Castle in the Air
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: Sarah has opened her dream bookstore just before the holiday season, but when a corporate monopoly announces their reduced-price brick-and-mortar is going in a block away, she must band together with her fellow small businesses to fight for their lives, even if it means getting past a slew of bad first impressions to work with Chuck, the owner of the comic book shop next door. AU Charah.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews and PMs and for being nice about this fic. I appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this chapter too. I just want to give a quick shout-out to my guy Joe. You know the one. Yes, THAT Joe! He'll know why when he gets to it. But I hope you're liking this story, Joe. I dedicate it to you, my friend. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or its characters, and any similarities in this fic to any corporate entities are just coincidence... shh.
The city was still cloaked in darkness when Sarah Walker woke up, with no lingering horrors from the multiple glasses of whiskey she'd imbibed save for a slight ache behind her eyes. Granted, she thought lack of sleep had something to do with that.
Yawning, she tried to stretch, only to discover something else.
Her arm was pinned under something and she couldn't feel it anymore.
There was also something draped over her midsection, and when she shifted her leg, the hem of her PJs rode up just enough for her to feel another leg under hers, and this one had hair on it.
Sarah blinked her eyes open oh so slowly. For a few moments, even in the darkness of the room, that pain behind her eyes got worse. But she clenched her eyes shut tightly and waited, wincing through it, before it finally faded. Sighing, she opened her eyes again, shifting the arm that wasn't trapped under Chuck's shoulders and neck.
Her face was tucked under his chin still, the same position she'd fallen asleep in, and apparently he'd fallen asleep just as quickly what with the way he hadn't budged either.
If she could just stay like this and fall back asleep, that'd be preferable. But she needed to at least try to get her arm out from underneath him before it was rendered completely useless. Losing an arm would make life a lot more difficult, she imagined. She didn't want to test it out.
So she oh so slowly tried to ease it out from under him. But then he shifted with a quiet grumble and rolled against her, tightening his embrace around her and stilling again.
God, it felt good, being wrapped up in him like this. She just needed her arm and she could fall back asleep lying on his chest, his arms so long around her, full of strength and warmth.
Sarah shifted her weight so that she was lying more on top of him now, and she moved her leg just slightly, only to feel something against her thigh. She knew immediately what that something was and she blushed. She felt ridiculous for blushing. She was well-aware that it wasn't something he had any control over, especially when he was sleeping. It was just something that happened to men…
She did her best to ignore it, trying to pull her arm out from under him one more time. But his embrace only tightened even more. Shit.
Moving her leg again, she felt it acutely, pressing into her inner thigh. And her traitorous body was in cahoots with her brain, reminding her of the night before, pinning him to the bed, having every intention of peeling him out of his many layers of clothing and losing themselves in one another again. Only that hadn't happened, because this guy was respectful, morally commendable, and frankly, just an incredibly good man. Sure, she'd said it while drunk the night before, but she meant it, too… it had turned her on even worse that he'd refused her because of her inebriated state. No chance would she have regretted it this morning—emotionally and mentally, never… and physically? Well, maybe she wouldn't feel quite so good this morning.
It was better to wait…
Only…
She needed her damn arm. And he was lying here now, underneath her, apparently ready considering what she could fell, pronounced against her. The only way she realized she was going to be able to get the blood back into that erstwhile limb of hers was if Chuck Bartowski woke up and moved.
Sarah hated this, she really did, but he'd understand. And she decided to be gentle about it. Just shaking him awake wouldn't do. It was cruel. And after the way he'd bent over backwards to protect her, take care of her, when she was exceptionally vulnerable last night?
So instead, she moved her face just so, and she pressed her mouth to his throat. Slowly. He drew in a deep breath, and as he let it out, she moved her lips to the spot right next to where she'd just kissed him. And then she moved it ever so slightly again. Dotting kisses on his neck, slow, warm kisses, her hand that wasn't pinned moving to his shoulder and squeezing in tandem with the kisses.
Chuck tensed up beneath her, and his hands moved over her back, rubbing circles, fingers digging into her muscles in a way that felt extremely good. She kissed a pattern up to the spot behind his earlobe and he hummed breathily. Even in the darkness of the room, she saw the corner of his mouth stretch into something of a smile, his eyes still shut.
He was awake, though. She felt it.
His breathing was uneven, his chest moving under hers. And he was pretending he wasn't awake. The stinker. Trying to get more kisses out of her. More touches.
Joke was on him, though.
