The Nerd Versus the P.I. Family

By Steampunk . Chuckster

A/N: And so this fic is back. After a month. Sorry. I have too many things to work on. And I have to go where the muse guides me or I'd never get anything written or updated ever again. Thanks for sticking around. Enjoy!

Summary: Sarah Walker has uprooted her life, leaving her job with the LAPD and going it alone as a private investigator, all in the hopes it provides her with less dangerous stakes and a schedule she can control so that she can handle her most important job, raising her toddler, a bit easier. But when the single parent thinks her computer might've been targeted by a criminal, she has to request help from the unlikeliest of sources: The Buy More Nerd Herd.

Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK, I do not own its characters, I am not making money from posting this.

It wasn't just about Sarah, it was about Max, too.

Or at least, it would eventually get to a point where it was about the both of them. For now, he supposed it was mostly about Sarah. When they could find the time to see each other again, at least. He was learning about her, about what made her tick. He was telling her about himself. They were getting to know one another.

But he was constantly trying to remind himself that Max was going to come into play. If not in the third or fourth dates, then in the fifth, the sixth, seventh…eventually. Because he was Sarah's life.

He was dating Sarah, but he was going to have to get to know Max too. He was going to have to charm the two and a half year old too.

Chuck wasn't sure how charming it was to just show up unannounced, either. Without even texting or calling first. But it had been five days since their second date and he really just wanted to see her. Even if it meant showing up at her agency and asking if she wanted to grab a bite to eat with him.

He stepped off of the elevator and stopped so suddenly the doors nearly caught his jacket as they closed. He hopped forward and glared at them for a moment, then turned back, fixing his jacket over his button-up, fixing the collar, zipping the jacket up, scoffing at himself and unzipping it again, tugging on it a little, and then running a hand down his front.

This was probably a mistake.

And yet…

His right foot stepped forward, and then his left foot, his right foot again, then left, right, left, right…Before he knew it, he'd reached her hallway.

Ellie's words rang in his ears.

Not the part about being flexible.

But when she said to let her know he liked her by being what she needed, to be there when she needed somebody to be there, that had stuck in his head more than anything else.

Maybe today she needed a break from her work. Or a friendly face. Or lunch. He could do any of those things.

Or maybe he was interrupting her in the middle of her workday and she'd be annoyed. Well, then…he could be the guy she needed in that situation too. He could…leave.

Feeling both like an idiot, and also filled with some kind of strange adrenaline, he approached the outer door to her agency, those words printed on the door: WALKER AGENCY. He remembered when he thought this was some kind of talent agency.

And he was struck again by just how fucking radical Sarah Walker was. Sarah Walker, private investigator, private eye, gumshoe…

He grabbed the door handle and turned it, opening the door, stepping inside. The door creaked quietly. The light was on in the small waiting room, and the door to her office was slightly ajar, the light on in there as well.

And she must've heard him come in, because he heard her voice—God, that voice—call out from her personal office. "Hi, welcome to Walker Agency, uh…Come on through…" He heard her lower her voice, whispering something.

As he closed the distance and pushed the office door open, he was met with the sight of Sarah Walker leaning down over her two year old son, trying to help him put his blocks back into a bucket as he quietly sang, "Come fruuu come fruuu come frruuuuuuuuu."

Sarah straightened up, her back to Chuck, and she spun to face him, abject apology in her face. But before she could voice it, her eyes met his. They widened for a moment, and then she smiled, her shoulders sagging in what seemed like relief. "Oh, it's you."

"Yeah, hi. My, um, my cat's caught in a tree outside. Is that the sort of thing you handle?"

She laughed. "Um, no. But I can maybe scrounge up a firefighter or something."

"Dangit."

"DANGIT!" Max yelled, clicking two of his blocks together. He was looking at Chuck with wide blue eyes, a shy look on his face, even as he'd copied Chuck's curse. Oops. Shit.

Chuck sent Sarah an apologetic look and slapped a hand over his mouth as she giggled. She just shrugged, as if saying what can ya do? And then she stepped in close and grabbed his hand. "Come in. I freaked out a little that it was a potential client. It's always kind of a risk having him here," she said, lowering her voice as she tugged Chuck further into the room. "It isn't exactly the, um, image of a P.I. folks expect. A two year old playing on a rainbow colored mat on the floor of the office."

