The Nerd Versus the P.I. Family
By Steampunk . Chuckster
A/N: To those of you who were supportive after last chapter's author's note, I want to say that it helped me a lot. And to the men who were supportive after that author's note, people (not just men but mostly men) receive messages about abortion from other men with a lot less vitriol than they do from women, which is why we need your vocal allyship. I deleted quite a few guests who saw fit to call me a murderer, as if any one of you knows me or my story. Yikes. Which I highly doubt y'all would do to a man who posted the same note that I did. And to those who decided to stop reviewing (but continue to read because I know you're still heeeere), I just want to say: Ta. See ya. Bye. (waves)
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.
Chuck glanced up from the pad Thai he was eating, noodles hanging from his mouth as he realized Morgan was staring at him funny. He cut the noodles with his chopsticks and slurped them into his mouth, chewing as he stared back. "M'what?" he asked, his mouth full.
Morgan shook himself. "Dude, I'm just picturing you as a dad."
He choked, thumping himself on the chest, a pepper flake going down sideways. He grabbed his Arizona tea and took a few long gulps, struggling to get his bearings. "W-What? Ahem." He coughed again. "Excuse me?"
"Total mindfuck, man."
"Can you not say shit like that, Morgan?" He widened his eyes critically. "First of all, in the Buy More break room where anybody could hear it. And secondly, that's kind of intense. I've been on a handful of dates with her."
"She's a mom, Chuck. A P.I. mom. A private momvestigator."
"Yes, I'm aware. I've met her child. His name is Max and he's cute as hell." He winced. "But can you chill maybe? You're fixating a lot on it and it's making me…slightly uncomfortable, buddy."
"YOU MET HIM?!" Morgan rasped. His jaw fell open. "Oh shit. Oh shit, Chuck."
"Okay, again, maybe let's not talk about this here? I'm not positive Jeff doesn't have this break room bugged and I really don't need everyone at the Buy More knowing I'm going on dates with someone, let alone that particular detail."
"Fair," Morgan assented with a nod, widening his eyes. "That would be the most annoying thing ever."
"Yeah! It really would be! So can we maybe…?"
"Yes, yes. Sure. Yes. Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I was just really startled. Your girlfriend is a—"
"She isn't my girlfriend, and you're still talking about it."
"Whoa. Whooaaa… three dates and you aren't calling her that?"
"We're moving slow. I basically never get to see her, so, taking it slow kind of goes hand in hand." He cleared his throat, picking at his food but not eating it. "I'm tiptoeing kind of because I don't want to freak her out or push too hard and she decides I'm…too much to deal with."
"I get that. Totally." Morgan nodded. "But you're a really good guy, Chuck. I don't think you're as scary as you think." He chuckled, shoveling cereal into his mouth and chewing loudly.
Morgan wouldn't understand if he tried to explain the intricacy of the thoughts going through his head, he knew. Because he couldn't even make sense of it. He just got this hesitant feeling from Sarah, and he had a feeling it was about the fact that she had a child. Or maybe the case was taking up so much of her brain space.
The extra effort it would take to be in some kind of relationship on top of everything else was probably not all that welcome. If he were in her shoes, he'd probably be the same. Maybe. Unless it was her, specifically. He'd take all the extra effort. Just pile that shit on there. So long as he got to spend time with her.
"Chuck...?"
He shook himself. "Yeah, buddy…"
"I asked you if you've gone out with her since the other night."
"Oh." Chuck ate more of his pad Thai. "Um. No."
"Ah."
Chuck watched as his friend shoveled more cereal into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully…and loudly. He wasn't sure why the loud chewing was grating on him today, but it just was. A lot of thing were grating on him today. He was just on edge for some reason. But he tried to stamp it down. Morgan hadn't done anything wrong. And to his credit, he wasn't expanding on his "ah", but even so, there was a whole damn lot in that "ah".
And Chuck Bartowski felt it against his ribcage. Like a little person was in there with a saw, grinding it against one of his ribs.
It made him wish he hadn't told anybody about Sarah and the dates they'd been on, or the fact that she was a P.I., or that she was a single parent. It made him wish he'd kept all of it to himself, so that he could do this his own way. Without the pregnant pauses and the meaningful quiet, like what was happening right now.
He knew both Ellie and Morgan were side eyeing the whole thing, knowing as they did that he wasn't able to see Sarah all that often, knowing that he kept the ball in her court, seeing that she wasn't doing much with that ball. At least, in their minds, it had to look that way.