She'd kiss and touch him whether he was asleep or awake.
Sarah pointedly pushed her thigh between his legs and slid up a little further on his body, moving her lips to his jaw, dragging her free hand up his neck, his cheek, playing with his ear…and finally, her fingers were in his deliciously soft, silky hair.
Chuck's eyes finally snapped open, their faces aligned, only the slightest strip of hazy moonlight shining through clouds entering her bedroom. She gave him only a moment for his eyes to adjust—it was just that he smiled that slight smile of his that she'd never seen him give anyone else but her—and she dove down to capture his mouth in a heated kiss.
Her comic book nerd embraced her back this time, his response ravenous in spite of being in a deep sleep not a minute earlier. Their bodies moved together, a synergy existing between them that was unstoppable, unfathomable.
Sarah grabbed whatever she could get hold of, and in this case it was the shirt he went to sleep in, and Chuck sat up just enough for her to yank it the rest of the way off. Her arm was alive, the tingles almost excruciating as she used her good hand to toss the shirt away.
She broke the kiss, sucking in a deep breath, sitting tightly in his lap as he peered up at her with a hunger that sent her into another galaxy, truly. And she subtly shook her right arm out a bit to the side, trying to get the feeling and blood back into it. Anything but the God damn tingles.
Chuck glanced at her arm, then winced, sending her an apologetic look, obviously having put two and two together, as observant as he was. She shook her head just slightly, not wanting him to feel bad, and then she lunged at him, kissing him some more, hugging his head against her.
When she rocked her hips into his, he groaned. She wanted him to feel her hands on him, and her fingers cascaded patterns up and down his back, massaging the muscle she found there.
Enough with the foreplay… she was ready for more. And she let him know with a whimper, thrusting herself into his lap again, biting his lip gently, pulling it away from his teeth, and letting it snap back into place again.
The look he gave her, like she was ever so slowly killing him with her touch, made her feel like she'd been dropkicked straight into the sun.
She put a hand on his chest then, and she pushed hard, causing his back to thump against the pillows with an almost comical fphewff as he breathed, "Whoa", his eyes wide.
Meeting his gaze, she grabbed the hem of her cami and began to pull it up her torso, revealing her hard abs and ribcage to him. But then his hands were on her arms, stopping her.
"W-Wait. Wait wait."
Sarah lowered her shirt, frowning. He looked unsure, even as a lusty purple maelström raged in his eyes.
It took a moment for her to figure it out. She framed his face with gentle hands, even as she ached for him everywhere, her whole body needing this, wanting all of him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. And she shook her head, meeting his gaze. "I'm not drunk anymore. That's gone. I slept it off. No hangover, either. Just a little bit of a headache b-but it's gone now." That wasn't entirely true, but it was almost nothing, a small twinge, not worth mentioning.
"You're sober?" he asked, panting.
"Yes," she insisted. And she was. Nor was she horribly hungover the way she feared she might be when she finally woke up this morning. All of that water Chuck and Ellie both made her drink had apparently paid off.
Or maybe she was just really good at holding her liquor.
Probably a little of both.
"You swear to me you know exactly what you're doing, that you've got no hangover and no still-drunk-the-morning-after-you-drank-so-much?"
"I swear. I swear, Chuck."
Please, anything to get this show on the road.
There was a long pause, an excruciating pause, both of them frozen.
"…Okay."
The moment the word left his lips, they both surged in to kiss, Sarah smiling against his lips, charmed and enamored, and even the thing she was pretending she never said last night while drunk was flowing through her as he finally let her take her top of.
The rest of their clothes followed.
And Sarah lost herself to his touch and the sensations it brought her.
}o{
She woke up again to light spilling into the room through the blinds they forgot to close the night before. It cut beautiful stripes over the covers she was snuggled underneath.
Sarah remembered immediately how she spent the early morning hours and a massive grin spread over her face, the cat who got the cream. Feeling a little smug, she turned and reached out for him, only to find the space he'd plopped onto once they'd tired one another out a few hours ago was empty.
She frowned a little bit, feeling the sheets where he'd been. The space wasn't cold exactly, which meant he was likely around somewhere. She crawled across the bed, groaning a little as her limbs protested, and she peered over the edge where she'd seen him put his shoes when she asked him to stay over with her the night before. There were his beat up Converse half tucked under her bed, his socks shoved inside. He was still here.
And still taking care of her, she realized as she lifted her gaze to look at the nightstand. Next to his watch that he'd taken off early this morning while they made love was the glass of water from the night before, only there was a new addition of two aspirin.