"Really, though. No cigar sitting in an ashtray (still smoking), no half-eaten sandwich with nothing on it but one slice of cheese and one slice of bologna, no glass with a finger of whiskey, no Venetian blinds, no gun holes in the carpet…you don't even have a fan on in here, with the little white ribbon flapping. Like, working AC? What's with that? What kind of P.I. are you?"

Sarah rolled her eyes at him, but giggled anyway.

Chuck turned and gave Max a wave, wiggling his fingers a little when the boy looked up at him through his eyelashes. "Hi, Max. I dunno if you remember me. My name's Chuck. I took your mom out to dinner and, um, I brought you stickers."

He could feel Sarah's eyes on him and he was careful to keep his gaze on Max instead.

The blue-eyed, brown haired toddler just folded his hands together where he was kneeling and gave a shy shrug, and then he crawled to his bucket, grabbed it by the top and pulled at it with a quiet grunt until he had it turned enough that they could all see the other side. There Chuck spotted a snake sticker, a monkey sticker, a meerkat, and a frog.

"There are your stickers," Sarah said warmly.

"Heeeeeey, you do remember me!" Chuck beamed, pointing as he sank down into a crouch. "Oh, man. I gotta say, you couldn't have picked a cooler place to stick 'em. That's perfect."

Max just smiled proudly. "Dey babysi' my bocks when I'not…heeoo."

Chuck narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out exactly what he'd just said. Context helped him out a bit, though. The stickers were safeguarding his blocks when he wasn't here. He got it. They were block babysitters. "Well, of course they do. They know those blocks are important, right?"

"Mmmhmm!" The little boy nodded vigorously. "The s'ake is gonna bite 'em." He poked the snake sticker.

"Oh, yeah. Nobody smart would dare to mess with your blocks. Who wants to get a snake bite? Not me."

Max moved to sit on his backside and took a blue block out, turning it over in his hands and staring at it hard, still apparently feeling shy, his lips pursed.

Chuck decided not to push it, standing up to his full height with a grunt and turning to face the little boy's mom. "Hi."

She sighed. "Hi."

Sarah was leaning back on the edge of her desk in a brown pencil skirt that went to just above her knees, a matching brown blazer, a black blouse underneath, and black pumps. Her hair fell down around her shoulders in waves. Said shoulders were pulled up to her ears as she leaned back with her palms on the desk. She tilted her head in curiosity. "What're you doin' here?"

Chuck cleared his throat and pointed at the door behind him by throwing his thumb over his shoulder, and then he lowered both hands in front of him and tugged at his jacket. "Uh, well? We haven't really been able to match up our schedules for a few days and I just…wanted to say hi. That's all."

She gave him a peculiar look.

"This was probably a bit much, huh? I shouldn't have just shown up without giving you some notice. You're in here probably working on that case, you know? Working your aaa—erm, butt off." He winced as she smirked. "I might've crossed a line. I just—"

"You haven't," she said quickly then, cutting him off. She sighed again, pushing off of her desk and running her hands down the front of her skirt to straighten it a bit. "I'm…glad you're here."

"That…sounded enthusiastic," he teased as she halted a bit.

Giggling, she shook her head and rolled her eyes, this time at herself. "I'm sorry. I actually am really glad to see you. I'm just tired. And the case is getting…" She gave him a dubious look. "I suppose it's vague enough if I just tell you that the more we learn about all of this, the less we know what in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is even fuckin' going on."

Chuck's eyes widened and she gave him a questioning look, before her eyes widened too, and she groaned, turning to look down at her kid. But as Chuck glanced at him, he seemed to be in his own world, chattering at the horse he was holding, making it gallop along the cushions of the couch. Sarah gave Chuck a helpless shrug.

"He's not listening, anyway. I luck out like that sometimes, but it's really hard not to slip on days like today."

Chuck inched a bit closer and turned his head so that he could listen better. Max had started doing something that sounded a little bit like singing, or maybe like…Gregorian chanting. "He singing?" he asked Sarah quietly.

"He's going through a phase, yeah. I just find him walking around singing every so often." She blew a bit of hair out of her face. "Nothing I can do about it."

"It's cute. What song is he singing?" He wasn't sure they were words.

"Nothing, really. He doesn't know much more than the stuff his grandma sings him. And me, on occasion. He's just making up words."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Kids are so cool."

