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: Hey, thanks for the reviews and DMs. I appreciate it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or its characters, and any similarities in this fic to any corporate entities are just coincidence... shh.
He'd been thinking about it for a while now.
Even before he'd pinned her to her bookshelf in the back of her store, before they spent a day making protest signs, jumping in and out of bed together, before they decided to do this dating thing, he'd thought about it.
Christmas was close at hand.
A mere handful of days away.
And now he had the extra weight of knowing the woman he was so deeply crazy about was practically being stalked by Cadabra's director of acquisitions and development. The same guy they were about to run circles around thanks to Vivian's machinations and the lawyers helping her bend the law to her will.
Christmas was on Monday, the meeting with the Del Rey board of supervisors to determine if rezoning in that area was permissible, and whether they agreed with the reasoning for the rezoning…that was on Wednesday. He would not be attending that meeting, at the suggestion of Vivian.
It was like he couldn't do freaking anything, in any of the realms he existed—nothing to help the Victoria Shopping Center, nothing to help Volkoff Industries. He was trapped in this limbo of not being allowed to be seen as being involved with any of this. Not with the protest, not with the takeover of the warehouse.
At least until the board approved of the rezoning, and Vivian tore up the Cadabra contract and told them to pick up their contractors and the rest of their shit, and take a hike.
Then he could finally dive into this plan for a community center.
But first thing was first…
Christmas.
Chuck needed to make an effort to get Daniel Shaw out of his head and focus instead on the happy tidings of the holiday, because if he didn't, he'd do something that would have serious repercussions. Going after Shaw would ruin everything for so many people.
He couldn't do that.
Even if he really, really wanted to see the guy's face after he broke his God damn jaw. The piece of shit. Stalking Sarah. Researching her jobs she had before, even when she was a teenager…? It made his skin freaking crawl. The slimy shitfuck.
If he saw him near her store again, he'd threaten him to within an inch of his life, both physically and with the other tools he had at his disposal. Including his arsenal of wealth and really good lawyers. Alexei Volkoff wasn't a crook by any means, but he'd made connections, and Chuck had been very meticulous about not burning those bridges. He had folks in his corner who could pull strings.
And while he'd never make someone disappear—that was some mobster shit—he could make Shaw want to disappear himself, and maybe he'd move to, like, the North Pole. The other side of the world somewhere. Manila? He'd heard nice things about Singapore.
But he was getting carried away thinking about the asshole and he'd just told himself not to do that, because Christmas.
"Know what's weird?"
Chuck blinked at the sound of her voice interrupting the whoosh of the Pacific Ocean climbing higher up the beach, closer to his house. He moved his hand against her hip and turned his face into her hair. "M'what?"
He'd given Sarah a tour of his beach house, she'd come into contact with even more of his nerd kingdom, his nerd-dom, and she'd teased him good-naturedly about some of it, pointedly asking if she was "allowed to touch it"or if he'd "freak out" (okay, I'm going to pick this toy up to look at it more closely but I'm gonna be very careful so…don't freak out), and he'd felt so at peace with her being in his deeply nerdy realm. The place where he was so…himself. She hadn't off-set that feeling; instead she'd somehow even made it stronger by being here with him.
And now they were on his rooftop deck, splayed across a chaise lounge, looking up at the stars and out at the water through the glass panel that acted as a railing. She was locked between his legs, leaning back into his chest, her head resting on his right shoulder. And she fit perfectly against him, perfectly in his arms. And they always said nothing and nobody was perfect. This was perfect, though.
So they were wrong.
"I don't even have to see you to know you're thinking hard about something. I've never met anybody who projects that the way you do. Like, I can feel it against my back right now. How hard you're thinking about…whatever it is you're thinking about."
"Well…" He sighed. "I'm nothing if not extremely transparent."
She giggled, her back bouncing against his chest. And then she reached over to the wooden side table he'd painted a blueish grey himself when he first bought this house last year and needed to furnish it and she picked up the same mug she'd been using for the last two hours since she arrived. After the coffee and rum was consumed, they'd opted to sip rum by itself and had been now for some time. Slowly. Neither were attempting to recreate the Ellie and Sarah Show from the other night.
"You know it isn't a bad thing, though, right?" she asked, setting the mug back down after sipping it and laying her hand over his on her lower stomach, her fingers stroking his knuckles.
"I know, I know. It's refreshing. I've heard that before."
"Wow," she drawled. "So cynical. What's so bad about that?"
"Last time a girl said that to me, a week later after a kind of nice make-out sesh on the beach, she dumped me for some dude who was harder to figure out, enigmatic…sexy." He growled the last part, rolling his eyes and pushing his chin against her temple so that he could kiss her hair.
"Oh God. Did she say the guy was those things or are you just assuming?"
