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: I appreciate those of you who are still here. A whole lot.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or its characters, and any similarities in this fic to any corporate entities are just coincidence... shh.
"I thought we were going to let Sarah let us know when she didn't want us around anymore."
Ellie turned to narrow her eyes up at him. "Yeah, we were. But it really felt like she could use a little help in the moment."
He shrugged the shoulder his sister rested her hand on. "I'll give you that."
"One thing about having no mom and dad…"
"Never having them tell your new friends how badly they want you to get laid?" Chuck offered.
Ellie chuckled. "Exactly. Poor Sarah. That was excruciating. At least it was us, though."
Yeah. At least it was them: Ellie Bartowski, an incredibly warm, kind, and tactful person, and Chuck Bartowski, the person Sarah'd just had sex with the night before.
Jesus Christ.
Words absolutely needed to be exchanged before he blew up. And those words needed to be exchanged between him and Sarah herself, first and foremost. He wasn't entirely sure Ellie wouldn't scream if he said something out here on the makeshift dance floor with other dance couples swaying to and fro to a jazz cover of "Blue Christmas".
"I like her," Ellie was saying.
He cleared his throat and looked back at her, trying to focus on not crushing his surgeon sister's feet. She kind of needed them. "Sarah? Me, too." A lot. A whole lot. More than he was willing to admit, and that was saying something because he was willing to admit a whole lot of things pretty much all the time.
"Well, yes, Sarah. Obviously. But I meant her mom, Emma. Even with whatever that tension is that we both feel between them, you can tell she loves her daughter. And Sarah clearly loves her mom."
Chuck nodded, turning to glance back towards the table.
Sarah was not enjoying the conversation she was having with her mom, whether she loved her or not. Her face was in her hands, but Emma was smiling widely. Was she still embarrassing her about dating stuff? That had felt cruel and he wasn't sure if Emma was trying to mortify her daughter on purpose or not…
God, he was the last person on Earth who wanted to hear Sarah Walker insist she didn't have the time or the energy to date right now, even if he completely understood the sentiment.
His hope was that last night wouldn't be a one-time thing that just…sat awkwardly between them, even if neither of them regretted it, and he still wasn't sure if she regretted it or not, damn it.
It had felt so so good in so so many ways, like something had awakened inside of him, something that had been dormant his whole life, dormant with other women, even the ones he thought he'd been head over heels in love with. Not just an unbridled, frenzied passion—though that was there, too—but an inexplicable sense of being exactly where he needed to be, in that moment, deeply…well, enmeshed. And a sense that she was enmeshed, too. They were enmeshed together, leaving the planet behind together, blasting off into the whole wide universe together.
"As she should," he found himself saying. "She should love her daughter, not just because she's her daughter but because you…" He paused, clearing his throat a little. "You were right about Sarah. There is something about her that's special. She's…very special."
Ellie's green eyes glittered like emeralds in the sunlight that snuck through the sparse clouds covering their festival. "Ah. So you see it, too."
"I…I do. Further cementing what I said which is that she is way, way out of my league," he said with a chuckle. He meant it, and it made a sort of ache go through his chest. "So don't you go getting ideas."
"Oh, calm down. I don't have ideas. …Her mom sure does, though."
"Yeah, I heard. Yeesh. You'd think single-handedly opening a big ol' bookstore like that, and running it once it is open, all of it without hired help, would be enough of an accomplishment…"
Ellie sighed. "It's probably a generational gap thing. Emma's, what, like…fifty?"
"She does not look it. I was gonna say in her forties."
"Well, look at her daughter for shit's sake," Ellie groused, making Chuck laugh. "The important thing is that Sarah knows we've got her back. In spite of whatever her…parental situation is, she is a good cookie. We gotta look out for the good cookies in the world."
A slow smile grew over his face as he thought, for the millionth time in his life, about how much he really did love his sister. "Good cookies are the ones who go out there and save the world. Without them, the bad cookies will take over everything and—No? Did I go too far?"
"You really love to take my metaphors and drive them off a bridge, don't you?"
"It isn't on purpose."
"I don't know that I believe you," she giggled. She made a squeaky little sound then. "Aww and did you see the way Emma gushed about how Sarah helped her with her cellphone so that she could take that second job? She sounded like such a grateful and proud mom. So sweet that Sarah did that."
Chuck didn't mean to make a face, but he apparently had, because his sister pulled her chin back and gave him a dubious look. "What?"
"What what…"
"Don't 'what what' me. Devon does that shit, too, and I hate it. You know what. You had a look on your face. You went like this." She made an overtly suspicious face and widened her eyes, looking off to the side, dodgy-like. "What do you know that I don't know?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. It was very nice, what Sarah did for her mom."
"Chuck." She used the hand on his shoulder to poke him hard right above his collarbone. "Tell me."
"Ah! Ow! What the hell? That actually hurt!"
"Sorry! But tell me!"
He growled at her, grabbing her hand and smacking it back onto his shoulder properly. "Look, I'll tell you but don't tell Sarah. And no more painful poking. Christ…"
"Fine. Talk."
Chuck stole another glance over his shoulder at the mother and daughter, the two of them seeming a bit more at ease as they spoke. Neither of them were paying attention to the dance floor, so he turned back to Ellie and took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to overhear her talking to her mom I really didn't but I felt like a change of scenery at lunch one day and I was eating in my car so I heard her side of the conversation when her mom was asking for help with the phone and Sarah didn't see me there and it got to a point where I could say something but if I did then it'd be even more obvious I was eavesdropping so I just shut up and stayed very still…"
Ellie's eyes got wider and wider as the words tumbled out between his lips. When he paused for a moment, she interceded. "Chuck? …What did you do?"