She giggled and reached out to twist her fingers in the flap of his jacket, giving it a bit of a tug. The look in her eyes was a little flirtatious, he thought, and he had a feeling a very dumb-looking smile stretched over his face as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "So you just dropped in to say hi, huh?"

Chuck shrugged. "Yeah, I just wanted to see you, I guess. Hope that's okay." He narrowed his eyes. "I know I really should've at least texted, if not called. That would've been the polite thing to do."

Sarah pursed her lips and stood to her full height, which naturally moved her closer to him. "It's okay, Chuck. Really. Worse comes to worst, you end up waiting out there with the coffee maker for a bit while I finish with a client or something."

"That's true. I just mean, because…well, you know, we've only been on two dates. I'm not sure I've earned showing-up-unannounced privileges just yet."

Raising her eyebrow, she broke his gaze to glance over her shoulder and check on her son for a split second. Chuck also looked, seeing that Max was hunched over the bucket, one hand elbow deep in the blocks as if he was trying to get a particular block out, concentration in his face.

And then Sarah turned to look back at Chuck again and he met her gaze once more.

"I seem to remember you showing up unannounced before we even went on one date."

There was that flirtation again. He was not looking a gift horse in the mouth on this one. Nope. He was going to bask in it.

"That was different. I did that for business purposes. It was for business." He crossed his arms at his chest.

"Was it, though?" she asked dubiously, a spark of amusement in her blue eyes.

He was absolutely sure that if he tried it, she'd see right through him, so he sighed and dropped his arms to his side. "Nope."

She looked a little surprised that he'd outright admitted it, and so easily, too. And then a warm smile spread over her face.

"I mean, sort of? It was, like, the tail end of business, I guess you could say?" He tilted his head thoughtfully. "But in the spirit of full honesty, it was mostly just a need to see that you were prepared in case some other piece of sh—shoe…mud…" He pressed his lips together and winced at Sarah as she cracked up at his attempt at cleaning up his near-curse. "Er, in case someone else tried to hack into your system." He cleared his throat.

"So what you're saying is you showed up unannounced to protect me," she said smoothly, still grinning. "That's a lot better than it being for business reasons."

Max toddled in between them then, and Chuck took a step back to make room for him, watching with a furrowed brow as the two year old methodically set his horse on the shelf of one of Sarah's bookcases. He then went back, picked up two blocks, and walked back again to set them beside the horse, one on each side. Then he went back a third time.

"What, uh, what are you doin' there, Max?"

"He cold so I make him h-howz," he explained, walking up to her desk then and going on his tiptoes, reaching up for something.

Chuck exchanged a look with Sarah, and he could see she was trying to figure out what her son was looking for. He thought he had an idea, so he moved to the desk, reached around her, and snagged a tissue from the box Max couldn't get his hand up high enough to get on his own. Then he bowed at the waist and presented it to the toddler with no small amount of flourish.

"I do believe this is what you're after, sir," he said in a crisp English accent.

Max took it and giggled, wrinkling the tissue in his fists. He took a step back with a grin on his face. "What dat?"

"What?"

"You did wif ya talking. I's funnyyy."

"Your accent," Sarah explained, smiling wide. "I think he means the accent you used."

"Ah. It's a terrible accent," he chuckled, straightening to his full height. "The worst English accent you'll ever hear. Unless you watch Keanu Reeves in Dracula. Mine isn't that bad."

Sarah laughed. "Max, he was pretending to be someone from England."

"Whe' dat?"

"It's a country on the other side of a big ol' ocean," Chuck explained.

"Okay." Max took his tissue and walked it over to his horse house, very meticulously smoothing it out against the shelf to take out the wrinkles, before he put it on top of the horse and blocks, balancing it there. "Da's da woof."

Chuck gave Sarah a questioning look.

"Roof," she explained. "He gave the house a roof."

"Oh. Oh, that's kind of genius. Giving the house a roof. In case it rains in here." Chuck stuck his hand out and looked up at the ceiling. "You never know. Weirder things have happened."

"Yeah!" Max exclaimed. "Weeder…tings hab happen."

Chuck thrusted both of his hands out towards him, palms up, as if saying See?

Sarah giggled and shook her head.

"Hey, you know, it's the middle of the day," he said then, shuffling his feet a little. "I was thinking…you know…maybe if you're hungry or something, we could grab a bite?" He wrinkled his nose and shrugged hopefully.

She beamed at him, opening her mouth to answer, but then she shut it again and sighed tiredly. "I wish."