"A little of both. I added the sexy and enigmatic part. But I was too much for her. Too…um…emotionally available. I guess that isn't her type." He shrugged. "So yeah, I got dumped."
"She made out with you first?" Sarah asked. "What a shitty thing to do."
"Mhm."
Sarah shifted against him then and he loosened his grip to make room for her to turn over. She pushed her chest into his, melting back against him, and she bumped his chin with her nose, giving him a glimmering, flirtatious look, her mouth stretched into a grin. "Need me to erase that memory of the, um, how'd you say it? Kind of nice make-out sesh? I think I've got something better than that in my pocket…"
Chuck snorted, pleased past all recognition. "Please, Sarah. You've already systematically erased every romantic experience I've ever had with anyone else from my memory."
Sarah narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. "Chuck. My guy. That was a blatant invitation and you just brushed it aside. Granted, with a very sweet compliment, but…um…"
Oh. Shit. He had, hadn't he? "I-I mean…oh no, please…please do everything you possibly can to push those memories out of my existence," he drawled, giving her a begging look. "I'm miserable. Please help me, Sarah Walker, bookworm extraordinaire. I mean, this is so bad, the only way it could possibly work is if you're extremely thorough."
She threw her head back with a laugh, and then she beamed at me with those sparkling blue eyes of hers and pushed one hand into his hair, the other slipping around to the back of his neck, her fingers soothingly cool against his skin.
He fixed the thick blanket they'd brought up with them up over her shoulders as she dove in to press her lips to his chin, slowly moving her lips down his jaw with long, delicious kisses.
Chuck let his hands fall limply over the sides of the chaise lounge, muttering, "Do your worst."
She giggled in his ear. "Oh, that's the intention."
And when her lips finally melded with his, he couldn't hold back the aching groan from deep in his chest. Their flirting banter aside, this kiss alone, her fingers playing with his hair at the back of his neck, her other hand combing through his dark curls, was more than enough to push everything out of his mind, especially the romances he'd had in the past.
Sarah giggled into the kiss and he didn't even care if she was laughing at him for being so…transparent again. Let her know what she did to him, how badly he wanted her, how good she made him feel.
Let her God damn know.
He broke the kiss to taste her neck, loving the soft whimper she emitted into his temple, her mouth hot against his ear. And then she grabbed him and pulled him back in for a searing kiss.
Flames licked at his toes under the thick socks he was wearing inside of the slippers he'd had on all night. And Sarah shifted against him so that her weight was pressed into his lap. It was a very purposeful thing she'd just done there. And he felt it acutely.
When they broke for air finally, she kept their faces close, their lips still brushing as she mumbled, "What were you thinking about?"
He didn't care about that. He didn't care about anything as he angled his chin to capture her lips again, putting his all into this so that she elicited an exciting combination of a whimper and a hum.
Their lips parted again, just enough for them to suck in a few deep breaths, and she continued breathlessly, "And if you say that awful name of that awful dude, I'll be pissed." She smashed her mouth against his, their noses pressed together, her hands now cupping both sides of his head and pulling him closer.
Chuck let himself just enjoy this, and then she moved her hips and rubbed against him in a certain way and his whole body woke up like he'd been struck by lightning. He whimpered, tilting his face away so that she could dot kisses along his cheek and jawline. "Mmm mm." He shook his head a little. "Christmas."
She paused for just a moment, her body freezing over his. And then she moved her hips again and his features crumbled in pleasure, his grip tightening on her. "Christmas?" she repeated, turning her face to kiss his lips again. She gave him a hot kiss, but it was quick, their lips coming apart with a smack. "What about Christmas?" she whispered.
Between deliciously hungry kisses, he muttered, "I… don't want…to spend it…" They engaged in one more hot, long kiss that curled his toes in his slippers, and when he pulled back, his voice shook: "Without you."
Sarah pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, their noses brushing. "…you don't?" she asked in a pant.
"No, I don't. I've been thinkin' about it. A lot."
She searched his gaze…for what, he wasn't sure. And then she pressed a few hard but quick kisses to his lips, and pulled back to search some more. "What's that mean?"
"I-I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head a little. He wrapped his arms more securely around her, ensuring her chest was pressed tightly to his, her lower half angled perfectly into his lap, sending sparks through him. "Wherever you are, I wanna be there, though. I don't know what your Christmas looks like, if you're with your…mom, or…?"
Sarah kissed him some more, but it wasn't as wanton, and instead it felt like she was thinking while she did it. He let her do it, because it felt incredible. And she moved back again, giving him a small head shake of her own. "Not my mom. She goes to Palm Springs with her work girlfriends usually. I, um, haven't done Christmas with…family…since I was a teenager and was forced to." She bit her lip, nuzzling his nose. "My Christmas…looks like nothing. Any other day, I mean."
Chuck could only watch her closely, the way she looked off to the side, one eyebrow arched, pulling her lips back between her teeth. "Oh," he breathed.