He winced. "I knew she needed a cheap smartphone that was compatible with certain apps her new job required her to have, so I did my old Buy More shtick, went through my arsenal of knowledge, drew up a whole thing of the best phone option's schematics, price range, the app compatibility, and I slipped it under the door of the bookstore one night when I knew she'd already left to go home so that she'd find it the next morning."
Ellie stared for a long moment, and then she laughed. It exploded out of her. She even threw her head back. He had to hold onto her tighter to keep her from tipping back and falling onto her ass, she was laughing so hard.
People started turning to cast amused, curious looks at them now, too. Chuck let out a weak "heh", pointing at her, and muttering, "I guess I'm funny. Yeah."
When her peals of laughter finally died down, she wiped at the tears resting just below her eyes and shook her head at him. "Why are you so weird, Chuck?"
"I'm not weird. I was trying to help."
"But you snuck around and slipped it under her door? Really? Like you're some kind of sneaky spy? I know you didn't want her to know you overheard her conversation but you could've just told her like a real person and let her know you wanted to help. When was this?" she asked, still giggling a little.
"Just before the grand opening of her bookstore… I guess. I-I don't remember."
He did remember.
But now that she'd made fun of him for his tactics, she didn't get to know that. The brat.
"Oh, you sweet, sweet guy." She tugged at his jacket. "It is very thoughtful. That was sweet of you. Especially because I know you were all Bitter Betty about her moving into that spot instead of getting to expand your store back then. It was big of you to go out on a limb for Sarah and her mom."
He rolled his eyes. "Somebody needed help and I felt the need to help them. That's all."
"Mhm. You sweetheart. Was that the phone you suggested? The one she showed us?" He nodded, pleased with himself in spite of his sister's laughing at him. "Well, it made a huge difference in her life. Why wouldn't you want Sarah to know that? Or Emma, for that matter?"
"I didn't do it for credit. I just wanted to help. Sarah seemed super upset, and, I dunno, tired. She had a lot on her plate with the store about the open and I had the time and energy and expertise that was needed for something like that, so I just…did it. I wasn't trying to win points with her or whatever. So I slipped it under the door so she wouldn't know it was me." He shrugged.
"I don't know who raised you but they sure did it right. Even if you went about it in a way that's kind of…well, you're a doofus, Charles Irving, and I guess I love you for it, not in spite of it." She let go of him, but only long enough to wrap her arms around his shoulders and hug him tight.
"You raised me," he chuckled. "Speaking of people not wanting to take credit."
"Eh. A formality."
He laughed this time. But then he was sure he lost hearing in one ear when his sister let out a sudden, dog-whistle pitched squeal. "He came! Oh my God!"
Chuck turned to glance over his shoulder, pulling back from the hug and holding onto his ear in pain.
He spotted the tall, blond heart surgeon making his way around the stage where Martha was DJing, casting his blue eyes around the festival, looking for them. "Hey, I thought he was working today." He lifted a hand to wave and get Captain Awesome's attention.
"He was. Maybe they sent him home because they overstaffed." She lifted her arm and waved like a crazy woman.
When Captain Awesome caught sight of his girlfriend, a grin blasted over his face and he waved back with a loud, booming, "Oh hey, Babe!"
And just like that, Chuck lost his dance partner as he turned to watch happily as his sister ran and leapt into her boyfriend's arms. The kiss they engaged in was…a little much with kids around, and he turned away with a grossed out face.
But that meant he wasn't ready when the man he knew would be his brother-in-law someday wrapped him up in a bear hug from behind and lifted him off of his feet. "Brooo! I'm so proud of you!" Awesome exclaimed.
Chuck cracked up, shocked as he hovered in the air, Awesome's hug squeezing him almost painfully. He finally got set down and chuckled, turning to face the genuinely good man who made his sister happier than he could've ever dreamed. "Thanks, Captain Awesome. I really appreciate it."
"I think today you are Captain Awesome," the surgeon said, beaming. "You did all of this yourself, dude. It looks fantastic! I was so bummed I was missing it and then we had too many on the floor and I offered to go home."
"Such a hero, this man of mine," Ellie teased, kissing his jaw.
"Yeeeah, it was the least I could do. I made the sacrifice." He sent Chuck a wink, his handsome grin lighting up the whole festival all on its own just about. They didn't need Sarah's string of lights she'd labored so hard over choosing; they just needed Devon Woodcomb to stand here grinning like this.
Awesome turned and kissed Ellie's temple. "So? What'd I miss? What're we up to?"
"You're about to dance with me," his fellow doctor insisted. She winced at Chuck. "Sorry. Not to ditch you, but—Oh! Duh!" She rushed out of Awesome's embrace and patted Chuck on the shoulder as she dashed past him.
"Oh God no," he muttered, watching as his sister snagged Sarah's arm. She was alone now and he couldn't see her mom anywhere. She was trying to put Ellie off but Ellie was determined, dragging her over. "Damn it, Ellie."
"What's the problem?" Awesome turned to follow his gaze. "Oh. Bro, who's that? She's extremely hot."
"Can you not?" he rasped, as Ellie and Sarah were definitely within earshot and Devon Woodcomb was not good at tactful voice volume. Ever. For any reason. Suffice to say, last Christmas, Ellie's gift wasn't a surprise when he "whispered" what it was to Chuck while she was on the other side of the room.
And when Ellie practically jammed Sarah into his arms, Awesome gave him a painful poke with his elbow and winked, adding an okay sign with his fingers, before he swept Ellie away to dance with her.
As William Bell's "Everyday Will Be Like a Holiday" began playing from the stage, the timing a little bit suspect (he'd glare at Martha for it later), Chuck looked down at Sarah, shook his head with a wince, and said, "I'm so sorry. She shouldn't have—And he has, like, no tact. I don't—"
"It's okay," Sarah insisted, cutting him off. "Just dance."
