I think you'd like her. Since you're my stories girl." Warmth spilled through the younger woman as Martha led her over towards the front where she had her cash register. An array of stereo equipment, a record player, and a laptop with wires poking out of it, were all set up behind the desk on the counter behind her. She went up to the record player, the vinyl spinning in it, and she made it stop, then she lifted up the handle thingy and hummed thoughtfully, before setting it down again gently on the record. "You have to hear this. She's got this incredible way with timing. A master of suspense. Just listen to the pauses, the way she comes in, the notes, the softness versus the hardness. She delivers not just the story but really…truly…storytelling," Martha emphasized, doing a chef's kiss.
Martha pressed play then and Sarah boggled.
"You just…know where to put that thing to start on the song you want?"
"There are lines, you can see where a song starts and stops on the record."
The blonde shook her head in awe. "You learn something new every day, huh?"
Martha snorted and they stood there and listened.
She was right. Nancy's voice was deep like caramel, and then she'd almost whisper something, and swing in with a steady, long note that got in your bones. She would pause dramatically, creating suspense, and then in she would swing yet again.
At the end of the song, Martha turned it down again and turned to look at Sarah. "What did you think?"
"Everything you said is absolutely right and I love her."
Martha spread her arms as if she was a genius and knew she was. "It's what I do. Here." She came around the desk again, taking Sarah over to the stacks of vinyl. It took her less than ten seconds to emerge from the display with a Nancy Wilson record. "On the house."
Sarah immediately realized this would be the second time she had to turn someone down because they were gifting her a record. "Oh. This is very kind, Martha. But I don't…um…"
The other woman thunked herself in the forehead. "Oh my God. I'm being the presumptuous snob record store owner I always accuse others of being. Of course you don't have a record player. Why would someone who doesn't listen to music have a record player?" She scoffed at herself. "I'm sorry for assuming. You have a way to listen to CDs?"
"That, I can just stick in my laptop, right?"
"Yep."
"I can do that."
"Good." Martha grinned, putting the record back and hurrying around to the CDs instead, thumbing through them and coming back with a Nancy Wilson CD. Sarah looked down at the Black woman with her hair in a 'sixties style with a beautiful shimmering gown, posing on the front of the CD case. "Gorgeous, wasn't she?"
"Seriously." She lifted the CD and grinned at Martha. "This is sweet, Martha. Thank you. I'll listen when I get home."
"This is just the beginning, young padawan. We'll work you up to vinyls." She winked.
"Padawan? You sound just like Chuck and Morgan," she laughed.
"Excuse me, Star Wars is mainstream now. My kid watches all of 'em constantly and there's no avoiding it at our house. Try as I might."
Sarah narrowed her eyes at the woman she thought might be the coolest human being she'd ever met in her life, then drawled, "You like it, though, huh…"
Martha narrowed her eyes back, crossing her arms. And then she dropped the act and laughed. "I love that nerdy shit."
Sarah laughed with her. "Hence why Chuck and Morgan basically worship the ground you walk on."
The other woman let out a scoff, dismissing that with a hand wave. "Those boys need guidance. That's all." She walked back to the desk and Sarah followed. "By the way, Casey called me over to the front office and showed me the signs. They're pitch perfect."
"Well, you'd know." Martha gave her a confused look. Sarah paused, meeting her gaze. "Pitch? Music?"
Martha cracked up, leaning forward and bracing her hands on her knees. "Terrible, honey. Just terrible. Giving our boy Chuck a run for 'is money with the bad puns."
"Oh God, don't even say that," Sarah groused, chuckling. "Casey seemed to like the slogans all right. I think he might even be warming up to the protest itself." She made a face. "…A little."
The record shop owner snorted, heading towards the back where a forty-something year old couple were thumbing through pop vinyls. "You two findin' everything okay?" she asked them.
"Yeah, thanks," the man said.
But his wife spoke up: "You have any Love Unlimited Orchestra?"
Martha clapped her hands together and gave off a snicker. "Okay, we're diggin' deep today. I like it. Think I've got a reissue vinyl of 'Rhapsody in White'…" She only took a moment, gliding into the next aisle over, humming in thought, concentrating as she swept down the aisle. "Ah." She grabbed it, passing it over the fixture to the woman. "There it is."
"Oh. My God. This is the best record store ever. Thank you! We're just gonna keep looking but this is mine now…" She almost hugged the record.
"Browse your heart out, honey. Let me know if you need me to find anything else." With a wink, she walked away from them and back to Sarah, muttering, "I love my job."
Impressed, Sarah shook her head and giggled. "Damn. I strive to be this good in my bookstore."
Martha smirked and hummed, leading Sarah back to the front. "I don't know that Casey's warming up to the protest as much as he respects the shit outta you."