"Don't…do the pity thing, please. It isn't like that. I'm fine." She swung a defiant look back to him.
He shook his head. "No, no. No pity. This isn't pity. All it means is you're, um, you're free," he panted. Because she was still sitting directly on him and he could feel how excited he was getting down there, which meant she definitely felt it, too. There was no doubt. And still, she stayed there. "A-And if you're free, maybe you'd want to come…here? Ellie…" She squirmed in his lap and it was blatant, there was no way it wasn't blatant. "Ellie 'n Awesome'll be here," he whimpered. She moved again and he had to clench his jaw, letting out a slow breath through pursed lips. "Morgan might come for a little bit, but he's got extended family fr-from Mexico visiting and…" He glanced down at what she was doing to his lower half with her own lower half and he just barely resisted his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"Okay."
Chuck stopped, his hands on her hips, holding her still. "W-Wait. Stop distracting me." She looked amused at that, the vixen. "You mean…you will?"
"Yeah. It isn't something I'm used to but… opening that whole-ass bookstore wasn't anything I'm used to either, and having sex against a bookshelf and in the backseat of a car, eating at a three-star Michelin restaurant…" She leaned in and gave him another hot kiss, this one slow, and she ignored his steadying hands on her hips to push herself down into him again, this time grinding herself on him in a way that left nothing to the imagination. He whimpered loudly, digging his fingers into her thighs over the cotton of her long flowy skirt she still wore. She broke the kiss but muttered against his lips, "…having sex on the rooftop deck of a beach house owned by a very rich man…"
Oh shit.
He had to laugh, a breathless laugh that came out in embarrassing puffs as he gave her a wide-eyed look. "Uh, not…something I'm used to either. That last one in particular…" He gulped. "We're, like…outside though."
"Nobody can see us up here." She flicked her gaze at the covered barbecue area that provided something of a wall between them and the other rooftop decks on the houses that existed on the street behind his. The neighbors on either side of him didn't have rooftop decks, and instead had slanted tiled roofs.
"You're…"
"I'm what?" she challenged. She was already hiking up her skirt under the blanket. No matter what he said, this was happening, and he knew it.
So he decided to make sure they were both on the same page before it happened. "You're coming to spend Christmas with me, with my family?"
She fixed him with a shy smile and he loved her when she nodded and said, "Yeah, I guess I am."
Chuck beamed, his whole heart in it, and then he eagerly grabbed onto the skirt to help her, shifting his own PJs and boxers out of the way, holding onto her for dear life as they joined and began to move together, nothing else that happened that day seeming to matter to either of them.
}o{
That damn grin was on his face.
She sent him a dubious look over the roof of her car, slamming the trunk shut and coming around to where he hung out of the doorway that led back inside. With his hands on each side of the doorframe, he looked all confident and comfortable. At home. She enjoyed him like this.
She'd seen him in his element before, but he was really himself here. And she knew how special it was that he was sharing all of this with her. She was also well aware of how intense it was that they'd still not even had a second date and she was seeing his…what had he called it? Nerd kingdom? His Nerd-dom? Something girls who'd been his actual girlfriends hadn't been invited into.
Granted, she didn't know how many girlfriends he'd had since getting this place.
In a fair world, a guy this genuinely good, this genuinely sweet and funny and unquestionably handsome—with his hair and his eyes and that height of his—had women flocking towards him. And while it didn't matter to her, she imagined his wealth was quite a draw for a lot of women.
"What's that wily grin about?" she asked him, shouldering her overnight bag and strolling closer to him.
"Wily?" He chuckled, grinning harder. "I like that overnight bag of yours, that's all. It's cute."
She snorted. "Yeah, well… Maybe you influenced me a little. It's a good idea." She wrinkled her nose and dropped the humor for a moment. "I left my apartment earlier not…really wanting to go back there tonight. To be honest."
"I completely understand that," he said, his own grin dimming as he clenched his jaw and frowned. "C'mere." With one strong arm, he tenderly pulled her in against his chest, and then wrapped the other around her, cradling her tightly. She hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder and taking a deep breath. It just felt so good. "You don't have to go home 'til you're ready. I got you."
Sarah tilted her head with a pout, letting him see it as she pulled back. "You're making me feel really good about coming here."
"I am? You mean the fantastic nighttime beach view from the deck didn't already do it? Or the coffee plus rum combo?"
She giggled and let him lead her up the staircase, shutting and locking the door behind them, and they emerged into his first floor living area again. She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed, tailing him. "Those things really have been fantastic, I won't lie. But I came here seeking you out and you have been a freaking godsend tonight."
Chuck turned to face her, backing her through the living space to the set of stairs in the far corner. He gave her one of his warm, closed-mouth smiles. "Well, that makes me feel good. Thank you for saying it."