Chuck swallowed hard. And then he nodded, smiling a little, stepping in closer, as she stepped in at the same time. Their fronts bumped and he stepped back again. "Sorry. I'm not…" He didn't even know what.
She giggled, stepping in again, and this time he stayed put. Her hand went to his shoulder, the other picking his hand up from where it rested limply beside his hip. He slid his free hand over her waist, then moved it across her back.
They began to sway to the music, their eyes meeting. He felt everything inside of him turn to liquid. "Pretty good turnout, huh?" was all he could muster.
She finally broke his gaze, looking around the festival grounds. "Incredible turnout. You were right, Chuck. You were right to put your trust in people. They showed up."
"Don't give me too much credit. Sometimes my faith and trust is misplaced and I get egg in my face. Usually thrown by the person I chose to trust." He winced.
He felt her hand squeeze his shoulder for a moment. "And you still choose to trust people? Have faith in them?"
He could sense that she wasn't challenging him. Instead, she was curious.
"I guess so. I'd rather have egg in my face and give people a chance, than have no egg on my face and folks were never given the chance to do the right thing." He wrinkled up his face in confusion. "Did that even make sense?"
"Yes," she giggled, nodding. "I get what you're saying. Between this and refusing to out Martha as the sign culprit, you seem intent on taking hits for other people."
"Well, you say it like that and I'm kind of second-guessing it now…" he said with a chuckle.
"No, don't," she insisted, smiling, nudging him with the hand that had her fingers threaded with his. "Don't second-guess your habit of giving people the benefit of the doubt. It's refreshing in a world that feels like it's full of selfish people." She nodded her head in the direction of the monstrosity warehouse. "Case in point. Fuggin' Geoff."
He laughed. "Ah yes. Fuggin' Geoff. Today's been going so well I'd almost forgotten about him."
"Go back to forgetting him for a bit. We can get back to that fight…tomorrow. Today is about celebration. Celebrating community…friendship…"
"Family," he added, flicking his head in the direction of Ellie and Awesome clearly enjoying their dance, in their own world, their eyes shut. "Even if they're completely lacking in tact."
Sarah snorted, moving in a little closer, her right cheek touching his. And she breathed, "I think they're lovely," into his ear.
They were quiet for the rest of the song, just swaying together. And Chuck did his best to live in the moment without completely losing himself in her the way he had the night before. They were alone then in a way they weren't here, with everyone around. He couldn't embrace her tightly, shut his eyes, and breathe everything about her in. He couldn't do what he wanted to do. Not in this moment.
Instead, he was enjoying what he had.
Her hand in his, their fingers threaded. All he had to do was move his head just slightly and he could feel her silky-soft hair against his nose, so he did it. He smelled her shampoo, and he thought he felt her pull him closer, but maybe he'd merely stepped on a piece of uneven ground, it was so slight.
The song ended, Marvin Gaye's voice floating soothingly over the festival, singing about wanting to come home for Christmas. Chuck swallowed and shifted to move away from her, let go, even though it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.
But Sarah tightened her grip on him, and this time he couldn't blame it on an uneven patch of grass when she pulled him in a little closer. "Not yet. Please."
Oh. It was a really good thing there was a heart surgeon so close by because his heart wasn't going to survive this.
Chuck nodded, her hair tickling his nose again. "I'm not going anywhere," he said just as quietly.
She squeezed him in both of her hands and he felt her nose nuzzle his ear.
He squeezed back, taking a deep breath, holding her just a little closer. And when the jingle bells shook rhythmically in the song, he decided to go out on a limb, stepping back just enough to raise their arms up over their heads and spin her, making her giggle gustily, beaming up at him as she stepped into his chest again.
He tightened his arm around her lower back, threading their fingers, swaying again, face to face.
Chuck didn't know if his guard was down from how good this felt, from the look in her eyes, the headiness of her breathing "not yet" in his ear, but he couldn't stop himself from asking what he'd been stressing over all day, and all through the night before that.
"Do you regret what we did last night?"
Shit.
Her blue eyes went wide and her body tensed; he could feel it, as close as she was pressed to him.
He had regrets about opening his mouth in this moment, fucking ruining everything. Because that was what he did, wasn't it? God damn it.
And then he didn't regret asking because he needed to know, right here and now. He'd rather know than be in the dark.
Eyes still wide, Sarah opened her mouth to speak, stilled her voice as if it got caught in her throat, and then she tried again, this time a slight "No" coming from between her lips.
No?
She seemed to get that maybe he needed a little clarification, because she repeated herself, this time much more steadily, a little louder: "No. I don't regret it."
Chuck stared down at her, his motor functions picking up the rhythm unconsciously, their forms still swaying to the music even when it switched to a song that was a little faster.
That was all he needed to know, he realized, a grin growing over his face in stages. She didn't regret it. He could tackle anything else from this point on.
Sarah began to sway faster, letting go of him, her arms over her head, pursing her lips. Actual dancing. Because Martha had switched to something faster, funkier.
Should he warn her about the fact that he couldn't dance?
Even though he was digging this funky "Santa Baby" instrumental, his body didn't move appropriately to stuff like this. He just sort of…nodded his head back and forth to it, his feet rooted to the ground.
Maybe he could just bow out now, go back to the Ashcan booth feeling really good about the No Regrets development and leave it on a really good note.
She'd start to regret a lot of things if she saw him dancing, and not just the way she'd caught him doing the wild jumping thing that didn't count as dancing with all of those kids, but, like…actively trying to dance and failing at it?
God no.