"He respects the shit out of all of us," Sarah shot back with a shrug. "I don't let him get away with his bullshit, just like you don't, which is why he probably respects us more than anyone." Sarah rolled her eyes then. "A person he seems to dislike is Chuck, which is—"
"Oh. Oh no, girl. You think he doesn't like Chuck?"
The bookstore owner gave her friend a disbelieving look. "Are you serious? He tears him down constantly. Loudly. In front of people."
She tried not to sound too angry about it, but it did piss her off. Chuck's comic book shop was probably one of the bigger draws to the shopping center. That and Javier's soaps; people really seemed to love that guy's soaps. It just made no sense that Casey singled Chuck out the way he did, like there was a bug up his ass about Chuck in particular.
"Right, and that's how I know he likes Chuck better than any of us."
Sarah blinked. "…What?"
"Mister Big Britches John Casey, rolling in every day in his Trickle Down Economy Reagan-ass beloved Crown Vic, all about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps," the record shop owner mocked in a deep growling voice, even flexing her arm muscles down by her torso and mimicking a Casey walk, which filled Sarah Walker with a burst of pure light. She cracked up, leaning forward against the front counter. "Individualism, isolationism," Martha continued, counting it off on her fingers. "I got mine and that's all I care about," she said with another growling mocking voice. "I mean, Casey's very much live and let live, which is why I get along with him even though I ain't vibin' with any of that shit. He lets me be who I am. He lets us all be who we are. So long as we pay the rent on time."
"Yeah, I definitely get all those vibes from him."
"Mm." Martha nodded. "Then this strapping boy swings in with his big ol' heart and his inherited wealth, wanting to open a comic book shop of all things, very much of the mindset that when you climb you pull others up along with you, very much not an isolationist, in fact thrives with people, is big on community, basically a big freakin' blast of sunshine wherever he goes." Sarah leaned her elbows on the counter and propped her chin in her hands, beaming at the way Martha described the man. "And the biggest nerd you'll ever meet, probably bigger than Morgan even, though they give each other competition all the time." Sarah snorted. "Did you know he brings boxes of comics to shelters for women running away from domestic violence? For their kids. He also takes them to centers for troubled youth. And he gives comics to programs that help teens in juvie, too."
"I didn't know about that," she said quietly. She slid a mask over her face, lest Martha see more in it than she needed her to see. Namely, her heart was literally swelling in her chest. "I get your point, though. They're opposites."
"They're opposites. And in Casey's mind, he has no God damn business actually liking somebody like Chuck Bartowski. He called him a sap once when we were having lunch together, spotted Chuck bringing a donation box out to his car. He literally said somethin' like, 'Why's he even doin' any of that? What's the point? Those kids came out of the womb bad, now they're out sellin' drugs, that's all their lives are gonna be. No point in tryin' to change any of that. And now he wants to give them superhero shit? Please. What a sap.'"
Sarah raised her eyebrows. "You set him straight, though, right?"
Martha scoffed. "Girl, of course I did. But you know Casey, in one ear out the other. And yet, he kept watching him with those boxes. He respects the hell outta that kid. And he likes him a lot. And he's mad at himself for falling for Chuck's charms. So he lashes out at him to compensate."
The younger woman of the two shook her head with a light chuckle. "I don't know about this theory of yours, Martha. He's mad that he likes him so he treats him like crap? What are we, in Kindergarten?"
"We're not," the record shop owner said, gesturing between them. "But he sure is. And it's no theory. Them's the facts."
"I'm gonna think about this every time I see Casey now," she giggled. "And probably Chuck, too." She played with her earlobe a little, staring down at Martha's register, zoning out. "It's just a constant stream of meanness towards the guy and it's annoying."
"Mmmm. I've noticed how much you notice."
Sarah frowned, lifting her gaze to Martha. The woman had one eyebrow raised, and she was playing with one of her braids a bit jauntily. "What d'you mean?"
"You seem to be pretty bothered by ol' Grumpy Gus landlord treating our boy Chuck mean."
"Well, yeah, it's dumb. And Chuck's…my friend."
Martha hissed. "Ooooo, girl, that pause did not help you at all."
The blonde laughed breathily. "Excuse me? There was no pause."
"Out with it. What's up with you and Curls McGee, anyway, Sarah?" Martha braced both palms on the counter.
But Sarah felt a presence coming up behind her and she spun to see the couple coming up to make their purchases. Ooof, her saviors.
"We'll catch up later, Martha, okay?" She gave a little wave, but her hand was clutched in a tight grip and the older woman used that grip to march her around to the other side of the counter alongside her.