It wasn't that way, and he didn't know how to say it so that they actually believed him, so that they didn't think he was just very into her and sticking up for her, or in denial about the reality of this dating situation.
It was getting on his nerves now.
All of these questions with the awkward pauses at the end. Has she contacted you? Yes, I just texted with her, like, ten minutes ago. Oh. But no date? Nope. No date. She's busy. Right.
The tone in the questions, too. He just wanted to be left alone to handle this in the way he saw fit without all of that mess. Nobody understood. And he couldn't tell them this case had some potentially massive and dangerous implications, and that she was a mother trying to protect her child in the meantime. And herself.
But then on the other side of things, he wanted to protect her too. And it wasn't that he thought he could physically best someone if they came after her. He'd damn well try with everything he had. But it was more that he imagined she was juggling raising her kid and being scared about the dangers of being involved in this case, and he didn't know her well, but she seemed like the type of person who might internalize all of it, and who probably didn't have a lot of outlets outside of her job…and her much more important job.
Chuck Bartowski wanted to be that for Sarah Walker. He wanted to be her outlet. He wanted to be something easy in her life that she didn't have to worry that much about, that she could just enjoy, check out from stressful things and relax. He wished he could persuade her to trust him with that.
He knew she hadn't known him long enough to trust him with that. But with time came trust. He just had to get that time. Somehow.
Going into his pocket, he took his phone out and pulled up their last conversation. The last thing she'd typed to him: "Everything seems like a dead end."
He'd replied back immediately: "If there is anything I can do to help you please tell me. Anything at all."
That was two days ago and she hadn't ever said anything. It made him ache. She would eventually text him again, or call. It wasn't that he thought she wouldn't. But he couldn't help wanting the chance to be there for her when she needed somebody.
"Hey, I've got an idea."
He looked up at Morgan and clicked his phone back into sleep mode, sticking it in his pocket again. "Hey, what's your idea?"
"Mortal Kombat tournament. Your place. Tonight. Me and the boys. What do you say?"
Chuck rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't really want to. He'd planned on getting some major coding stuff done tonight, making a few improvements to his GreyWolf software, first of all, trying to make it a little more user friendly. But he'd been toying with an idea for an app game. Sighing, he shrugged. "I dunno, man. I've got—"
"Look, I am tired of seeing you shuffling around here with your shoulders all hunched. Whether that girl calls you for another date or not, you've got us, Chuck. You've got me. And you've got Mortal Kombat."
He snorted. "Oh, hey, you're right. A grisly violent murder game is absolutely a great replacement for an incredibly brilliant, cool, mature, funny, nice woman who also happens to be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. Yep."
"Whoa whoa, cool it with the sarcasm, man. I'm just trying to get you out of this slump."
"I'm not in a slump, Morgan. I'm just trying to manage this potential relationship in the way I see fit and everybody's like…freaking Hitchcock birds diving in and nipping at me and giving me these doubts that I really don't need."
Morgan sat back in his chair and nodded slowly. Chuck was afraid he'd hurt his feelings, comparing him to a Hitchcock bird. But then he let out a long breath and leaned forward to pat Chuck's arm. "You're right. You're totally right. Wow. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to give you doubts, Chuck. You're the best guy in the world. I just don't get why girls don't flock towards you like…like nice Hitchcock birds." Chuck snorted, shaking his head. "No, seriously, dude, I apologize. You know what you're doing." Then he pointed. "Mortal Kombat tourney?"
"Nah, not tonight. And no, not because I'll be sitting at home pining or some stupid romcom shit. I'm trying to make GreyWolf more user friendly so that I'm not the only person on the planet who can figure out how to work it. I've got stuff in this noggin that I need to get out." He poked his temple.
Suddenly, the door to the break room burst open and Jeff, Lester, and Skip tripped over one another to get in. Red-faced, Fernando, hurried in after them, eyes wide behind his glasses.
"Dear God, Chuck. Chuck, I-I-I-I…" Lester stuttered, pointing out the door. "There's-There's a…"
"What?" Chuck asked, pushing to his feet.
"Something's WRONG, Chuck!" Jeff said.
"Or something very, very right. I can't decide," Lester muttered, scrunching up his face in thought.
Skip was just gesturing wildly, tugging at his shirt with his other hand, a nervous tick he'd always had.