Oh shit no. Was Martha trying to kill him now? A mambo-sounding version of that Hippo for Christmas song started. Everyone around him was having fun, swaying their hips, stepping forward and backward, fists pumping.
Chuck gestured at Captain Awesome when he saw him pulling some expert mambo moves out of nowhere. "Oh come on, seriously?" he groused, making a disgusted face. Did he have to be so perfect at everything?
Sarah stepped in close and cracked up, pushing her face up against his chest. "Here. Put your hands on my hips." And then her hands went onto his shoulders. "Do what I do."
"That makes it sound so easy and I know it isn't."
He was absolutely wrecking this, staring at her hips, getting distracted by her hips, the way they swayed so hypnotically to the fun beat. He didn't want a hippopotamus for Christmas; he just wanted to be able to make his hips do what he needed them to do. "S-Sorry, I'm…I'm terrible at this," he tried to explain.
"Hush. Just listen to the music and watch my hips."
Oh, he was watching her hips.
And then she stepped forward towards him, forcing his foot back. "Good. And now step forward." He did, just narrowly keeping from crushing her sneaker-covered foot.
"Oh my God! I'm gonna kill your feet!" He tried to pull away.
"You're fine!" she laughed, keeping him in her arms with a vise grip. "Keep going."
Rolling his eyes at her, he stepped back, out of her grip, taking her hand from his shoulder and guiding her in a spin again, tugging her back towards him as she laughed, their fronts crashing together as the song ended.
He studiously ignored Awesome's exaggerated thumbs up in his direction, making Sarah crack up as he turned a flat look on her and shook his head.
But then Jackson 5's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" started and Sarah's mom joined them, an egg nog drink clutched in her fingers, dancing as she grabbed her daughter's hand, waving the drink in the other hand.
Their little group merged, kids coming back to do their cute little bending and jumping and fist pumping dancing. Chuck's sister wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, belting along with the song, making Chuck wince at how loud it was.
By the last refrain, everyone was singing with the group. Martha even came down to dance for a few songs, especially getting down when Ray and Jamal arrived, the three of them holding hands, moving to Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, Jamal still in his soccer cleats.
Filled with a renewed sense of hope in every sense of the word, Sarah pulling him in to dance to multiple songs, the way she'd looked him right in his eyes when she told him she didn't regret last night, Chuck finally lost his self-consciousness, bending his knees to get to Jamal's height, starting to copy the way the young pre-teen shifted his feet back and forth, pumping his arms back and forth as well.
"That's it, Chuck!" he heard Ray encourage from behind him. "Get it!"
Martha went back up to run the show, her family breaking off to explore the festival, and Chuck decided it was time to let his employees have some fun, too.
He was glad when Sarah gave her mom a side hug and opted to join him, insisting Flint had covered her for long enough.
But neither of them said a word as they made their way back across the grassy festival grounds towards their respective booths. Instead, he felt her steal a quick look at him, and he turned to look back at her. They both smiled, looking away, and he knew he was blushing, feeling like a freaking schoolboy with a crush on a girl who maybe liked him back.
At the very least, she didn't regret the way they'd thrown caution to the wind and given in to the heat of their undeniable magnetism.
And God, that was more than enough for him. Right in that moment, as he turned to face her, slowly backing towards his own booth as she watched him closely, one of her perfect eyebrows raised, it so was enough.
It was everything.
}o{
Chuck was sweeping by the community booth—aka the booth with the petition to tell Cadabra they could shove their shitty brick-and-mortar up their monopolistic ass—when he spotted something that made him stop in his tracks.
He hadn't seen Sarah's mom for a few hours, considering how he dove headfirst into selling comic books again, letting his employees go out and enjoy the festivities.
And now he saw her… but not alone.
She was leaning against one of the trucks they'd parked at the closest end of the parking lot to load everything back up in the morning when the party was over, the people having gone home.
Only she wasn't alone.
In fact, someone he recognized was there with her, leaning his elbow against the truck a mere couple of inches from her. Cool Guy. With his slick smirk and that swoop of his hair, that classy cool jacket of his, the jeans, the nice leather shoes.
They were talking to one another, she was laughing, sipping a drink, and he was grinning, his other hand on his hip.
Well, well…
Sarah's parents were here together, it seemed. That was kind of nice, he supposed.
But then Emma glanced over in his direction and caught sight of him. Oh. Oh, no. He felt a strange sense of deja vu, only this time, instead of the incredibly beautiful blond woman talking to Cool Guy deciding to pretend she hadn't seen Chuck and quickly looking away again…this incredibly beautiful blond woman lifted her hand and waved at him, smiling.
He waved and smiled back.
Oh shit, no. Sarah had definitely not wanted him to meet her dad. She'd been clear about that. But it was too late for him to back out now.
Cool Guy, aka Sarah's dad, had already turned to give him a quizzical look again. And then he smirked, though Chuck wasn't sure if it was a pleased smirk or not. He wiggled his fingers in a strange little wave, his face unchanging.
Chuck waved at him too, feeling his mouth twitch, but he kept the smile there anyway.
Emma waved him over. He tried to motion to the community booth, wiggling the petition clipboard as if he was in the middle of something, but it didn't seem to matter to her, because she waved him over again.
God.
Damn.
It.
Sorry, Sarah…I tried…
Grinning probably a little bit too hard, he nodded, putting down the clipboard and clearing his throat, running his hand down his jacket, straightening the collar a bit, and walking over to where they still leaned against truck side by side.
Sarah's dad straightened up when he neared them, though, crossing his arms in front of his barrel chest, tilting his head, his smirk growing. Chuck still couldn't get a read on the guy.
"Hi. Hey. Still enjoying the festival?" he asked Emma, pointing back over his shoulder with his thumb.