She beamed at the sight, her heart swelling. And in spite of not feeling too badly off from all of the drinking she and Ellie had done, she thought it wouldn't hurt. So she pushed herself to sit up, grabbing the water and the two aspirin, making quick work of them.
Sarah heard the creak of her bedroom door then and she turned to look even as she set the water down on the nightstand again.
There he was, all bedraggled and unshaven, his curls untamed, wearing the same boxers and T-shirt from last night. Only now she realized he was carrying a mug of something.
And she smelled…not just that delicious scent of ground and roasted coffee beans cooking in boiling water but something else…onion and butter? Ham? …Or was it bacon?
"What've you done?" she asked him, tilting her head and giving him a slow smirk.
"Me? What've I done?" He sent her an innocent look, approaching the bed. And as his eyes dropped to take her in, she belatedly discovered she'd fallen asleep after their earlier activities without even a shred of clothing on and was now laid completely bare to his gaze save for a bit of her legs and feet.
Sarah sent him a salacious look, in spite of being a little shy, and she grabbed the covers to yank them back over her body, tucking them under her arms modestly.
"I've still got marks on my back, missy. Nothin' too deep, mind you, but they're still there anyway." Sarah definitely blushed, her eyes going wide. Had she scratched him? She supposed she had. Wow. Had she done that before? She couldn't recall doing that before.
He gestured to his back with his free hand, not looking upset at all about it as he approached the bed and then thrusted the mug carefully across the mattress towards her. "Coffee?"
"You are still taking care of me, I see." She sent him a grateful look and took it. "Thank you. God, I do need this."
"Thought you might. Feeling okay?"
She hummed happily, sipping the hot coffee. Oh, it felt so good going down. And it tasted amazing. "Not a hangover in sight," she muttered, sipping more of the coffee after blowing on it a little.
"Wow. I'm seriously impressed. You and El were a trip last night. I was sure I'd have a hungover bookseller to nurse back to health this morning."
"I didn't dispel you of that notion earlier this morning?" she flirted, lifting an eyebrow as she took yet another sip. "Not sure someone with a hangover could've done everything that I did." Chuck had crawled onto the bed with her and was sitting on his haunches, knees bent in front of him, a very pleased look on his face. She decided to reach over and snap the band of his boxers against his hip.
Chuck gasped as if scandalized. "Excusez-moi…"
She giggled, moving the mug to the side, putting her hand on his chest, twisting the shirt in her fist, and pulling him in closer, not stopping until his lips bumped hers. She caught his mouth in a fiery kiss, letting go of his shirt and instead putting her hand on the back of his neck to trap his face against hers.
He whimpered, a reluctant sound as he broke the kiss. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze and he winced. "Only reason I'm not letting this proceed further is that I'm currently cooking—"
"Hell yeah, you are."
Chuck stopped and laughed. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, only a little embarrassed. "Sarah Walker, I do believe that you're….sooooort of a dork."
Her jaw fell into her lap. "A dork?! Me?! How dare you?! Get out of my bed, put your little cloth sneakers back on, and get the hell out of my home." He cracked up, not budging, and she giggled with him. "You asshole. Calling me a dork."
"That was so beautifully dorky, though. It's extremely attractive. Do you know how attracted I am to you already and then you have that gall to whip that dorkfest out; I'm basically putty in your hands now." He dove dramatically into her lap, his head pillowed on her thighs as he looked up at her, flinging his arms out. "Mold me to your whims, fair lady!" he exclaimed in a Shakespearean sounding accent.
Sarah giggled, something that came from deep in her chest. "A dork. Honestly. I admit, it was…not my usual smooth fare." She rolled her eyes. But then she laid her hand in his curls and bit her lip in excitement. "Are you actually cooking something?"
Chuck's brown eyes went big and he burst up from her lap and scrambled off of her bed. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit the bacon! I gotta turn the bacon!"
Looking like a cartoon character, his lanky form clambered across her bedroom and burst out into the hallway. She literally heard his bare feet scampering against her floors.
She waited for a few moments, a supremely happy grin on her face, and his voice finally wafted into her room from the kitchen: "We're okaaaay nothing's buuuurned!"
Laughing, she swung out of bed, set the coffee down for a moment, and pulled on a clean pair of underwear and an old LACC T-shirt. Taking a moment in the bathroom to relieve herself and admittedly brush out her hair to try to make herself look a bit more presentable, she padded back into her room and grabbed her robe, shrugging it on but not tying it, picking up her coffee, and wandering after him.