"You thought you were doin' somethin', didn't you?" Martha asked in a low voice. And then she slung an almost threatening arm over Sarah's shoulders and kept her right there at her side as she smiled at her customers. "This is my friend, Sarah. She runs Castle in the Air Bookstore right across the quad, over thattaway," she told them, pointing over her shoulder towards Sarah's store. "You two should check it out sometime."
"We will, thanks!" the woman said, handing over her stack of vinyls.
Sarah watched the interchange with wide eyes and a polite smile on her face, knowing she had no escape. Martha was too smart, too wily, too observant… And frankly, Sarah knew she'd be the first to figure it all out anyway, didn't she? That writing had always been on the proverbial wall.
So that by the time the bell jingled and the couple left, leaving Martha and Sarah alone in the record store, the former spun to face the latter and crossed her arms. "Trying to escape. Pfft."
"I had to try," Sarah muttered with a one-shoulder shrug, making the other woman giggle. "Look, if I tell you something, will you promise not to say anything to anyone? I mean anyone." Especially Chuck.
Martha ducked her chin and looked at her through her eyelashes for a moment, and then she straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and held up her right hand. "I'll keep this shit from my husband even." Sarah widened her eyes and Martha snorted in response. "Oh, I keep things from him all the time. Shit's easy."
A laugh burst out of Sarah, straight from her gut.
"He likes me enigmatic and that works for me, too." Martha smirked. "But go on. Say it. What is it?"
Sarah had no choice but to trust her.
"I'm going out on a date tonight…"
She wasn't sure if she was imagining the twinge of disappointment in the momentary surprise. But then the other woman made a humming noise and squeezed her shoulders. "Go 'head, girl. Who is it? Is it that contractor?" Sarah gave her a surprised look this time. "What? That man hung around your shop a lot while you were moving in and I noticed he had eyes for you, anyone could've seen that, and he was extremely fine. Some of those Nordic boys can get it." She whistled low.
Sarah just shook her head at the other woman, earning a shrug and a, "What?"
Sighing, she glanced off to the side and bit her lip. "I am not going out with that guy. I think you might know the guy I am going out with, actually." She paused dramatically, because she might as well have a little fun with it if she had to do this. "He owns and runs the comic book shop in the cent—"
"GIIIRLLL!" Martha took a step back and did a few hops, bringing her hand to her mouth and letting out a, "DAMN!" She came back, grabbing Sarah's arms. "I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. You set me up. You set me up to think it was somebody else and I was gonna be disappointed in you."
"In me?!" Sarah couldn't help feeling glee in her chest.
"Yes! In you! Going out on a date with some contractor instead of my boy Chuckster when you two are clearly V-I-B-I-N-G." She emphasized that with a hum and shook her head. "I'm so proud of him. You go, Chuck."
"Wait, hold on. What's that supposed to mean?" Sarah asked with a giggle, giving Martha an affronted look.
"Listen, I know Chuck's a catch. And apparentlyyyyy, you're smart enough to have figured that out for yourself…" She reached over and poked Sarah gently on the nose with her pointer finger, making Sarah giggle again. "But we both know Chuck has a really hard time seeing himself as a catch. Especially after that sandwich girl broke up with him, his confidence was in the shitter."
"Oh." Sarah winced. "Yeah."
"So tonight, huh?" Martha looked so excited she might burst right out of her skin. She crossed her arms at her chest, almost as if she was trying to hold it all in by doing that.
"Yes. Tonight."
Martha made fists and did a dorky little dance with an, "ooooooo!", but of course it was Martha Mudenda, so dorky looked exceptionally cool from her.
"Okay, calm down," Sarah chuckled. "It's just a date." She definitely wasn't telling her any of what led to said date. That was for her and Chuck to know and nobody else to freaking find out.
"You calm down. Don't tell me to calm down." Martha put her hands on her hips. "This is the best thing that's happened to me ever."
That made Sarah give her a look. "Ever?"
"Mhm."
"Let me remind you that you've got a thriving record shop, oh and also a husband, and no big deal, but a freaking son."
Martha scrunched up her face. "Okay fine. Point taken." And then she hit Sarah with the sort of smile that makes your insides turn to goo. "I'm just glad. I'm gonna be buzzing about this."
"Don't buzz too hard, especially not around Chuck, okay?" Martha gave her a questioning look and Sarah huffed. "Chuck and I agreed that we want to just go out on a date and not have people…hovering over us and this date, fluttering around us like…"
"Nosey butterflies?"
Sarah laughed. "Yeah, I guess."
"I get that. Mum's the word, hon. I won't say a thing. And Chuck won't know that I know."
"Thank you."
"Mhm. Took you two long enough."
The record shop owner was already walking away from her as she shot that over her shoulder. Sarah cracked up and wrinkled a flyer, throwing it at the other woman's back as she went.
A/N: Hopefully I get the next chapter out sooner. Thanks for reading. Review if you can.
-SC