"Thank me?" She scoffed. "You're consistently swinging in to save the day for me and once, just once, I'd like this to be a two-sided thing where I swoop in to save you. I'm starting to feel like a damsel in distress over here."
"Hey. Stop that." He turned back to the stairs, thankfully, because she really wasn't sure if he knew how close he was getting to them as he continued walking backwards towards them. Now they were walking up to the second floor. "You aren't a damsel in distress. I have no doubt if that guy tried to…I don't know…follow you into some dark alley, you'd beat the ever-loving shit out of him. But you shouldn't feel bad if, in spite of that, you still feel nerves, or even fear. Somebody plants a friggin' listening device in your place of business, that's deeply unsettling. I'm unsettled. I'm scared out of my mind," he said, hitting the last step and hopping up it sort of like an adorable kid or something. "I'm resisting sticking you in a freaking safety bubble. That's tinted. A tinted safety bubble so that he can't lay his creepy creepster eyes on you ever again."
Sarah sniffed in amusement and shook her head, taking in the second floor. It was an array of bedrooms, doors leading into each, and at the end was where he likely slept, the master bedroom. It had a massive bed, an incredible view of the beach out of the sliding glass doors, the balcony she'd seen from below earlier on in the night, a master bathroom, and she could see the corner of what seemed like a massive tub sticking out from behind the doorway and a separate shower in the furthest corner with blue tile lining the walls and floor. The tour a few hours ago hadn't included this room for some reason.
"This is your bedroom…" she breathed. "God, Chuck. This place is so nice. Like, so nice."
"Thanks. I, um, I like it. It's home. Ya know?"
"Quite the home." He blushed a bit, shuffling his weight between his feet shyly. "Sorry," she rushed out, wincing, putting her hand on his chest even as she let her bag slip from her shoulder onto the end of his bed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so obnoxious. This really is the nicest freaking place I've ever been in and I'm not used to stuff being this…"
"Expensive."
"I guess."
He nodded. "No, I understand. I get it. Before my parents disappeared, before Alexei…reappeared in our lives…we were fine. I mean, my parents made…a living but it wasn't—We weren't rich, I mean. I'd never been anyplace like this before, either. No three-star Michelin restaurants for us. My mom didn't cook. I remember my dad would come home three nights a week with Chef Min's sichuan fried chicken bucket with French fries and this…dipping sauce that I still think about sometimes." He gave her a sad, lopsided smile, playing with her fingers a little. "So I get you looking at all this stuff and being like 'aaah too much'."
Sarah shook her head. "It isn't too much. I'm just not used to it. But trust me, bucko, I intend on playing my cards right, and I will absolutely get used to this stuff. It'll take me no time at all."
At least that made him laugh. "Well, I do, um, I do want you to feel at home here. When you're here. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
She raised an eyebrow, completely heart-warmed but also feeling the depth of all of this settling somewhere in her chest. She tried not to be nervous about it. He had yet to throw any of this back in her face, and she didn't think he ever would. "So what you're saying is, you're cool if I change into my PJs and splay myself out on this bed?" She began to unbutton the comfortable, baggy shirt she was wearing.
"You don't even have to put the PJs on," he said with a shrug, shoving his hands in his own PJ pants' pockets. She pursed her lips and tilted her head at him and he must've realized how that sounded because his face crumbled in embarrassment. "I don't mean, like…take the clothes off and then leave off the PJs, too. I don't mean naked. But if that's what you prefer, that's cool. I have nothing against you being naked." His features twisted in agony. "Dear God. I was trying to say you're allowed on my bed in that, too. I mean, your clothes. Or not your clothes. Your PJs I mean. That's fine. Anything you want to wear…or not wear…my bed is your bed. I'm…God damn Jesus shit," he finished in an adorable breath, clearly fed up with himself.
She finished unbuttoning her shirt and she slowly shrugged out of it, and he made a soft, "Ah—" before turning to face in the other direction.
How was he real?
"Chuck, you've seen me naked."
"Well, still. That-That isn't what this is about. Our conversation. This night. This night isn't about…your nakedness and me being super into your nakedness. So I'm gonna face in this direction if it's all the same to you…"
And still, neither of them had protested much about what happened up on his roof in that comfortable lounge chair.
Sarah smiled at the back of his head as she tugged the zipper of her bag open and grabbed what she'd be sleeping in, stripping down to her underwear and sliding the plaid shorts up her legs, pulling the comfortable, cotton T-shirt her mom got her for her twenty-third birthday from some boutique at her casino down over her breasts, stuffing her bra back into the bag. "Know what else I'm not used to?" she asked quietly.
"Hm…?"
"Being respected this hard by a guy. Without some ulterior motive, without stipulations, or rules…without exceptions. You can turn around."
He did, blinking at her, taking her in, in spite of everything. He shrugged and said easier than anything: "It's not hard to respect you, Sarah. You're…super respectable."