"It could be the end of everything as we know it, Chuck!" Jeff exclaimed as best he could with how many substances were probably in his system.
"Or the beginning…" Lester added quietly, his eyes going wide.
A chill went through Chuck then. "Oh God, is it an active shooter? They did not train me for this!"
"An active—No, Chuck! Come on!" Lester snapped.
"Chuck, come on," Fernando parroted, moving into the shorter man's shadow. "Unless she's packing."
"Oh, she's definitely packing," Jeff drawled, a stupid, gross smile widening on his face.
"Sh-She?" Morgan asked, frowning. "The hell are you dumbasses talking about?"
"There's a woman out there. A woman, oh my God, a wo-MUN." Lester bit his bottom lip between his teeth and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I have never seen anything like her before and she asked…for you, Chuck."
"She asked for you," Jeff mumbled, pointing.
"Why, I have no idea." Lester breathed on his knuckles and shined them on his grey Nerd Herd tie. "I'm exotic, which is inherently sexy."
"That's…very nineteen-fifties of you," Chuck droned, tilting his head. "I—You know what? I'm just gonna let you handle that. Not my place." He froze then. "Wait. You said a woman asked for me?"
"Hottest creature I've ever seen in my life," Fernando rasped. "I think if she looked at me, I'd burst into flames!"
"Truly the hottest creature." Lester whistled and Skip made a whistle sound through his two front teeth.
"Calling women 'creatures' might be part of the reason why a woman like that doesn't look at you. Just a thought," Morgan surmised. He went rigid then and turned to Chuck. He must've figured it out too. "A hot woman who wants to see Chuck specifically?"
Chuck gave him his best shut the hell up look just in case, before he cleared his throat. "You people are a mess. Just because a pretty woman comes into the store. We're LA-adjacent, you know. Pretty women are everywhere." He pushed past them to leave the break room.
"But do they come into the Burbank Buy More? Specifically asking for one of us, Chuck? No. No, they do not," Lester reasoned, hot on his heels.
He really did not need them all following him out onto the sales floor, seeing Sarah, watching his face when he saw her, and/or her face when she saw him. It would spoil all of this. They would all be so much more insufferable than they already were.
And only Sarah would elicit that kind of a reaction from these guys. Outright panic and fear.
Her beauty was something else.
Chuck turned and held up a hand, halting Lester. Jeff slammed into his back and he reached back to shove him off in annoyance. "Guys, listen. I need some space. It's probably someone with a business who needs me to do a job and I really don't need to be crowded while I work, okay? Can you just chill? Please."
"Got it. We're cool. Right, boys?" Lester did a poor rendition of Fonzi, lifting his hands up by his shoulders, his elbows tucked into his waist, and he snapped with both hands, then pointed in either direction. "Gents, disperse. To your ogling stations."
They broke off to dash behind things on either side of the store, just as Lester requested and Chuck was left standing across from Morgan who wore an utterly flat look on his face, hands in his pants pockets.
"I dunno, man. I'm not a part of this," he said, shrugging.
Sighing and rolling his eyes, Chuck turned on his heel and walked the rest of the way out to the Nerd Herd desk. It wasn't until he got closer that she turned to face him and…
Oh.
Oh shit.
He stopped and this time Morgan slammed into his back. He didn't shove him the way Lester had Jeff, but he did stagger a bit. And then he felt his best friend grab onto his arm. "Chuck, that's her? Holy fuck, holy absolute fuck. Oh my God…oh my fucking G—"
"Shhh! Sh—Shut up, Morgan. That's not her. Take some deep breaths."
"Oh. Oh God, I thought—"
"So did I. Can you let me do my job?"
"Yep. Ask…ask her if she's single, though, huh?"
"Oh sure, will do. Because that's the epitome of professional."
But Morgan had already moved off, staring at the redhead at the desk with a dreamy look on his face.
Chuck finally closed the distance and smiled at her. She caught sight of him and gave him the smirk he sort of expected.
"Well!" she chirped. "Here's the man of the…hour. Wow. Different get-up at work, huh? So this is what Sar first saw when you went to her office? Interesting."
Chuck cleared his throat, ignoring her teasing this time. "Hi, you were looking for me? I'm Chuck, the Nerd Herd Area Specialist. How can I help you?"