"That means…no, usually."

"It isn't a no-I-don't-want-to. It's a no-I-can't." She huffed. "I'm sorry. I really want to. I just have so many freaking files to go through. I'm trying to see if anything jumps out at me. And I have to turn in this report to Carina by the end of the day. I barely have anything to report. All this investigating I'm doing, and nothing's coming from it. It's so frustrating."

Chuck nibbled on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Well, I understand, you not wanting to take the time to go anywhere."

"It isn't just the time it'd take to go, it's that…Well, Max. It's always longer than you think with a toddler in tow."

"Ah. Of course." He nodded. He felt like an asshole for not thinking of the fact that Max would be going with them. Of course he'd be going with them. He was here. What were they gonna do, have a nice lunch and leave the two and a half year old in the P.I.'s office? Was he gonna answer the phone for his mom while she was gone and take messages like a little secretary? God, he felt like such a jerk.

"I'm so sorry," she moaned quietly. "Getting out of here and eating lunch with a sweet nerd sounds so nice right now."

"A sweet nerd?" he chuckled. "Gee, thanks."

"I mean that in a purely positive way," she giggled.

An idea struck him then. "I'll go get food and bring it back. For all three of us."

"I wan' ceweal!"

There was Max, standing at Chuck's feet, hopping a little.

"Max," his mom reprimanded, and the two year old pulled back a little, wide-eyed, his pudgy hand immediately popping into his mouth shyly. "Chuck is being very nice, offering to buy us food and bring it back for us. You don't get to make demands."

"I no make emans."

"You just did." Sarah looked at Chuck then and smiled. "That's so sweet of you to offer, Chuck, but I can't let you do that for—"

"Why?"

"Why, Mommy? He can bing ceweal."

"He isn't bringing you cereal, Max. And you've been snacking on your Cheerios all morning. Why do you want more cereal?"

"It good, Mommy." He shrugged.

Chuck covered his mouth with a hand, trying not to encourage the kid so as not to earn his mother's ire. Sarah sent him a dubious look anyway and he winced. "Sorry, it's just—He's right. Cereal's really good."

"It da best!"

Yeah, Chuck was really liking this kid a lot.

He turned to Sarah again. "Look, it's no bother. Actually, I wanna do it. You've got all this work piled up and you're trying to handle that, Max is busy building a house for his horse—"

"Yeah, I weeealllyyyy busy."

Chuck couldn't stop the giggle if he tried, gesturing to Max. "See? Super busy." Sarah smiled, her eyes bright as she met his gaze. "I've got nothin' but time today." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Let me do this for you."

He didn't know if it was what he'd said, or how he'd said it, but as Max went back to fix the roof over his horse again, Sarah stepped up against Chuck and peered up into his face, before she moved onto her tiptoes to kiss him lightly, slowly, at the corner of his lips. He immediately wanted more, but he wasn't going to take it, especially not knowing the protocol in front of her toddler son.

But he also took the kiss as a yes, so he smiled a bit cheekily. "What're you feeling like, Sarah? Fast food? Sandwiches? Mexican? Italian? Greek? I know a place that makes incredible grinders."

"S'a guy-doo?"

"A grinder," Chuck explained as the boy went to his mother and wrapped his arms around her leg, pressing his cheek against it. Her hand fell naturally to his hair, smoothing her fingers over it lovingly. "It's…kind of like a sandwich on long, skinny bread."

"Is looonnnng?"

"Yep."

"An' skinnyyy?"

"Mhm."

"Like a s'ake? Is it a s'ake sanwit?"

Chuck snorted, and then he crouched down to Max's eye level, making the boy turn his face shyly into his mom's leg. "Not a snake sandwich, no. Not as slithery. Or scale-y. Usually people put meat and cheese and veggies on it. Do you like salami?" He glanced up at Sarah. "Do you like salami?"

"Yeah," she said, shrugging. "And he at least tries everything."

"Okay, they've got a salami and capicola grinder that's incredible. Lettuce, tomato, a little provolone."

"Pooo'vadunnnnn," Max sang against his mom's leg.

Chuck giggled again, then looked at Sarah. "You game?"

She smirked. "Yeah, I'm game. But maybe just…salami for this one? Capicola is delicious but maybe a little…spicy for him. At this stage. Just in case. I don't wanna waste food."

Chuck nodded in understanding. "Right. Got it."