"Oh, it's a blast. You two kids did such a fantastic job." He raised his eyebrows. "Your sister told me that you and my daughter did most of the work getting this festival planned and up and running. A joint effort."
"It was definitely a team effort. A lot of folks got it up and running," he tried, but she seemed dubious. Then she reached over and put her hand on Cool Guy's bicep. And Chuck reminded himself this was Sarah's dad, not "Cool Guy", because if he slipped even once, his life would be over.
Sarah's dad turned to look down at Emma's hand on his arm and it felt like such a meaningful sort of thing to do, as if it didn't happen often, or ever anymore, and Chuck felt like he was walking into something that was a lot more complicated than it had seemed at first glance.
Oh, boy, did he ever want out of this situation. Immediately.
Sarah would not be happy he was standing here with both of her parents and she wasn't here to field the conversation.
He needed to make sure she knew it wasn't his choice. He had no choice.
"This is Sarah's dad, Jack. Jack, this is Sarah's friend, Chuck. That comic book shop is his." Emma gestured over her…husband's shoulder? Her maybe husband? Her maybe not husband anymore? Were they exes? Oh God, Chuck was way out of his depth.
But he stuck his hand out, smiling warmly at the older man. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."
"Uh huh." He unfurled one of his arms to clasp Chuck's hand in his tight grip. "An honor, he says. Don't bother saying you've heard a lot about me, kid, because I'm sure my li'l girl hasn't said a peep about her ol' pops."
"Oh. Um, no. But that's because…all we've talked about for weeks has been this festival. That's been the focus. Heh. She's…very focused, super driven, that daughter of yours." But his hand was still trapped in Jack's, and the grip got tighter before it loosened, finally relinquishing him.
It had felt…like a threat.
And Chuck wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Carlos, was it?"
Emma gave him an annoyed look. "Chuck. His name is Chuck."
"Oh." Jack snapped his fingers. "Shit, right. Sorry, kid. Chuck. That's right."
"Hey, it's okay. Carlos is better than…Chad. Chad's the worst. Please never call me that. Hah. Heheh. Eh. Ahem." He reached up and scratched the back of his head. "Great of you both to be here. I know this festival meant a lot to Sarah. Or, well, I'm assuming since she worked so…hard on it. With me. Felt like it was something we worked on night and day. Erm, mostly day," he rushed out when Jack's spine straightened and he narrowed his eyes. "It just…felt like it was…twenty-four-seven. That's all I mean. Heh. So how are you…doing? Mister…" Was it Walker?
"Just call him Jack," Emma said kindly.
"I liked 'sir' a lot, though." Jack crossed his arms again. "So comic books. Why? Ya never aged past twelve?" Emma elbowed him and he chuckled. "I'm just pullin' the kid's leg. It seems like a successful business. Congrats."
"Thank you. Thank you, sir. It makes me happy, and the hope is that it, um, makes other people happy, too. You know?"
Jack didn't respond, instead swiping his eyes down Chuck's tall form to his feet and back up to his face again.
Emma took pity on Chuck and rushed out, "We really wanted to make sure we supported Sarah, both of us. This bookstore's important to her. I didn't realize until I saw her in action…how much it suits her, how good she is at it." She leaned to the side to look down the row of booths to where Sarah's Castle in the Air Bookstore booth was, just past his Ashcan Comics booth.
Chuck turned to follow her gaze.
And he frowned as he saw a man—a young and arguably pretty good-looking man—leaning over the table towards the bookstore owner, a crooked smile on his face. His well-cut suit emphasized that he absolutely worked out. And the body language he was exhibiting as he spoke to the beautiful bookseller emphasized that he was absolutely flirting. Everything felt very…absolute about the situation.
"And apparently she's got admirers…" Jack said.
Chuck cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away. He hadn't been able to read anything but politeness from Sarah's body language and the look on her face, but she was so good at wearing a mask, he had no idea what lurked under the politeness.
The guy cut a really good figure in that damn grey suit with the tie and the nice shoes that weren't… He looked down at his own Converse sneakers and shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
"She's…really passionate about the store, and she's amazing at selling books," he said, feeling extremely lame the moment it came out of his mouth.
"Uh huh, he looks like he's tryin' ta sell somethin', too," Jack snarked. Chuck saw Emma smack Jack's arm and he gave her an annoyed look for it. Chuck was deeply uncomfortable, especially so now. But the look on Jack's face had changed. "No, I meant it. He's actually sellin' somethin'."
Chuck turned to look again. The guy did have a look to him, like he had an ultimatum. Or maybe Chuck was just biased against him because he was flirting with the woman Chuck was trying (and failing) not to hang hopes on for some sort of future romance. Or a present romance… he'd take a romance right now. Any kind of romance. Whatever she had to give him, he'd freaking take it.
"What do you mean? Like a vacuum cleaner?"
Jack snorted. "No, brainiac. I've seen suits like him before. He works for a corp. I bet he drives a Volkswagon GTI or some ugly little crap-toaster like that. He's probably boring as hell. Bet he buys Super Bowl squares at the office and brings non-alcoholic beer to parties."
Okay, that was funny. Chuck let out a laugh, turning back to add his own dig to Jack's. "One week, he's saying, 'Oh I don't drink' to people who offer him an alcoholic drink at a party, but then the next week, he's passed out under the table. Next week again: 'Oh I don't drink'."
Jack let out a snicker. "You got it, kid. But weren't you and all these shops fighting against that big box shithead Frezos putting his own store around the corner? Sarah mentioned that. He looks straight outta Frezos's school of douchebags. I know it when I see it. I read people."