She gave him a bit of a dubious look, but thank God, she was clever enough to play along. "Uhhh, yes." She stuck out her hand and he shook it. "I'm Carina. Hi." He nodded, giving her as subtle of an apologetic look as he could, receiving an even wider smirk. "I hear you're the guy to talk to around here for big computer issues?"
He nodded sagely. "I am, yes."
"I also—mffffff!" Chuck had a feeling Jeff's attempt to insert himself into this had been foiled by his best friend Lester Patel, who must've covered his mouth and yanked him back into his…ew, ogling station? He just realized that was what Lester had called it. Jesus, they were gross.
Carina's eyes flicked over at something behind him, an eyebrow raised, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Uh…"
"Ignore them. Please. Literally ignore everything here," he desperately whispered through his teeth. "Well, if this situation involves sensitive materials, I suggest we move this to my office. And we'll see if I can be of any assistance."
"That's a good idea. It is…sensitive."
She was good at picking up on cues, at least.
So he led her away from the desk and towards his private office in the back corner of the sales floor.
And it wasn't until they got behind closed doors, eyes following them the whole way making him feel like freaking Snow White in the dark forest, that Chuck spun on his heel and apologized profusely.
"I hope none of them did anything too terrible. I'm so sorry. They're out of control some days and it is really hard to stem that side of them."
"The creepy side?" she drawled.
"Yes," he breathed. "I'm so sorry."
She snorted. "I'll survive. They need to seek some serious help, but no real harm done. The short one with the beard was kinda cute though…like a sweet goat from a cartoon or something."
Chuck choked on his own spit, thumping himself on the chest. She smirked, seeming pleased with herself. "I'm a terrible friend for thinking that's funny."
"I dunno." Carina shrugged. "I just think you have a sense of humor."
"Touché." Chuckling, he walked around her, grabbed the chair across the desk from his and pulled it out a little. "Please have a s—oh. Wait. You're here." He straightened. "You came to my—to the Buy More." A chill wracked through him. "What happened? Is everything okay?"
She waved him off with a hand through the air.
But he rushed out, "Is Sarah okay?"
"She's fine," she laughed.
"Max? Max okay?"
She got a weird look on her face, one he couldn't read, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. "Max is perfectly fine, too. God, you're a jumpy sort, huh?"
"Jumpy with a good sense of humor."
Carina laughed, pointing at him. "I like that."
"Thanks." He shrugged, smirking, relieved that she wasn't here because of some…God, she was right. He was jumpy. He just hadn't texted with Sarah for a bit. And then here came Carina her lawyer friend, showing up at his work out of the blue. "S-So, um, what's up? To what do I owe this pleasure?"
She smiled and plopped down in the chair. He took it as his cue to walk to his own chair and sit. "Well, this is a business call, as it so happens." That made a lot more sense, and he felt stupid.
"I see. The, uh, notes I wrote up working okay on your system?"
"My system's tip top, thank you." He narrowed his eyes at the flirty tone. He knew she was a teasing sort, always trying to keep him on his toes, and that the flirtation wasn't serious. But still, he was leery. She snorted. "So now you're serious. Pfft. Fine." They smirked at one another, and then her smirk died down. Ironically, she looked serious all of a sudden. "It's sort of related to that, though. I've been using your notes, running quick checks. I think I found something. It's incongruous. Fishy."
"Fishy how?" He crossed his arms and frowned.
"I don't know. You probably would be able to figure it out better than me, but it was something I…didn't put there." He sat up a bit straighter, his frown deepening. "So I planted a lot of fake shit and moved anything pertaining to the related case I had on that computer to something a lot safer. I tried to do it subtle-like, to try not to alert them. And I think they're still on there. Like…maybe what was on Sarah's computer."
Chuck leaned in closer, propping his elbows on his desk. "That's concerning."
"Ya think?" She rolled her eyes. "And here I was thinking they got caught with her laptop, they wouldn't fuck around like that anymore."
"Sure they got caught but they didn't actually get caught. There were no repercussions. At least, not that I heard of. Nobody was pegged with the cyber break-in, were they?"
"No." She shook her head. "LAPD analysts weren't able to get any tracks off of it."
He sighed, knowing he should've just done that part of it himself, even if he wasn't asked to. Maybe he could've at least gotten something that might help Sarah or the LAPD pin whoever the hacker was. But he hadn't. He'd done the job he was asked to do. The end.