Chuck was clearly in a shy place at the moment, and she knew she'd done it by being a freaking low-class punk about how fancy and nice his beach house was. And his mouth was just spouting things now. But somehow in the last few months, Chuck had essentially slotted himself into her life as the safest place in the world. And she wanted to be that for him, too. So badly.
Which meant she wanted him to feel undeniably safe being himself with her, along with the run-on sentences and strangely worded sweet nothings and everything else he created with his mouth around her sometimes. A lot of the time.
So she cupped his face and smiled at him. "Please never stop saying shit like that to me, Chuck. I'm so serious, you're scary good at making me swoon. And I do not swoon."
"Really? Not even while reading those Austen books? Mister Darcy doesn't make you swoon?"
She gasped gleefully. "Chuck Bartowski, you're like my very own Fitzwilliam Darcy, riches and all!"
"Well, I—Wait. Hold everything. His first name is Fitzwilliam? That's horrible." The giggle that came out of him then… She was dropped right back into that saloon in LA with the huge horseshoes on the wall, the alcohol in her system, telling Ellie Bartowski that she loved her brother. Because she knew now that alcohol had only aided in her blurting it out loud; it hadn't made her say something that wasn't true.
It was true.
She loved him.
"Fitzwilliam! Oh my God. All these years, my sister has been melting and fawning over a man named Fitzwilliam." He threw his head back with even more laughter. "I mean, I know…I know my name is Chuck. I'm not saying Chuck is great or anything, but at least it isn't Fitzwilliam."
Snorting, Sarah shook her head, waiting for his laughter to die down a little. "You done?" she finally asked, amused out of her mind.
"For now. This is one of those things that's gonna swing back around in the future when I least expect it and I'm gonna get the giggles again. During an important V.I. board meeting or something. I just know it."
Sarah giggled this time. "Yeah, well… whatever floats your boat. Weirdo."
She made good on her threat from earlier then, pushing past him to crawl onto the bed, not stopping until she reached the wooden headboard, the pillows propped against it looking insanely comfy. She spun to flop onto her back, squishing herself into the pillows, discovering that they were more than just insanely comfy, they were heinously comfy. "Oh my God, how do you ever get out of bed? This thing is stupid comfortable bed with the most comfortable pillows…"
"Nice, huh? Alas, I have responsibilities, so I do end up finding the willpower to crawl out of bed. Eventually."
She sighed, melting further into it. She wasn't in the least bit tired, that nervous energy, the fear she still hadn't been able to shake, sitting in her gut. But she also didn't want to get up from here. So she reached out towards him, hoping he understood her wordless request.
Chuck did, kicking off his slippers leaping onto the bed with a cute, "Whee!", landing with a, "Whoomf!", crawling up to her as she giggled. He mimicked her pose, lying back next to her, their shoulders, hips, and legs pressed together.
"You doin' okay?" he asked after a good three minutes or so of comfortable silence.
"Hmm? Oh, you mean the…Daniel Shaw stalking me thing? The not feeling comfortable in my own home tonight thing? I guess. I'm still freaked out. I've had guys be creepy before…all women have," she groused, rolling her eyes. "But I'm pretty certain nobody's ever planted a listening device in my place of work. So…there's that."
"Would it make you feel better if it was only partially about him thinking you're fascinating and hot and wanting to stalk you?" She made a confused face at him as he continued. "I still think Cadabra is part of it. I still think they want your know-how for their book section. And maybe they picked you first because it was up to Shaw and he's a disgusting creep, but the rest of us were probably gonna get bugged eventually, too."
"That should probably make me feel a little better. At least on a personal level?" She sighed. "But it doesn't because I'm furious they would do something so awful. I mean, really? You can't stand on your own business model? You have to bug small businesses to learn how they operate so that you can try to make your store profitable? It's fucking pathetic."
"Pathetic is the perfect word for all of this." He rested his hand on his thigh and she subtly watched as he slowly drummed his fingers against the plaid cotton of his pants. It felt like he had something else to say but he was trying to decide if he should say it. And then his voice finally cut into the silence, quiet but there all the same, his fingers stopping their drumming against his leg. "Sarah, you know I'd never let anything happen to you, right?"
Sarah turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised. He looked right back at her, his own brow furrowed, his eyes so sincere. Was that even a promise he could make? She didn't know if it was a promise anyone could make.
And at the same time, it hit her exactly right. Because no one in her twenty-six plus years of life had ever said that to her, let alone meant it.
She didn't need protection. She hadn't needed protection since she was a freaking child, and even then, she wasn't sure if she'd really gotten the protection she'd needed. But having someone who made her feel safe, who intended to protect her, who she had every intention of protecting back, felt like a gift.