Sarah found herself gaping when she rounded the corner at the end of the hallway and emerged into her kitchen.
God, it was a whole production.
He was currently pouring whisked egg into a large pan that had chopped and cooked veggies in it, hence that onion smell. And the bacon was sizzling in the iron skillet she stole from her mom's place because it was allegedly her grandma's who'd passed before she was born, and her mom never cooked ever.
She doubted Emma had even noticed it was gone.
Pushing that melancholy thought away, Sarah came up behind Chuck, putting a hand on the small of his back, watching him go.
"I hope it's okay I rummaged your fridge. And that I opened that bacon that was in there. If you were saving it for something special, I'll go out and buy you more." He winced, pulling away to hurry to the sink, putting the bowl he'd used to whisk the eggs in the sink, turning on the water to flood the bowl, turning it off again, and hurrying back. "You want an omelet or a scramble? Speak now or forever hold your peace, because once I get to scrambling, we'll never be able to go back to omelet."
Sarah giggled. "You're so cute. You decide."
He sighed at her, clearly frustrated with her answer. "Fine. I'll scramble it because it's faster and I imagine you're hungry."
On a whim, she pushed onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I am. Thank you. And seriously, thank you. For this. You don't have to cook breakfast. You clearly did more than enough when you interrupted your night to come and pick me up from that bar and get me home safely last night."
He shrugged, furrowing his brow. "It feels good, taking care of you." He pursed his lips. "I hope that didn't seem patriarchal, like the big man coming to take care of his little lady…"
"It didn't," she giggled. "Don't worry. Maybe someday you'll let me take care of you like this?" She reached up to stroke the hair at the back of his head, watching him expertly scramble the egg in the pan, mixing it up with the veggies. It looked like onion and bell pepper. She forgot she even had bell peppers.
"Next time Morgan and I get schmammered at the clubs, you're the first person I'm calling, Sarah Walker."
She laughed lightly, not sure if she'd ever felt so much happiness flooding her system all at once. It felt wrong almost. Like at any moment, it'd be swept away. Biting her lip, trying to push that out of the forefront of her mind and instead letting herself enjoy this, she gave his curls a gentle, teasing tug. "Let me help with something."
"No."
She sent him an arched brow. "No? Wow."
"Just go back and lie down in bed. I'll let you know when it's ready."
"I have a whole store I need to open in a few hours. I can't really go back to b—"
"It's your store and your morning. You can do whatever you want," he interrupted. Then he nudged her with his hip. "Go. I got this. Pour yourself some more coffee and climb back into that bed."
That did sound kind of wonderful. Just a few more minutes of lazing. It was only a little after seven anyway. She had time before she had to open the bookstore. "Fine," she breathed. And she gave his jaw one more kiss, so that he knew she was grateful for all of this, before she poured more coffee and brushed past him with a squeeze of his arm, heading back to bed.
}o{
Chuck found Sarah buried in her bed's covers again when he wandered back down the hallway, the food finished cooking and sitting in the oven to keep warm. He wouldn't tell Sarah, but he also stuck the oven on low to warm up her apartment a little. It was still very cold without her heater on.
It was easy not to notice all cuddled up in her bed with her, covered by sheets, a thick duvet, and her body.
And it was even easier not to notice in the early morning hours, his world turning on its head as she took things to the next level. That was next level next level. And he found himself just standing in the middle of her bedroom, frozen like some kind of idiot, remembering just how next level it had been.
The sensations that cascaded through him, like she was a sorceress, shooting pleasure—pure ecstasy—out of her fingers and into his body everywhere she touched him.
"Breakfast ready?"
Chuck shook himself and cleared his throat, rushing the rest of the way to the bed and sitting on the edge of it next to her, trying to pretend he hadn't just been thinking about what happened between them a few hours ago. "Yep."
"Mmm, good. Then maybe we can climb back in here together for a few minutes? I do wanna open my store on time if I can help it…" She sent him a hopeful look. He hated to dash her hopes.
He hung his head and sighed. "I wish I could, that sounds amazing."
"Ah." Oh, the disappointment in her face, and the way she let him see it. No mask, no pretending. He melted. "Opening the shop by yourself this morning? You can use my shower and that handy-dandy overnight bag of yours maybe…"
He shook his fist to the heavens. "Ugh, noooo. I still haven't replaced the overnight bag from when I used it here the first time."