"But I think I was sneaky enough. They think they've got a lock on some pertinent info to the case. What they actually have in their sweaty Cheeto-stained fingers," Chuck snickered at that, "is some LSAT prep shit from when I was studying, like, seven years ago." She snorted and he smiled, giving her an impressed look. "I know. I'm a stinker," she drawled, winking.
He grinned at that.
"Look, you're a nerd and all that. I mean, a computer nerd, geek, dork, squint, whatever it is you guys call yourselves." He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. "I was hoping you could use whatever hack they're using to get into my laptop and find out where the fuck they are so we can nab 'em and throw the book at 'em."
Chuck raised his eyebrows. "You mean tracking them off the link they've formed with your laptop to steal some of your case info?"
"Yeah. That. I guess."
"Me? A tracker? Of a hacker?"
"Nice rhyme."
He shook himself, muttering distractedly, "Thanks, yeah." Clearing his throat, he climbed up to his feet and began to pace behind his desk, feeling a bit of panic going through him. He turned then and eyed his window, the blinds just slightly open. He hurried to them and turned the wand to close them, and then he poked his finger through and tugged down, peeking out between them and casting his gaze over the expansive parking lot at the side of the Buy More.
"Uh… What are you doing?"
"You weren't followed, were you?"
He pulled back and looked at her seriously.
Carina made a face. "This isn't a le Carré novel."
Chuck raised his eyebrows again, pulling his chin back. "Wow, okay. A le Carré reference. Well done." She rolled her eyes and he straightened up again, running his hand down his button up and sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, I mean, this thing is kind of big, isn't it? So someone following you isn't exactly far-fetched."
"Big?" She looked at him with no small amount of suspicion. "What makes you say this is big? Has Sarah said anything to you about this case?"
"H-Wha—? No!" He thrust his hand out towards her, even taking a step closer. "No, no, no. She's been very adamant about not telling me anything besides what I needed to know for that job I did for her on that first day I went to her agency to, er, unhack her laptop." He tugged on his cufflink a bit nervously. "I swear. Pinky promise, all that. She hasn't told me a single thing about it. I just assumed, since now there are two of you who've had your laptops hacked. Allegedly. I still have to see the laptop in question to know for sure."
"Oh. Right." She cleared her throat daintily, pursing her lips. "Sorry I jumped down your throat, there, Chip."
"Chuck."
"Right, right. Chuck." He wasn't sure if she was fucking with him or if she'd really forgotten his name. She really was an odd one. "So what then? Do I write you a check? Do I have to fill out some sort of job request paperwork thing? A contract?" She slapped her briefcase down on his desk, and it was hard enough that he winced. She must've seen it because she laughed. "The laptop's not in here. You think I'm stupid, driving around with it in my bag? Taking it here?"
He squinted at her and shrugged.
Carina chuckled then. "Gonna answer that first question?"
"Oh, n-no paperwork. I can handle all that later if it's something you need. I-I mean, I can print something out if you need records of the service I provide."
"Is it gonna be the same service you gave my friend Walker, Chuck, because you should know, if you plan on taking me out to dinner…I'm a vegetarian." Chuck was speechless, his jaw falling open. "Well. Like, two days a week. Fish doesn't count."
Chuck let out a shocked, breathy chuckle and shook his head. "You're…teasing me. Again."
"Of course I am. You are really way too easy, buddy."
Shaking himself, he sent her an unamused look. "So what do you want to do about this laptop? You said you didn't bring it."
"It's in my safe in my law office. I want you to meet me there later tonight, after dinner, when your shift or whatever is over here."
"I don't work shifts, really. It's salary and I just have to… Never mind, you don't care." She winced in agreement and he couldn't help chuckling at her honesty. It was refreshing, at least. "I'll, uh, be there. What time?"
"Is nine past your curfew?" He just sighed at her and she giggled. "Here's the address, Computer Superman."
He decided not to show her how pleased that nickname made him as she slipped over her law office's card. "Do I just walk in…? Or…?"
"Text me at the cell number on the back of that card. …Flip it over… Theeere it is."
Chuck sent her a halfhearted glare as he turned the card over and saw the number scrawled out in handwriting that very much looked like it would be hers, neat and elegant but scratchy at the same time.
With a chuckle, she slung the briefcase onto her shoulder again. "Hey, that window have a screen? Can I sneak out that way instead of walking through that again?" She rolled her eyes.