"I hope that isn't…offensive. I don't mean to—"
"It was you," she breathed, smiling at him. He blinked once at her, seeming confused. But of course he was, considering she'd just whipped that out, out of nowhere. "The cell phone, Chuck. The little…diagram with all of the info printed out on it, the compatible apps, the accessibility, the price points for plans. All of it you stuck on that one sheet of paper, it was you. You slipped it under my store's front door for me to find, so that I could help my mom get exactly the phone she needed. It was you."
Chuck gaped at her, and she could see she'd knocked him on his ass. He didn't know what to say or how to say it. He pushed himself to sit up straighter, wincing. "Oh. Um. I…" She let him work through it, not interrupting. Was he going to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about? Maybe that crossed his mind. But then he huffed and shook his head, sending her a sheepish look.
And finally…
"Yeah," he breathed. "I, um, I drew it up and slipped it under your bookstore's door."
And there it was. After all of these months. At a time when she'd been so sure the guy who owned the comic book shop next door hated her because she'd come from nowhere to lease the store space he'd wanted to expand into, he'd been the one to help her, to help her mom. In a huge way. And he'd done it anonymously, with no intention of her ever knowing it was him.
This whole time, she'd kind of known it was Chuck. And then the signs kept underscoring her theory. How good he was with technology, how much he knew about it, about tablets and computers…and cell phones.
"Thank you," she said, deciding that was the most important thing that needed to be said. "Thank you for doing it, Chuck. My mom—Well, I wasn't sure it was a legit situation, that job she needed it for seemed kind of sketchy, but she insisted. And I didn't even know where to begin. Whoever gave me that information made my life so much easier and really helped my mom, too. I had so many responsibilities I was juggling and she dropped one more into my lap but someone took it off my hands and handed me a solution. And this whole time it was you."
Chuck sighed, shrugging one shoulder, staring down into his lap. "I'm sorry I was so secretive about it. I didn't think you liked me and I thought you'd think I was a weirdo creeper or something. I'm-I'm glad it helped, though. I'm glad your mom's able to work that job."
"Weirdo creeper?" Amused, she sat up as well so that she could lean in and catch his gaze. "Oh, you mean because you clearly had to be eavesdropping to know exactly what my mom needed?"
He winced hard. And then he rushed into a panicked explanation. "I didn't mean to. I was eating lunch in my car with the windows down, just-just for a change of scenery, you know? And you walked out on the phone and your car was so close to mine and I heard the whole conversation—well, your side of it. And I didn't know what to do, if I should wave or get your attention or something so you knew I was there, but then I waited too long and I knew if I did it after so much time had passed, you'd be like 'well why the hell didn't you say something sooner'? So I just awkwardly sat there, hearing it all."
Sarah couldn't help it. She had to laugh. A light, melodic laugh came out of her as she slowly slid her fingers around his and picked up his hand, pulling it into her lap and playing with it. "That all makes sense to me. I'd probably freak out and do the same thing. Just stay super still in my car."
"Yeah, I'm a mess."
"We all are," she giggled. "But why didn't you say anything? Why'd you just…slip it under my door? I would've understood." And maybe she knew at least a little bit that she was simplifying things. Would she have understood then? Or would she have been a jerk and thought he should mind his own business? Who was he to help her? What made him think she needed his help?
"I know that now, I guess, it just—Like I said, I thought you didn't like me. I didn't exactly give you the best first impression, or second, or third, or…well. You know. And I wanted you to take that recommendation from a random anonymous person who was trying to help and not think it was the obnoxious idiot from next door pushing a crappy phone with a crappy plan at you."
She grinned. "Ah. You didn't want my bias coloring my decision about which phone to get for my mom."
He just sighed, shutting his eyes tight and hanging his head. "There's no way for me to look good here and that's why I never said anything."
"You're crazy, you know that? In what way does what you did not make you look good? You went out of your way to research which phone would be best for my mom, based on a one-sided conversation you accidentally overheard, and then you gave me the info anonymously so that you wouldn't get credit. You literally helped me and my mom, two people you didn't know, even with the fact that you thought I didn't like you, and you did it with no expectation of reward, or even acknowledgement. You helped simply to help. You're amazing, Chuck."
And she loved him.
He'd been completely goofy, the way he'd gone about it. And yet. He'd done it. "Looking out for me even back then when you thought I hated you, when you probably hated me back."
"False. I didn't hate you. I thought you were an extremely beautiful and smart woman who most likely thought I was a fuggin' dunce, so I…I dunno, I tried to keep my distance. And hide."
"You hid from me?" she chuckled, giving his hand a tug.
He wrinkled up his face in mortification. "Only a handful of times, okay? Those months when you were fixing up the place and doing the move-in were rough. I was going through shit. Most of it was…made up in my head, but still."
She shook her head, smiling at him. "It is absolutely bonkers to me that a few months ago, you were actively hiding from me when I was around the shopping center and now you're my boyfriend."