"Mhm, for a living," he heard Emma mutter sarcastically, and he thought maybe Jack was the only one who was supposed to hear that.
Chuck pushed that crack to the side as felt his hackles rise. "Wait, what? You mean he works for Cadabra?"
"Look at the way he carries himself, Chester."
"It's Chuck," Emma whispered, but Chuck was letting him have the name thing for right now, because he was watching the VW GTI driver double down on the flirting, Sarah moving to lean back against the table behind her as they spoke.
He seemed to think he was making inroads, with the way his smile was widening.
Whether he was or not, Chuck didn't know. But if that was a Cadabra spy or something… He'd kick his ass. He really fucking would.
Chuck turned back to them. "Excuse me for a moment. I, uh, just need to…"
"Yeah, tell him to get his tongue back in his fuckin' mouth and to go back to his corporate bullshit corner office while you're over there, kid."
Ignoring Sarah's dad, his deep discomfort about that whole situation now on the back burner, Chuck hurried past the other booths and approached the Castle in the Air booth.
Sarah could handle her own business with this guy shamelessly flirting at her. Whether she was into it or not, and what she did about that, was up to her, even if it sent a bad feeling through him to think she would be into it (or do something about it) after the last twenty-four hours.
But if this guy was Cadabra and was slithering around their festival, she'd want to know that immediately. He was sure of it.
Her eyes lifted from the flirter and caught sight of Chuck closing in on the scene. She seemed not to know what to make of it, unsure of what the look on his face was. He didn't even really know what the look on his face was.
The slime ball in the grey suit followed her gaze and slowly pushed himself to stand up from where he was leaning, turning to face Chuck head on.
"Ah. The comic book shop owner, isn't it?" the guy asked. Chuck had a feeling Sarah's dad hit the nail on the head with this guy. The fact that he knew who Chuck was sent off alarm bells.
There was a feeling deep in his gut, and he didn't think it was jealousy.
"I was just talking to your employees. Good people," he said. Slime ball, stay the fuck away from my people.
"They are good people. The best. And you are?" Chuck asked point blank, coming to a stop in front of him.
Seeming put off by how blunt Chuck's question was, a smarmy look crossed the man's face. "Just someone interested in both of your businesses."
"Interested how?"
Sarah moved a bit closer. "Chuck…" He tried to convey to her that he wasn't being like this for any other reason than that this guy was probably up to no good, coming to their festival. He hoped she wasn't thinking he was being jealous or possessive after last night. Even if he was…admittedly a little jealous.
Having sex with someone—particularly the way they'd had sex, how intense it had been, and he needed that out of his head right now—made things hit different, didn't it?
She backed off a bit at the look he sent her, though, and he hoped that meant she read the right message.
"Ashcan seems to be really popular, a great business model. I commend you, Chuck."
"Thanks," he said, blunt again. "Are you just here to enjoy the festival? Or was there something else you wanted?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, shrugging.
"What's your name? You know mine, apparently. Chuck Bartowski, owner of Ashcan Comics." He pointed towards his shop. "So what's your story?"
The man reached up to straighten a bit of his ink black hair with lots of product freezing it into a neat swoop towards the back of his head. He was still clearly put off by how quickly Chuck had closed in on him, interrupted him, and was now interrogating him.
"Heh. Name's Shaw. Daniel Shaw."
He stuck his hand out. Chuck took it. "Nice to meet you, Mister Shaw. Listen, if you were sent here by a certain company, you should just be up front about it. We aren't gonna kick you out or anything, but we want to know who you're working for when you come here. Just so we're prepared not to give you the benefit of the doubt."
"Working for?" Shaw scoffed and crossed his arms, straightening his spine. "That isn't really your business, is it?"
Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. "Wait, who are you working for?"
Shaw turned to look at her. The person he was flirting at seemed to not be taking his bait anymore, if she ever did. "A guy can't just come to his local neighborhood festival on Small Business Saturday without being accosted? Is this the 'community' you small business folks talk about?" He did air quotes, the prick.
"Us small business folks?" Chuck asked, crossing his own arms. "Now that's interesting…"
"Okay, look. I do work for Cadabra." Sarah reared back, glaring immediately, crossing her arms now, too. "But I'm community outreach. This is what I do. I reach out to community, other businesses around. We can partner—"
"We can't and won't partner," Chuck said. "And we won't go away quietly, either. You can tell your boss Mister Frezos to expect a fight."
He felt Sarah's hand on his arm, a reassuring touch that also told him to slow his roll. But why? This guy needed to get the right message.
"A fight?" Shaw smirked. "Is that a fight you're looking to win, Bartowski? You realize superheroes aren't real, right? You can't just pluck them out of your comic books and ask them to help you against the big bad corporation."
"I don't need superheroes," Chuck shot back, "because the non-supers are just as capable of saving the day as the superheroes. If you picked up and read even just one comic, you'd know that."
"The non…supers? Really?"
Chuck ignored him. "If you're here to eat, dance, and buy stuff, cool, that's great, enjoy yourself. But when you get home, tell Daddy Geoff we are not to be underestimated."
Okay, maybe he was starting to steal stuff from his comics, but he'd never bullied a corporate spy out of his community festival before so he was grasping for straws here.
"Sure, pal," the guy said condescendingly, looking him up and down again. He was getting really tired of people doing that to him, sizing him up, deeming him to be non-threatening, harmless, and, in Sarah's dad's case, probably not enough for his daughter.
The spy turned back to Sarah. "As I was saying, I'll be around this area a little more often. Maybe we can grab coffee sometime. I saw there's a nice little café around the corner—"
"Cadabra thinking about putting a little coffee shop in their brick and mortar to put them outta business, too?" Chuck cut in, clenching his jaw. "Beans stolen from the lands of Ethiopia? Buy off some government officials so you can slap a Free Trade sticker on the side of the bag?"