"Mommy, I wan' da spiceee sanwit."

"Trust me, I don't think you do."

"Yeah, I do."

"Max, remember when Grandpa let you taste the pepperoncini he was eating and you cried and said your lips were hurting?"

"No! I din' do dat, Mommy!" he whined, his eyes welling up. He seemed almost embarrassed.

"No, it's okay," she chuckled, crouching down and wrapping him up in a hug. "They hurt my lips too. But I think just this time, we're going to eat the salami by itself, okay? If you want to taste the capicola that's on my sandwich, you can, okay? Deal?"

He gave off a small sniffle and nodded, pressing his knuckles to his lips, seemingly assuaged for now.

Orders obtained a few minutes later, Chuck left the office behind, relieved to have bought himself a bit more time in spite of how obviously busy Sarah was with her case. He had Ellie's advice ringing in his ears. He would be what Sarah needed right now.

And if that meant being the food delivery guy, he'd do it gladly.

}o{

Sarah was neck deep in files when Chuck returned, and she noticed the acute flutter in her ribcage upon seeing him walk into the outer office with two large bags dangling from one hand, and a drink holder from the other.

"I'm back. And I bear good tidings."

Max looked up from his blocks, back on the floor again on his mat, this time lying on his stomach and kicking his feet with soft little thumps of his shoes hitting the mat. "You bing me a beaaahh?"

Chuck stopped in the doorway of her office, halfway in the waiting room still. "Uh. N-No, I should…probably watch how I phrase things, huh? I didn't bring a bear. I bear good tidings means that I've got…good things I'm bringing."

"Ohhh. Like ceweal?"

Thankfully, Chuck laughed as he walked all the way in. "Well, listen, Max. I was going to get cereal, but then I thought, aw man, there are so many different kinds of cereal! What if I get the wrong kind? You know? So I ended up just bringing you a sandwich with salami on it. I hope that's okay."

"Oh." Max blinked. "Dat make sense."

He went back to his blocks.

The perplexed look on Chuck's face was so cute and funny that she had to laugh at him. When he raised the look to her, she just shrugged. "Welcome to my life," she muttered.

He smiled. "Where shall I put this?"

"Oh. Shoot, here. Let me move all of my junk." She scrambled up to her feet, deciding to shut the file she was looking at and push it aside. And then she did her best to straighten her desk, piling things and pulling them towards her to make some space at the end of the desk. "That enough room?"

"It'll do."

As he set everything down, she frowned in question at the two small cups with lids beside the two larger cups she assumed were the sodas she and Chuck were drinking.

"Oh. Right. They only had apple juice and I thought he'd like juice. But the parents of the kids I used to babysit didn't let their kids have juice because it was too much sugar, and I thought there was a chance you might be the same, so I got water, too. So at least he has something to drink, you know? If he can't drink the juice."

Sarah gave him a long look as he set the holder down and carefully pulled each drink out.

"Root beer for me, 'cause I'm a sadist." She giggled at that. "Iced tea for you. Juice and water for Max…" She realized belatedly that a bit of an awkward silence developed between them as he just stood there. "Can-Can he have the juice or…I mean, I can drink it if…"

"Oh. Yeah. No, he drinks juice. Not all the time, but I let him have it here and there. He likes apple. Thank you. That was…thoughtful."

"Hey, sure. No problem."

Sarah decided that busying herself was the best option in this scenario, as she found herself floundering a little bit. She knew she shouldn't be. This was the same man who'd turned the car around on their first date because she found Max's beloved toy in her purse, the one her son needed to be able to fall asleep peacefully. She should be prepared for Chuck's thoughtfulness, the unpracticed kindness. But she just couldn't wrap her mind around it.

She poured the juice out of the styrofoam cup into one of Max's sippy cups she kept in her giant bag, the first purchase she and her mom made when she went baby shopping. Her mom had told her she'd feel like Mary Poppins, and she was right. The things she managed to fit in the bag, she did feel like Mary Poppins sometimes.

"Here's your apple juice, bud. Remember what to say to Chuck for bringing it?…" Max looked up shyly and squirmed. "Can you say thank you?" she prompted.

Max blinked up at her, then up at Chuck. "Tank'oo Chuck." He pulled it up to his mouth with both hands and tilted his whole body back to sip his juice and let out a "Mmmmmm!", which made Chuck giggle.

"I like a man who does things with his whole body like that. Go all in. That's passion right there. Lust for life."