Chuck immediately spun to face her better, pointing at her. "You said that. You just said… I'm your boyfriend."
Sarah pursed her lips, genuinely confused. "…Y-Yes? Are you…not? I mean, I guess the whole labels thing isn't…for everyone. But I thought this was…happening. I mean us. Am I…wrong?" Because when fear struck her right in the center of her chest, the first thing she wanted was to be wherever Chuck Bartowski was. And she was frightened by how monumental that was. Frightened but…here. Instead of running away, she was here.
"You aren't wrong," he rushed out. "No, no. Not…at all. We just never said it, so hearing you say it kind of… Wow, okay. All right. I'm your boyfriend. You're my girlfriend. We're boyfriend and girlfriend. We're in a relationship. This is a romantic relationship and that's what's happening. Whoa."
She made a face, amused even as the realization hit her. "We are very different, you and I." That got her a questioning look. "I just sort of figured with all of the—I mean, we're having a lot of sex, but there's also a lot of other stuff going on here. You invited me here and let me see all of your nerd stuff everywhere. I called you before anyone else when I was scared. I came to you before my mom or my dad or anyone. And I just assumed that meant this was happening. And this whole time, you were waiting for the labels to drop, like you needed it to be said verbally." She giggled. "We're so different."
He finally chuckled as the humor settled in him. "We are, I guess. Is it so bad, though?"
"No," she said adamantly. "I think it's good. But I've said it now, do you feel better? We're dating exclusively. There."
"Label dropped."
She laughed. "Yes. Label dropped."
"I feel…extremely good. Yes." He turned that massive grin of his on her. She felt a thrill crashing through her chest. But then his grin dimmed just slightly as he brought a hand up to tenderly stroke the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. "As your officially labeled boyfriend, I feel like it's my duty before anyone else's to make sure you feel as safe as possible after what happened today."
"Like I said, I came here first for a reason. But you're doing a bang-up job so far, Mister Bartowski," she teased.
"Good, but I'd like to do more." He fully cupped her face in his hand now, nuzzling her nose. "What can I do? Tell me. What do you need?"
Sarah bit her lip, unable to stop herself from thinking about what it felt like to be wrapped up in his arms, his slim hips trapped between her thighs, his weight pushing down on her, his mouth on her skin, her name on his lips.
Even if she'd tried to halt the words from tumbling out of her mouth, she wouldn't have been able to. "Make me forget about today. Make me feel something else besides these…awful nerves."
He knit his brows in understanding, and then his mouth was on hers, and he gathered her up in his arms, slowly lowering her back onto the bed, the heinously comfortable pillows under her shoulders and head. Sarah lounged into the mattress as he took his time peeling her out of her clothes, crawling down her body, and doing more than just making her forget the day and her nerves. She forgot everything. She knew only him, the unrivaled talent in his mouth, and the nerves got lost in the ecstasy.
}o{
It was like his heart had overgrown his body and was thumping like mad everywhere. Just one massive, deep pulse—in his head, his shoulders, arms, fingers, legs, feet, toes, his wrists and ankles even. Just a frenzied, loud du-dunk du-dunk da-dunk in his ears.
He distantly felt the smooth, hot hand pinned between his and the headboard slip away, and then that hand was in his hair at the back of his head.
And another hand landed on his forearm that was wrapped around her lower belly, her fingers tracing up to his elbow and back down again. He couldn't grab onto a concrete thought though, not even one, the da-dunk da-dunk was too loud, the waves of the best sensations he'd ever felt still crashing over his head.
But then he felt her start to lower away from him and his arm automatically tightened to keep her back to his chest. Her hand in his hair pulled him closer, too.
His eyes still shut tight, he heard her pant, "My legs…giving out…"
With a nod, he let them both spill onto the bed together, like they were syrup being slowly poured onto the mattress.
The sound she made when he shifted just enough to lever his lower body off of hers send the best shivers through him, but he let his chest drape over her back still, their weight pressing into the bed, his lips against her jaw.
There was no such thing as a better Saturday morning than this.
He didn't want to even open his eyes for fear there'd be a clock or something in his view and it'd be late and they'd have to rush out of bed and get dressed and… Nope.
Sarah was pinned under him, on her stomach, still breathing hard. Only, he noticed that they were breathing together. He felt it. Their rough breathing was synchronized.
And while not everything the last few hours since they woke up tangled together and without a shred of clothing between them had been synchronized, per se, it had felt like a dance—at times graceful and exciting, other times wild, untamed, slaking thirst.
Last night had been different, all intimacy, a meeting of hearts and souls, gazes meeting too. They'd made love. He felt it in every bit of what happened after Sarah had asked him to make her nerves go away. Every bit of love he felt for her had gone into last night, and he knew beyond all doubt that he had an infinite reservoir of love where this bookseller was concerned.
Not that he'd say that out loud at this point.