The slick customer slowly turned to look at Chuck. "Maybe you can mind your own business, kid. We aren't talking about comic books; this is conversation for grown-ups."
"Or I can call security and we can Grown-Up Conversation your ass outta here, Cadabra Spy."
"So that's how you wanna play this then? I thought the community was for everyone. Isn't that what you're all about?" He spread his arms out mockingly. "I guess not everyone, then, huh? Cadabra sent someone in good faith, to make friends…" He turned to wink at Sarah, which was so the opposite of cool that it was almost pitiful.
"So you are from Cadabra. Good to know."
"…and you kick him out?"
"You're trying to poach," Chuck said. "Scoping us out, taking notes on what kind of businesses we have here so you can put us all out of business."
"Whatever fits your little narrative, slugger." Shaw patted his chest and Chuck had to resist grabbing the piece of shit and slamming him into the ground. That wouldn't help anything; it'd just get him arrested and ruin what was amounting to be one of the best days he remembered having ever.
He wouldn't let this sniveling asshole win like that. One moment of bliss watching his face slam into the ground wasn't worth it.
"You're losing your mind about me just walking around in here; we must have really pushed your buttons announcing our brick-and-mortar opening next door, huh?" He scoffed. "We aren't trying to put any of you out of business. We're a business, too, that's all it is. We found a good spot, a spot we think will be good for us and your community."
"And we let the chips fall where they may, right?" Sarah cut in, coming out from her booth and standing beside Chuck and Shaw's tense face-off. "Even if that means the rest of us go out of business?"
Shaw turned to her. "Nobody wants any of you to go out of business. That's what I'm saying. This was made out to be some sort of war, but Cadabra isn't coming in here with the intention to harm your small businesses. Capitalism is all about competition." He shrugged.
"Yeah, it is," Sarah argued. "So what's it called when a corporation drives everyone else out of business to become a monopoly, destroying all of said competition?"
"Cadabra isn't doing that. Anyway, I didn't come here to talk business."
"Well, you aren't trying to buy a book apparently so what are you here for?" Chuck mumbled sassily. He felt Sarah's eyes on the side of his face and he knew she finally caught the jealousy.
Damn it. He'd been so close to keeping that out of this.
"A date," Shaw said boldly. He turned and raised an interested eyebrow at the bookstore owner. Chuck did his best to rein himself in, and he didn't look at Sarah, even as he felt her looking at him.
"I'm afraid I can't help you with that," she said, making herself crystal clear. "If you want a book, however, I can help you with that. I'm sure I've got The 48 Laws of Power around here somewhere. But I'm sure you already have a copy, don't you?"
Shaw blinked at her, confused. "I…do, actually. I read it once a year."
Chuck didn't understand the implications of that, he'd never heard of that particular book, but Sarah seemed satisfied with herself for hitting the nail on the head.
"Well, if you change your mind…Sarah, was it? I'll be right around the corner soon." He pulled laminated business cards out of his inner jacket pocket and put one in Chuck's hand, the other he took his time with, sliding it into Sarah's grip.
She not-so-subtly tugged her hand out of his and snatched the card out of Chuck's too, tossing them both haphazardly onto her nearest table, crossing her arms. Boy, when she made a point, she really made it. The timing was very off, he knew, but he'd never thought it was possible to be this attracted to another person.
As Shaw slithered away, heading directly for the exit, making his intentions clear by not seeming to be into any of the wares being sold at the festival, Chuck felt Sarah's shoulder gently bump his arm. "Only way his exit could've been worse is if he told us there'd be plenty of jobs for us at Cadabra once our stores go under," she drawled sarcastically.
"He was flirting hard." Had he said that? Right off the bat? He hadn't meant to say that right off the bat. Damn it. That wasn't the important thing, here. The important thing was that: "I-I mean, what I mean is, erm, Cadabra sent a spy to scope us out. That's so dirty. So low-down and dirty."
When he chanced a look at Sarah beside him, she was staring up at him, her face unreadable. That damn mask of hers. "He was flirting hard. He seemed nice enough and it seemed harmless enough, but the more he went on, the more he talked, the more I got a feeling something was off but I couldn't figure out what."
"The slick corporate dude hairdo?"
She giggled. "I was thinking more the leather shoes that look like he's never worn them before, they were so pristine."
"I bet they squeak when he walks around in his corner office at Monopolies'R'Us HQ."
This time she outright laughed. "God damn it, the gall of them sending someone to this. A literal snake in the grass."
"He was snake-y, and I mean that in a bad way even though snakes themselves are kind of cool." He squirmed slightly then. "If I came off as—Um, I mean, I know you can handle yourself. That wasn't why I came over here. For the record." He turned to face her and she raised an eyebrow at him, one hand on her hip, her other fingertips cutely pressed down against her table as she leaned back and propped herself on them a bit. "I had a feeling he wasn't here just to check out the wares. Er, I-I mean, the products we're selling. The festival."
"You had a feeling?"
"Yeah. Um. I-I did. Um. Well, actually, it-it wasn't just me." She tilted her head in question. "Your dad spotted him from over th—" But when he turned to point at where Sarah's parents had been by the truck parked in the lot, they weren't there anymore. "Wha—? I swear they were just there." What the hell? "And they weren't ghosts or figments of my imagination, because I shook your dad's hand and he has a hell of a grip," he added, spinning back to Sarah.
Her jaw dropped. "My dad?"