Sarah laughed. "Yeah, I'd love to see you drink your root beer like that."

"I, uh, I don't have a cool cup like his. I'd spill it all over your office and that'd be a good way to ensure no third date. Or fourth. Or fifth."

She raised her eyebrow and smirked, before she swept her gaze around the room to figure out how they could possibly pull off eating this food in her office.

But then Max went over to his mat and kicked his blocks, shoved them with one hand, the juice sloshing around safely in his no-spill cup, clearing his mat, before he sat with his legs splayed out and very carefully set the cup down with both hands right between his legs.

Maybe he was on to something.

And Chuck must've had the same thought because he chirped, "Well, all right. I'll bring the sandwiches, you get the drinks?" He turned to look at her with wide eyes and they exchanged a chuckle as she nodded.

"Thank you for sharing your space with us, buddy," she said to Max. "And for cleaning it up so we can sit here too."

"Uh huh." He nodded, waiting expectantly for his lunch.

Within minutes, the three of them were sitting on Max's play mat, sandwiches in hand, a rubber plate under Max's food, even though Sarah was sure it'd still end up getting oil, lettuce, and bits of bread all over his mat. Was the thing even washable? She didn't know. She'd figure it out later.

Buying a new one was absolutely worth this.

Because Chuck took a giant bite out of his sandwich, his legs crossed under him like a little boy, and he made a monster growling sound, his brown eyes fastened on her son. And her son jutted his chin out with a gleeful laugh, starting to seem a little more at ease with this stranger in their midst. At the very least, he thought he was funny.

So worth it.

She was trying to be careful about this, though. She was trying to tiptoe, at least a little, keeping her guard up. And she knew it wasn't fair to Chuck. He was obviously a good man. He'd more than proven that so far. But she also had to keep her priorities straight. Not only did she have Max to take care of, she was deeply embroiled in a case that had a lot of loose ends, a case that had already gotten her computer hacked by someone they still hadn't found.

Bringing someone new into her life now felt like a mistake. And she was scared.

But it also felt good stepping away from reading file after file after file of utter trash, human depravity and general awfulness, to sit here and take a deep breath and enjoy a good sandwich, giggling at the antics of a man who had so far cared enough not to be scared away by her admitted flakiness and inconsistent mess of a schedule.

He felt so good to be around, but she wanted to be careful still. And she didn't want him to feel like he was being used, either. She wanted this to continue. She loved that he'd wanted to see her and he'd made it work like this, with Max here, in spite of probably thinking he'd find her here working alone.

Maybe it was just the case that was causing her to pull back so much. She hadn't been quite this cautious with other men. And she was trying to figure that out when Max held up a piece of salami he'd taken from his sandwich, a sandwich that was now absolutely massacred in a pile on his plate, she realized, and put it over his eye.

"Mommy, I'm a monstooooaaahhhh! BOOOOO! 'Alam monstoooah!" He giggled manically.

"Max." She was trying so hard to be a good parent and tell him that putting food on his face was impolite. And she was a little embarrassed. But…it was also just objectively funny. She couldn't stop the giggle from bubbling up.

Luckily, Chuck didn't seem offended at all. Instead, he cracked up, which only egged Max on.

Now a strip of lettuce was over his lip.

"Mommy, a moostask!"

Sarah full-on laughed, rocking forward. She hadn't heard the way he said mustache before and it killed her. She didn't even know he knew the word. "Max, please take the food off of your face. It's funny, but it's also impolite. You realize Grandma would have a heart attack if she saw you doing this?"

But he just kept giggling with the salami over his eye and the lettuce that was slipping no matter how many times he tried to fix it.

Sarah huffed and rolled her eyes, grabbing a napkin and reaching over to take the food off of her son's face. "Close your eyes. I have to get this oil off of your face now."

Chuck was trying to stifle his laughter, his mouth full of food. "Max, you have to eat the food, not wear it," he mumbled around the food.

"I hab a tomato haaaaat!" Max yelled, trying to put a tomato on his head. Sarah acted fast though, snagging it as he kept snickering.

"Stop encouraging this," she said through her teeth at Chuck, a smile still on her face, hoping he didn't feel too reprimanded.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." He held up his free hand. "I take full responsibility."

Giggling, she finished wiping her son's face. "Okay, now eat it. Put it in your mouth, chew it, and swallow it. Like a big boy. Can you do that for Mommy?"