But they hadn't held back, and they hadn't stopped for some time. It was the first experience in his life in which he'd fallen asleep before he was able to find boxers or something, anything, to slip on for comfort and modesty's sake.
So when he felt the smooth skin under his hands, pressed against his front, long, muscled legs tangled with his, and he finally blinked his eyes open in the greying dark of the early morning to find her tired but excited blue eyes staring at him, so close, so filled with need, he hadn't hesitated. Nor had she.
The grey outside became deep purple, became blood orange, and now there was more light in the room, but it still had a haze to it. And through it all, they'd been relentless.
Even now that they'd done all they could possibly do with the very human bodies that they were given by whatever natural or godlike force that had that power, her grip on him hadn't abated, her fingers twisted in his curls, her fingernails digging into his forearm, arms pinned under bodies, pushed against the mattress.
Still drowning in the absolute freaking force of what had just occurred between them, and for what had to be hours, Chuck's mouth blurted out a rough, strangled, "Merry Christmas Eve Eve to us."
What?!
He shut his eyes tight, waiting for her inevitable response as her body tensed under his.
And then she burst into laughter, a breathless laughter granted, but still.
He buried his face in her hair with a groan.
"What is wrong with you?" she finally gasped out as her laughter started to abate. "God, Chuck." She slid her arm out from under them and slapped it against the pillow under her head, and he watched as she curled her fingers into it and squeezed, her knuckles going white. Even now, he felt how hot that was deep in that spot behind his belly button. This was truly unhinged.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Merry Christmas Eve Eve to us? I can't," she giggled. She craned her neck a bit to look at him. "If I were to clump all of my sexual experiences before you together they wouldn't amount to even a fraction of how insanely fantastic these last few hours were. I mean, this was the most mind-blowing shit," she said in a breathless gasp. "And that's what you decide to say after?"
"Well, first of all, thank you. And ditto. I can't…really breathe yet." Then he added in a droll voice, "And my bad."
She giggled again. "It's actually fine. After what you just did to me, I'd let you get away with fucking anything, oh my God." She let out a moan that made that sensation behind his belly button throb again.
"Can I…remind you of that later if my mouth does something stupid again?"
Sarah turned her face into the pillow and let out a muffled laugh. Then she shifted to turn a toothy grin on him, her eyes half-lidded and deliciously satisfied. "Sure."
He finally rolled onto his back beside her and he heard her taking deep, calming breaths, before she turned onto her back as well. He let his head loll to the side so that he could watch her cover her forehead with the back of her hand, her eyes shut, chest heaving.
"You should be locked up," she finally said, her voice seeming to gain a bit more strength. He laughed, blushing. "No, I'm serious. Nobody should have this much power."
"Well, they'd have to lock you up with me. I didn't do this by myself. It takes two to tango. And I think all this tangoing broke things in me that I didn't know existed."
"Oh no. Think they'd stick us in there together?"
"A little two bed, two bath cell?"
"Two bed?" she asked, opening her eyes and sending him a misleadingly innocent pout.
Daaammmnnnnnn, he was toast.
She shook her head with a quiet laugh then, pushing her hands through her hair and bending one knee, her heel propped on the mattress. "I don't know how much marching they're expecting from us today, but I might have to stand on the sidelines for that part of it." The chuckle she emitted was both bubbly and gusty and he was exceptionally proud of himself.
"I'll make you breakfast and you'll get the energy back."
"Nuh uh. No." She shook her head. "I'm making breakfast this time. No arguments from you, buster."
"Buster? Wow."
She snorted, and then she stretched, and he could not look away. But then she glanced at him and he found the strength to do so. Fast.
When she sat up to scoot to the edge of the bed, there was a shyness in her face. She even gathered up the sheets to wrap them around her midsection, tucking her mussed hair behind her ear, a blush on her cheeks. She looked at the sliding doors that led to his bedroom balcony. The curtains were pulled shut but lines of sunlight snuck through the slats still. "Um, is it okay if I…use your shower?"
"Please. Absolutely. Of course."
"Thank you," she said, looking around his room for something. She cleared her throat as she picked across the floor, snatching her underwear from where he'd distractedly thrown it last night. And then she snagged her overnight bag that they'd kicked off the end of the bed last night as well. He remembered hearing the loud thump after she'd knocked her foot into it and sent it tumbling, the way they'd laughed, the laughter melting into moans.
Chuck took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. They really couldn't do more of that. He had phone calls to make today and Sarah had a protest to likely lead. Between her and Martha, they'd handle it just fine. And he also felt deeply bereft he wouldn't be there, too.
Damn it.
Sarah disappeared into the bathroom, leaving his sheets behind. The door was slightly ajar, and he soon heard the spray of the shower smacking against the tile.
A/N: More fun is on the way. Stick around.
And review please! Thank you!
-SC