She giggled. "See, now that's just bad planning on your part," she teased.
Chuck laughed lightly. "You're right. I've let myself down."
"And me," she argued huffily, reaching out to coil her fingers around his, playing with him. "You've essentially robbed me of a few extra moments with you this morning."
That pout could launch a thousand ships, he decided. Helen of Troy who?
He beamed at her, and then he crawled down onto his stomach next to her, propped on his elbows and peering down into her face. "The truth is, even if I had replaced the overnight bag, it likely wouldn't have the suit I'm putting on post-shower. Nor would it have my shaving utensils I so desperately need." He rubbed his jaw and chin, pursing his lips.
She reached up to mimic his actions on his face and he sighed, leaning into her touch as she felt his stubble. "Hmmm. Yeah." She furrowed her brow then, tilting her head. "Suit? Are you actually gonna start wearing a suit to the comic book shop? I thought we were just flirting and being silly about that…"
"No, no," he chuckled. "I have a meeting. Ummm…a kind of important meeting. We're finalizing the purchase of the land that Cadabra wants to open that warehouse on."
Sarah's eyes popped and she hurriedly pushed herself to sit up. He crawled up beside her, grinning nervously. "Seriously? It's finalized today? You're buying it? V-Volkoff Industries is buying it?"
"We're buying it. Vivian sold the shit outta Proefrock and he's signing all the paperwork, we're transferring the dough to him. One step closer…"
She squealed quietly, a grin exploding onto her beautiful face, and she pounced at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. "Holy shit. It's happening. Oh my God."
"There's still a lot of work between today and cutting Cadabra out of Del Rey, so don't get too excited just yet. We have a board to convince for the whole rezoning situation. We need to really sell this community center. Hard."
Sarah pulled back, cupping his face, still excited in spite of his warning. "What do you need from me? How can I help?"
Chuck huffed, squeezing her waist in both hands. "Vivian wants to research each board member to see how we can essentially persuade them individually to be stoked on our community center. Things that are important to them, things they've brought up at meetings before, et cetera. It—"
"I'm on it."
He raised his eyebrows, and then he shook his head. "No, that wasn't me giving orders. You don't hafta—I mean, the V.I. lawyers could probably—"
But Sarah was shaking her head. "I've got Carina Miller, Chuck. She researched the shit outta you. The woman is a walking, talking research expert. She'll find out every single thing you need to know about them. Get me their names and she'll create full fuggin' dossiers for them."
He raised an eyebrow. "Did she…make a dossier for me?"
Sarah made a face, sighing. "Is that really the most important thing here?"
"Kind of," he mumbled.
She smirked and crawled out of bed around him. "Focus, Chuck. We have work to do." She paused as she stood, squeezing his shoulder. "Maybe someday I'll let you read your dossier," she snuck in, kissing the top of his head and crossing the room to the door.
"Hm." What she said struck him suddenly and he spun to watch her go. "Oh. She did make one…"
}o{
He didn't even mind that she'd been laughing at him, honestly.
He sort of deserved it for being so ridiculous and for not planning ahead. He admitted to himself at least that he wasn't great at planning ahead sometimes.
When Sarah saw him to the door, he had to explain to her that his suit he was wearing to the meeting wasn't at his LA apartment a few minutes away. Instead he had to make the drive to his Venice Beach house to get that particular suit. And he needed that particular suit because it was a pinstripe suit and Proefrock was a big fan of pinstripe suits, according to Vivian. Which meant throughout her meetings with the man, she and their lawyers had all donned pinstripe suits, and now it was Chuck's turn. Only he bought the suit in Venice Beach and left it in his closet there instead of bringing it back to his main residence because he was freaking lazy…
And Sarah Walker had stood there listening to the whole thing, grinning, her arms crossed, shaking her head at him. She'd laughed outright when he admitted his laziness.
He didn't mind. She could laugh. It was such a nice sound, the way it settled in his chest like a warm blanket…
"Mr. Bartowski?"
Chuck turned his focus to Vivian, smiling politely, reaching out his hand for the pen. "Thanks very much, Ms. McArthur. You know, Mr. Proefrock, I think you're going to feel really good about this transaction."
"All of those zeroes certainly help," the wealthy landowner chuckled, nudging one of his lawyers, a large fellow who didn't seem to do much more than scowl and tap his pen. Even now, he merely gave his client a long, annoyed look.