"I know. I know you didn't want me meeting him. I didn't have a choice, though. I went over to check on how things were going at the community booth with collecting signatures on the petition and I saw your mom and dad over by that truck talking, and I tried to mind my own business but then Emma—y-your mom, she saw me, and she waved at me to come over and what could I do? Say no? I even tried to politely be like 'oh gosh sorry I'm working' with the clipboard of signatures and everything but she wouldn't relent so I went over there and she introduced me to your dad—"
"My mom and dad were…in the same space…talking to one another…" Sarah interrupted. It felt like she wasn't getting the important part of this. "That's crazy, Chuck. It's just not possible. They don't…talk. They haven't talked to one another since I was kid. They've been avoiding being in the same space as one another for, like, twenty years just about, to the point where it's childish and selfish."
Oh. Okay, maybe Sarah was focusing on the important part. Because it was important to her. And the pieces started sort of falling into place—at least some of them. "I didn't know that," he said quietly.
"No, of course not. How could you know?" she asked, still wearing the most supremely confused, disbelieving look on her face.
"I wouldn't have launched into talking about it the way I did if I'd known you went through all that growing up—a-a messy divorce, I assume. If I'd known, I could've had more tact. I should've had more tact anyway, because I don't know your story and that's what friends do; they protect each other from stuff like this." He shuffled his feet, feeling bad, especially with the stricken look that was still on her pretty face.
Her eyes swept up to meet his and she seemed to almost melt a little, lifting a hand to press it against his chest, her fingers gently stroking him. "Chuck, you're so sweet." She shook herself then and cleared her throat, glancing off to the side. "I don't know what's going on, why they're talking now, but were—I dunno, were they fighting? Did it seem like they were fighting?"
He furrowed his brow. "Fighting? No. They were all close and talking in low tones. Definitely not fighting."
She bristled. "What do you mean 'definitely'?"
"I-I dunno. It just seemed like they weren't fighting."
"There was extra meaning in that 'definitely', Chuck." She moved in close, her blue eyes flashing and her jaw hard. "Talk to me."
"It looked like…" He winced, not sure how she was going to react to this. "…flirting?"
Sarah's jaw practically hit the grass. "FLIRTING?!"
"Um. Maybe I was…misreading…?"
"They were flirting?!" she hissed. "What the fuck?!"
"I-I don't know what to do right now, I don't know how to help," he mumbled, fear in him. He'd never seen Sarah like this, even when she ranted about Cadabra, the monopoly threatening to swipe her dream right out from under her feet.
But then she pushed a hand through her hair and moved to lean against her table where she'd tossed Shaw's business cards like they were dirty toilet paper she picked off of her shoe after a visit to the public bathroom in a national park.
Her shoulders slumped. He unconsciously moved close to her, a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You okay?"
"What are they both doing here? And today? Of all days?"
"I don't know. I couldn't tell if they met on purpose or by accident because your mom called me over while they were in the middle of a conversation." He bit his top lip and narrowed his eyes. "Would it be so bad if they were being nice to one another for once?"
For a moment, she looked like the claws were coming out, her eyes blazing as she turned them on him. But then it eased just as quickly and she sighed, giving him a miserable look instead. "Twenty years of—Look, things weren't great. Haven't been great. Not for me. Everything was always so contentious. Always. Before they even split up. And I was always smack dab in the middle of it. To go through this shit for years with those two and then to hear they're just…casually flirting at this festival you and I worked so hard on the last two weeks, when they wouldn't be caught dead within miles of one another before this? I feel so fucking gaslit, Chuck." She covered her face and made a frustrated growling noise, pushing her hands into her hair and squeezing her head between them. "They always do this. Always. They make me feel like I'm the ridiculous one, when it's them. It's always been them."
And just as suddenly, he watched a wave of embarrassment come over her whole body, twisting in her face first, and then the rest of her squirmed as she pushed to her feet and cut her hand through the air between them. "Just forget it," she tried. "I'm being dramatic. I-I shouldn't have even said all of that crap."
But Chuck just reached out and oh so gently curled his fingers around hers. She stilled, turning to look at him, and then she lowered her gaze to his hand cradling hers and lifted her eyes back to his face. He smiled softly, as reassuringly as he could muster. "You aren't ridiculous. You aren't crazy. And from the few details you've just given me, I think it's safe to say you're completely valid for feeling the way you're feeling right now."
"Hm. You gonna give me the 'everything will be okay' pep talk now?" she asked, a small smile on her face as she tightened her fingers in his.
"No." He shook his head. "I don't know if it will be. All I know is no matter what's going on, your parents acting weird, corporate spies showing up and trying to ask you out on a date…" She pursed her lips and twisted them to the side, amused. "…a corporate brick-and-mortar moving onto our block to put us out of business… I'm gonna be here. With my comic books that allegedly only twelve year olds read," he scoffed, earning a snort from the bookseller. "And I hope I'm not being too much when I say I'm gonna be here for you."
She smiled at him. "You aren't being too much. You're being…you." Something in her eyes told him she thought that was a good thing. Score. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He paused, giving her hand another squeeze. "Now that I'm thinkin' about it, maybe if you accepted that coffee date with Cadabra Agent Shaw, you could get some really good intel for the A-Tea—"
WHAP!
"Ow!" he chuckled, holding onto his arm she'd hauled off and smacked. "What was that for?"
"You know what it was for," she giggled, rolling her eyes, taking her money belt off and slapping it into his hands. Seemed like he'd just teased his way into a job for the time being. "Cover for me, please? I need to find my parents, or at least one of them."
Chuck nodded. "Of course." As she smiled gratefully at him, she squeezed his arm where she'd just teasingly hit him. "Hey, do you think that Shaw guy has a whole drawer that's just shoe polish in every shade?"
She cracked up and walked away from him, glancing back just once before hastening off.
A/N: A LOT IS HAPPENING.
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-SC