"I, uh, would have to pop the screen out. And it's probably at the point where if a ladybug flies into it too hard, it'll break it, so I'm not sure it'll survive being taken out."
"Well, fuck. Fine. But after I have to make my way through those walking, talking sexual harassments in human form, you'd better fix this little problem of mine."
Chuck wasn't sure if she was serious or not as she left. And he walked to the doorway of his office to watch her go. Because she was who she was, she turned to eye him over her shoulder, batting her eyelashes at him, swaying her hips, and then she pointedly winked in a way everyone would see and fixate on.
And there it was.
Her way of punishing him for … he didn't even know what.
Lord help him when he showed up at her office at nine o'clock.
}o{
She felt like she'd been run over by a truck.
Max had woken her up three separate times in the night, and finally ended up sleeping in her bed next to her, but then he'd thrashed, kicked her, and giggled enough, that she hadn't gotten more than maybe four hours intermittently, if that.
It was hard to resist the big eyes in the blue and green nightlight cascading over his face, tears spilling down his cheeks, his little hands reaching up over the bars of his bed for her. He said a monster was going to get him, and she tried to get him to sleep in his bed again two separate times. But the third time the "Mommeeeeeeee" sounded down the hallway, she picked him up to comfort him and she reluctantly asked if he wanted to sleep with her.
Never again.
And she knew beyond all doubt she could think that over and over again, but this would happen again. Ugh.
She didn't want him to be one of those kids who got out of their bed and crawled into their parent's bed every night. She would never sleep again. The kid was the worst at sleeping in one place.
"Sup with you, Walker?"
She slumped into the chair on the other side of Det. Rizzo's desk and just yawned in response. "You realize you're asking someone with a two year old child this question, right?"
"Yeah. And I still haven't gotten an answer."
"Touché." She sniffed and smirked, forcing herself to sit up a bit straighter. "He is so bad at sleeping lately. I don't know if he's feeding off my nervous energy or what, but he keeps talking about a monster and I finally let him sleep in my bed early this morning…"
"Oh boy. Lemme guess. He's a kicker."
"So bad. Oh my God."
"Yeah, my niece was a kicker. I love her to death but babysitting her overnight, I ended up with these massive bruises."
Sarah snorted. And then she let out a miserable sound and covered her face. "I need one full night of sleep. That's all. And then I'll be okay again."
"Why don't you let him have a sleepover at your parents' place again?"
"It isn't fair, just shoving my kid off on his grandparents because I need a break. It feels like…"
"If you say cheating, I swear, I'll smack you."
She sent the detective a flat look. "I wasn't going to say cheating. I was going to say it feels like I'm not being the parent, the mom, he needs."
Before Rizzo could add words to the annoyed look she flashed her, Casey poked out of the conference room and snapped his fingers, motioning for them to join him. "I hate that shit," Rizzo grumbled.
"The snapping? Yeah. Kind of makes me want to kick him in the nuts."
They were both smirking as they filed into the conference room.
"Where's Etheridge?" Rizzo asked.
"Sent him to do a bit of recon. S'why I have you both in here," Casey said as they shut the door behind them, coming to sit in the chairs facing the case board. "One of Etheridge's old informants might know the guy we nabbed. Used to cross-country truck together. Smuggled weapons, drugs..."
"You think he might know what this guy is up to?"
"He might. No tellin' how chummy they were, but it doesn't hurt to leave no stone unturned."
"You know the DA is frustrated with us, right?" Rizzo piped up, rolling her eyes. "We keep throwing these perps at them to build cases on, hoping they're all connected somehow, piling up the work they have to do."
"Ain't that kinda the gig?" Casey asked with a shrug.
"He has a point," Sarah muttered, crossing her arms. "This latest one feels like something, though. Besides what we arrested him for, he works for that same company as the insurance fraud fella."
"Equity Insurance?"
Sarah let out a "Ha!"
Zondra turned and looked at her. "No, that's really what they're called." She reached out and grabbed the file, shoving it into Sarah's hands. "Equity Insurance."
Sarah opened the file and gaped. "You really can't even write this."
"Yeah, it's kind of a lot, isn't it?"
Casey shook his head. "It doesn't matter what it's called. I think we can do some major digging on this Equity Insurance and it's business partnerships. We follow a few of these paths, maybe they lead somewhere that connects all this shit…"
"We find what connects it all, and maybe we find what is really going on here," she muttered, thumbing through the file. "The big crime that encapsulates all the little crimes."