His other lawyer was much more talkative, a balding man with glasses and a ready smile. Mr. Samson. "Well, that particular plot of land has been a bit of a pain for Mr. Proefrock," he explained, glancing at his client. "Ya know? You think renting to the biggest, wealthiest corporation on the planet is a good bet, and then your car starts getting egged, people call your office and write you nasty emails, protests pop up."
"It's a lot," Proefrock grumbled, crossing his arms. "It's too much. It isn't worth the trouble. So if you lot wanna pay me to take that trouble off my hands, I'm not lookin' a gift horse in the mouth, see?"
"I'm so sorry this has been so much hassle for you, Mr. Proefrock," Vivian said, an impressively genuine tone to her voice. "You try to do right by people and they turn on you. Like that." She snapped her fingers.
Proefrock sat up, clearly pleased by her words. "That's it, exactly. Boy, you were smart to give the CEO position to this one, Bartowski. She's sharp."
"Don't I know it," Chuck agreed. Vivian McArthur was a God damn genius. She had this guy eating out of her hand. "And she's right. You never should've had to deal with any of this."
Nobody knew he was crossing his fingers under the roundtable they all sat at. This guy was exactly what Chuck never wanted to be. Ever.
"Well, you sign that, Bartowski, and it's your problem now. Not mine." He paused, giving them a curious look. "You guys have a plan for if these zoning board hacks decide not to approve what you wanna do?"
"We do," Vivian said smoothly. "Hopefully it won't come to that." She leaned in then and winked at him, making him blush. "But you don't really think we'd reveal all our secrets, do you, Mr. Proefrock?"
He let out a chuckle, giving her a toothy grin. "Nope. No, no. Because you're sharp." He winked back.
Chuck signed the paperwork then, and he passed it back to his lawyers who then slid it over to Leonard Proefrock's lawyers. The older man flipped through the paperwork, signing everywhere the lawyers pointed, and finally it was done and he handed them the stack and the pen.
"Well, that's that, then, eh fellas?" He pushed to his feet, but then he stopped and looked at Vivian. "And glorious lady."
She beamed at him as everyone else stood, and she oh so slowly raised to her full height. "It was wonderful to meet you, sir."
"Lenny," he said, reaching over to shake her hand. "Hope to see you again sometime, Ms. McArthur. You're a real gem."
"Oh, please. You charmer."
They laughed together. Chuck withheld the smirk threatening to show in his face as he came around to meet Proefrock. The shorter man patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck, Bartowski. Really. Taking on Cadabra? You wouldn't find me in their crosshairs. No how."
"We'll get this done. It's for the good of the community," he said. "We have no real beef with Cadabra."
"Oh, sure sure." Proefrock nodded. They shook hands again and he wiggled his fingers in a wave at everyone else.
The lawyers all shook hands, and the three men were gone, Paul Kassa—one of V.I.'s real estate lawyers—shut the door behind them, crossed his arms, turned back to everyone else, and grinned. "Well?"
Chuck pumped his arms over his head with a grin that was just as big. "Volkoff Industries is now the owner of one full square block in Del Rey, California."
"Three-quarters of a football field," Lance Foord spoke up from where he leaned on the edge of the table. He'd been Alexei's lawyer from the beginning of Volkoff Industries.
Vivian tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Depends on the pitch. They're a little smaller in America sometimes."
"Our football," Lance groused, making them all laugh. "Not your soccer."
"Ugh, boo."
But Chuck wasn't really paying attention to their ribbing, because Lance was holding the paperwork in his hand and it was final. The building Cadabra wanted to rent belonged to Volkoff Industries. And they hadn't handed in their first check yet, confirmed by Proefrock.
The contract Cadabra drew up with Proefrock also had an early termination clause written in, a sign Lance insisted meant they were cocky. Because it specifically allowed for the owner of the land on which the building they planned to rent stood was allowed to back out of the contract early if there were certain circumstances. One of those was insufficient use of the space.
But Paul insisted he'd overseen a situation before being hired as Volkoff Industries' lawyer in which a contract no longer stood as valid because one of the parties no longer had standing to be a part of said contract. And Proefrock no longer owned that square block.
It belonged to Volkoff Industries and Charles Bartowski now.
"Lemme just confirm this. I can do whatever the hell I want to the Cadabra contract once Proefrock forwards it to us, can't I?"
"My reading of the law says yep," Paul answered, nodding, beaming.
Lance shrugged. "I can't find any loopholes in what he's saying."
"So I could set it on fire and throw it into the Pacific?"