"Okaayyyy," he grumbled, taking a piece of salami and biting it before plopping it back down and picking up his cup with his oily fingers to drink.

After twenty minutes of sitting and eating, Sarah noticed a bit of tentativeness in the way Chuck approached her son as he spoke to him, like he was being extra careful, not quite sure what to say or how to say it. And Max was being careful back. She would catch her son peeking at the older man, the much taller man, all scrunched up on the floor to eat lunch with them, as if he was trying to figure out what he was, and mostly, what he was doing here.

Max Walker was an inherently kind and sweet little boy. But he was also her son. And he approached things with a sense of care, just like she did. He had guards that he raised sometimes. She'd inadvertently shown him how, she knew. And she had regrets about it.

So far, he'd done that with every man she'd dated. Without meanness. Without bitterness or jealousy. It was just…caution.

She could see the caution even as she got the feeling that he liked Chuck.

And she related so hard to her son in that moment.

That need not to let someone too close, and she was sure he didn't understand enough yet for it to be about any sort of fear of getting hurt. That was her thing. And she hoped as he grew up that he was able to mold his own way of looking at the world that wasn't as dysfunctional as her way.

"Do you not like the bread?" Chuck asked, pointing at Max's plate. Max had eaten the meat and the cheese, a lot of the lettuce, the tomato, but he hadn't eaten much of the bread.

"Eating a sandwich the right way isn't something he's really gotten to just yet." She picked up the third of the sandwich she had left and took a normal bite. "Like this," she said, chewing.

"Ah, of course. The picking at food phase. You should try the bread, though. It's so good. Nice and flaky on the outside…" He picked a flake off and popped it into his mouth. "And then the inside is light and airy. Like eating a cloud." He demonstrated picking some of the inside of the bread and eating it. "Tasty cloud. Mmmm!"

"A c'oud?!" Max made a dubious face. "Like in da skyee?"

"Yep!"

"How you get da c'oud out da skyee?"

It looked like he stumped Chuck with that one, causing the man to have to change tack. She felt a little mean, just sitting by and letting him get out of this hole himself, but she was more than interested to see how he handled it.

"Uh… Okay, full disclosure, it isn't an actual cloud. It just tastes and feels like a cloud when you put it in your mouth."

"You eat c'oud a'fore?"

"Um, no, I mean, I don't think I've ever eaten a cloud. Well! I've been in the mountains that are high enough that you're technically walking through clouds and I was breathing them in, does that count?"

Max looked confused and Chuck cleared his throat.

"Um… Let me try this again. The bread is very soft and light and fluffy. End of sentence." Sarah giggled as Chuck winced in her direction. "But let me show you. Look. Can I pick up your bread? Is that okay?"

Max nodded shyly and slid from where he was kneeling on his calves to eat, onto his backside, and just watched as Chuck gently reached over to pick at the inside of the grinder roll. He then offered it to Max.

"Eat that. Tell me what you think."

Wrinkling his nose, the two and a half year old took it and put it in his mouth. They waited, watching him smack his lips and swallow. And then he blinked at Sarah. "Mommy, I jus' a'ya c'oud!"

She laughed. "Wow, Max! You ate a cloud! That's so cool!"

"It tas' good! I yike to eat c'ouds!"

Chuck narrowed his eyes, seemingly unsure of how to take Max's reception, and then he just shrugged and chuckled. "I like to eat clouds too!"

"Mommy, you ea' c'ouds wif me."

Sarah opened her sandwich and showed her son the "cloud" there. "I am eating the clouds. But I'm eating them with my meat too." But she'd made a slight miscalculation, it seemed, because Max saw the capicola sitting there on the bread and his eyes widened. "What dis?" He poked it.

"That's the spicy meat, sweetie. I don't think you want—"

"I 'anna t'wy! I din' get any! I on'y hab alam!"

"Salami," Sarah corrected patiently. And she broke off a little piece of the capicola. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Should we get that juice ready?" Chuck mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

She smirked. "Yep."

And they watched as Max put it in his mouth.

He just smacked his lips with a "MMMM!"

And she supposed she didn't know crap about her own kid.

A/N: Children are so fascinating. Their brains do the weirdest things. I will be exploring this to its fullest potential in this fic. Hahaha! Thanks for reading, and I would really, really, really appreciate it if you folks reviewed. That'd mean a lot. Thank you!

-SC