"You mean the big crime that's being covered up by all the little crimes."
"These are career criminals," Zondra added. "Crime is what they do. Who's to say this stuff we're picking them up for is even connected to some big overarching criminal syndicate?"
Sarah pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, shutting the file and putting it back on the conference table, before climbing to her feet. "Precedent," she answered. "It almost always is something bigger." She sighed. "Unfortunately."
"Where you going?" Casey asked.
"I have somewhere to be if this was it?"
"You don't want to see us questioning this Equity Insurance guy?"
"I'll watch the recording."
She went to the door.
"Oooo, where are you going?" Zondra teased, as if it wasn't common knowledge for everyone at the station who worked with Sarah Walker for even a week while she was still on the force that she didn't do the whole dating thing, especially after she had her son.
"Ugh, I don't care. I don't need to be in on this." And Casey pushed past Sarah to leave the conference room altogether, crunching his plastic water cup in his hand along the way and tossing it in the trash bin just outside the door.
"You do realize I have a two year old, right? I can't just snap my fingers and disappear him to someplace safe until I've got enough time to be a mom again and…" She snapped her fingers. "Snap him back into existence."
The detective laughed. "Let me babysit the little tyke sometime. I'll teach him how to say no to his mommy."
"That's exactly why I'm not taking you up on your offer," Sarah laughed, as Zondra got up and followed her out of the room. She turned on her heel to face Zondra then. "But in all seriousness, thanks for the offer. Maybe sometime I'll actually hit you up."
"Of course. But, uh, it might have to be at your place. Unlike our lawyer girl Carina, I, um, haven't toddler proofed my apartment. There are things in there I wouldn't even know to hide from him at this point."
Sarah winced. "Not thrilled about the prospect of my son finding one of your hidden weapons."
Zondra grinned mischievously. "The last person I brought home wasn't thrilled either when they found one of my hidden weapons."
"You're gross. I'm leaving this pit."
The other woman's cackle followed Sarah all the way to the elevator as she merely smirked and walked away.
}o{
Chuck drove past the building twice before he realized it was the place he was looking for. It was an old, historic looking building, one he genuinely didn't expect to have a law office, especially not lawyers working for the DA.
It looked like the type of place Perry Mason might've toiled away at one of his cases, alone, or perhaps with Della Street by his side, working to prove a wrongfully accused defendant's innocence.
There wasn't much curb parking and most of those spots were filled so he drove past the building for over a block and parked in a side lot, a small enough lot that he hadn't seen it either until he was practically pulling into it. The lighting was horrific and it made him a little worried someone might step out of the shadows and hold a gun to his head. Especially considering the sort of "big stuff" involved in this. And apparently someone was hacking into the DA lawyer's computer just like they had Sarah's a few weeks ago.
They seemed relentless. Gutsy. Or maybe desperate.
And desperate criminals were more dangerous than not. Granted, wasn't that when they slipped up, too?
Maybe they were desperate, desperate to know what the investigators were looking into, what they had, what they might discover, what would ultimately bring down the bad guys. And Chuck was pretty sure he was capable of finding this bastard with whatever trace they were leaving on Carina's device. Especially if she was successful in making them think she still didn't know they were there.
Cocky hackers were a dime a dozen. Chuck could only hope this person was one of them.
He got out of his car, making Bruce Lee fists at his sides, ready to swing if anyone tried to come up on him. And he looked all around him as he stepped out of the alley lot onto the front sidewalk.
He'd survived the first test.
No one had killed him in the creepy, dark parking lot. Check.
He rounded the corner and rushed the rest of the way to the building, making his way to the roundabout driveway in front of the building. He imagined this was probably quite the swanky hotel back in the 'twenties. It was empty now, however. No valets in their pill hats and pressed red double-breasted suits, little cars putt-putt-putting up to stop at the curb in front of the valet podium, women stepping out in their heels and slinky dresses and furs.
Chuck peeked in through the ground to ceiling glass windows beside the entrance. The lobby was dimly lit, dark even, as if everyone had gone home for the night. Except for the ghosts.
This place absolutely had ghosts.
He wasn't sure what kind of person Sarah's best friend was to be able to work here, especially late at night, without losing her mind or her nerve. Either she didn't give a shit about any of this supernatural stuff and was one hundred percent certain ghosts didn't exist, or she embraced the ghosts as her minions because she was actually some sort of a badass witch.