"Uh…"
"I could have Bolonia Grimes's chihuahua Chile take a big ol' dump on it?"
"Ew. Chuck…" Vivian breathed.
"I wouldn't suggest anything too, erm…" Paul winced. "Let's just keep it professional in case they're looking for a reason to sue."
"Ah, yes." Chuck nodded sagely. "Lining Vivian's cat's litter box with it would probably indicate some bad blood. Probably wouldn't look great in court. I see your point."
Paul chuckled.
"We'll make sure the contract changes hands within the next few days," Lance said then, gathering up their team of lawyers. "You two are the faces of V.I., however, and you're gonna need to sell this community center hard to that board next week. Think you're up to it?"
Chuck smirked at Vivian. "Viv's got this in the bag, Lance. C'mon. You see the way Proefrock floated outta here? This is gonna be our Christmas miracle." He held up his hand, earning a giggle and a high five.
The lawyers left the conference room in V.I.'s headquarters in downtown LA, and that meant Chuck was alone with Vivian McArthur finally. They turned to face one another and he shook his head at her in awe. "You seriously have been magnificent, my friend. This is… I dunno, it's reaching levels now where I don't know how I could ever repay you for falling in with this whole thing. All of it just to save a couple shops in a Del Rey shopping center. You could've told me to deal with it myself…"
"No, I couldn't have. Alexei's spirit would haunt me for the rest of my days if I did that," she argued, snorting. He smirked. "I can just hear him now, in my ear while I'm trying to sleep. 'Now, Vivian, my dear girl, don't forget the tenets of the Volkoff Family…"
They recited together in Alexei's voice: "Honor! Always honor!" And then they laughed together.
"I've gotta get to the shop," Chuck said then, moving in for a tight hug. "Thanks, Vivian. Seriously. I mean it. We're gonna make this community center something Alexei would be proud of."
"We?" She pulled out of the hug and thumped him on the chest. "I'm gonna let you take the reins on that bad boy. I have plenty on my plate. With this new acquisition approaching… We need to figure out how to fold Digipulse's entire workforce into our Volkoff Industries workforce without displacing any of our longtimers. I'm pulling my hair out over it."
Chuck huffed. "Yeah. I know. Let me know if you need anything, though, okay?"
"You got it."
He slumped against the desk a little. "We can do this, right?" He rubbed a hand up and down his pinstripe pants. "After all, Geoff Frezos basically has those city council mugs in his pocket. We need to find a way to get them out of that pocket."
Vivian didn't say anything for a moment, long enough that Chuck furrowed his brow and looked up at her. She was smirking, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. "What?"
"Nothing. You just called those city council members mugs while wearing a pinstripe three-piece suit and for a second, I felt like Humphrey Bogart was gonna walk through that door with a gun like 'Stick 'em up!'" she finished with a growl.
Chuck snorted and rolled his eyes. "You're a dweeb sometimes, you know that?"
"I wear that badge with honor. My boyfriend has a dweeb kink. He likes it when I wear fake glasses and a pocket protector. Really gets his motorboat revving—"
"Can you stop? Jesus Christ," he laughed, rocking forward. He hopped away from the table and turned to face her. "I can't with you. I'm trying to be serious here."
"I know, I know. I'm trying to put your fears to rest and ease the tension I see in your lanky-ass shoulders. We just bought the land the warehouse sits on. It's ours. You think I don't have a few tricks up my sleeve to sway those boys on the city council? We already have the two female council members interested in siding with us, considering they were already against the Cadabra move at that first city council meeting you lot went to. And boys are my specialty, Chuck." She winked.
"Uh huh," he drawled, sticking one hand in his pocket. "Well, I've got my best researcher working on those…boys," he said, smirking a little. He loved the idea of Carina plopping down at her laptop and smirking devilishly as she researched the hell out of each of those city council members. He'd sent Sarah the information she needed and she promised to recruit Carina Miller to the cause.
Her exact words in the text she sent him before this meeting? "Carina's going to attack this with the zeal of a Real Housewife of NJ going through a Gucci catalog."
It made him chuckle, and everyone had given him a strange look. Thankfully, he'd been rescued by Proefrock and his lawyers entering the room, shown in by Vivian's assistant.
"Best researcher? You don't want Lance's staffers doing it?"
"I don't want to step on her toes."
"Her?" Vivian raised an eyebrow. "What're you up to?"
"Um, I know somebody…" That clearly wasn't enough for the executive and she crossed her arms. "Look, I'm seeing someone—" Vivian gasped loudly, excitement lighting her green eyes. "—and her best friend from when she was a kid is a literary agent who drew up a whole friggin' dossier on me practically when she realized this…woman I'm seeing was, um…or, um, she thought she had a crush on me so she thought she'd check out my background and all that. Apparently, she's crackerjack."
Vivian narrowed her eyes. "Is that an American slang I haven't picked up yet?"
Chuck smirked, shaking his head. "Sorry, it's kind of old school. It means she's exceptional. She's not a licensed lawyer or anything, but maybe keeping this part on the down-low is a better idea anyway." He lowered his voice. "We don't want this looking like a PSYOP."
She giggled, moving closer. "It kind of is a PSYOP… That's a little bit cool, isn't it?"
"Oh, it's super cool. I feel super cool. Like, I'd be played by Robert Redford in a film."
"He's a little old to play you."
"And? Nobody has out-classy-spied Robert Redford in decades. That's just facts."
"Not…ooooh, I dunno, Bond?"
"Ugh, you have to pull in your British bullshit. I'm talking about an American spy, okay? Robert Redford." He made a fist and shook it, gritting his teeth. "Americaaaaa."
Vivian rolled her eyes. "That, right there? That's what people can't stand about Americans."
"You're really enjoying your life in America. And your American boyfriend."
She shoved at his head. "You American boys are weirdly attractive maybe. Microwaving your tea and dipping your chips in ketchup instead of vinegar…"
"I'm a ranch guy, muhself…"
"Ugh, barf."
He giggled.
Vivian pursed her lips then. "So you're seeing a literary agent?"
"No, no. Her best friend is a literary agent. The woman I'm seeing owns a bookstore."
The CEO of Volkoff Industries shifted to face him head-on, her jaw falling open. "Hold on, I looked up directions to your Ashcan Comics shop the other day because I'm planning a visit after we fuck Frezos sideways—" Chuck choked a little at that. "—and there was a bookstore right next to it, which honestly is a little bit more my flavor. Castle Sky or something…"
"Castle in the Air Bookstore. Yeeeaaah, that's…uh, that's hers."
"You're dating the woman who owns the bookstore next door to your comic book shop," she sang, clapping her hands together once and bending her knees. "Oh, that's too good. That's basically a plot to one of those Hallmark Channel movies. Ah ah! Don't you say a word. Those are masterpieces, especially at Christmastime."
"I wasn't gonna say anything," he laughed, holding his hands up. "We've been shoulder to shoulder battling this Cadabra thing and I guess…stuff happened."
"Ugh, glorious. Love in battle." Vivian held up her hand, swiping it through the air grandly. "Fighting off the corporate greed monster, hand in hand, only…oh, is your hand a little clammy, or is that…mine? Sparks flying…"
"Okay, I'm leaving. You're out of control."
They cracked up together and he backed to the door.
"When you're done hiding in the shadows from being connected to all this so that these Cadabra people don't put two and two together with you and that comic shop, I'd like to meet her," she said earnestly. "She must be formidable. Also, ugh, I really need a bookstore. Those places are so healing."
He made a teasingly disgruntled sound, thrusting his hands out as he reached the door to the conference room. "Not a comic book shop?"
"Darling, I am deeply, deeply proud of you for your comic book shop. I love that for you, truly. And also, I would always pick up a book over a comic. Ten times out of ten. I love you, though."
Chuck laughed and shrugged. "Yeah, I know. I'll introduce you two sometime soon."
"Sooner rather than later, please. I want to see the girl who makes you glow like that."
"Glow? Like I'm pregnant?"
Vivian threw her head back with a laugh. "Pregnant with utter happiness!" she announced, making him snort and roll his eyes. "I've never seen you all blushy and gushy like this, and I've seen you talk about women before. That's all I mean."
"Yeah well… This one is special. I'm doing my best not to fuck it up. It's, uh, new still."
She gave him a reproving look. "You're a catch, Chuck Bartowski. Just remember that. Exactly as you are, you're a catch. I imagine it'd take a lot to send her running for the hills."
"I hope so."
She smiled and winked.
They said their goodbyes, and Chuck hurried out of the conference room, making a beeline for the elevator.
Because he knew the first person he wanted to tell now that the deal was done, and they were proceeding to the next step. And that person was running a bookstore at the Victoria Shopping Center in Del Rey.
A/N: They own the land! What's next?
I'd love it if you could leave a review and let me know what y'all are thinking. Thank you! More soon.
-SC