Honestly, if he really thought hard about it, either option would make her a badass. But he also kind of hoped she was a witch.
Granted, if she was a witch, Jeff and/or Lester would have been cursed for their behavior earlier today. Not that he thought Carina wasn't capable of that kind of restraint. It was mostly just that they would have deserved the opposite of restraint. And nobody really could have blamed her for it.
Instead of thinking about witches and Jeff and Lester, though, he should be figuring out why Sarah Walker's best friend sent him to a potentially abandoned old-ass building at nine o'clock at night.
Was he getting ambushed or something?
Was this some kind of trap?
Damn it, he wished he'd borrowed Morgan's pepper spray. Ever since the Beard had been bullied in high school, he kept it with him. It was his "Bully Repelent". Poor guy.
Sighing at himself and rolling his eyes, he pulled his cell out of his jeans pockets and pulled up the number that had been on the back of the business card. He sent a text. "Hi, I'm here." He sent it and paused. "I think. Not sure if this is the right address. It's dark inside."
He waited for almost two whole minutes, pacing slowly in front of the entrance, looking out into the LA night, watching the odd car pass by here and there. He thought maybe he should wait in the car, but decided against it. At least the light on the outside of this building, as eerily yellow as it was, worked. The lights in that parking lot… Well, there were none.
As luck would have it, there was no moon tonight, either.
Before he could decide to call her or just leave altogether and regroup, figure out where to go from here, his phone buzzed. He turned it over in his hand to look.
"Sorry. Bad cell service. Sending my asst down to let you in."
Her ass? But then he blinked at the message and saw the "T" at the end.
"Assistant!" he exclaimed. "Oh, assistant. Got it. Jesus."
He needed a God damn drink. A really hard one.
Chuck turned to look out at the street again, texting back a quick, "Cool, thanks!" before sticking his phone back in his pocket.
It was another long while before he heard the loud clicking and clacking of the door's lock behind him. And then the loud squeaking of the door opening. He spun to look through the glass as Carina's assist—oh.
Oh!
She opened the door wider and leaned her shoulder against it a bit jauntily, a small smile on her face. "You're the guy from the Buy More, huh?" She squinted a little at him, and took him in from his head to his toe, then back up again. "A little taller than I expected."
Chuck grinned, chuckling quietly, a little in awe of the person standing in front of him, stepping out into the night cold a few feet and letting the door swing shut gently behind her.
"Della Street," he muttered warmly.
She made a face. "This street isn't called Della."
He blinked, taking a step closer. "N-No. It's not the…name of the street. Della Street is the name of a person. Well, fictional. She's Perry M—Damn it, you're really good at that." The slow teasing smile grew on her face as he tried to explain and he put it together much too late.
Giggling, she wrinkled her nose at him again, much more serious suddenly. "I still say you're too tall."
Chuck stopped a few feet in front of her, making a face and tilting his head. "What, does she have tiny desks and chairs in her office or somethin'?"
She barked out a laugh and it filled him up. "No, but I absolutely love the imagery of you sitting in a tiny chair at an equally tiny desk."
"Mm, no. I don't. Just thinking about it gives me leg cramps." He bounced up and down on his toes jauntily, grinning toothily.
She just smiled up at him quietly, and he felt the air filling with something he couldn't quite place. It wasn't good or bad, it was almost a nervous energy. That nervous adrenaline of seeing someone you were nuts about for the first time in a bit and not knowing what to do with yourself. Or maybe he was just surprised as hell to see her, having not expected it in the least.
"Hi," she said quietly.
"Hey." He stepped in even closer, so close. He had the urge to wrap her in his arms and hug her tight, and the urge was strong enough that his fingers tingled. But there was something that kept him from doing that. He hadn't seen her in days now, and he hadn't heard from her. And he knew how busy she was; she'd warned him about this being a thing if they kept seeing each other. But it was hard not to be all too human about it, and let it get under his skin.
Then again, he felt something between them, a buzzing sensation, like the air was charged. And it made him wonder if she'd missed him too.
"Carina didn't say anything about you being here too."
She widened her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line. "Yeah, I thought that might be the case. That's, uh, kind of her thing. Big productions. However she can shake things up a bit, make life interesting."
And then she put her hand on his chest, her fingers running down the lapel of his jacket lightly, her gaze following the trail she made.
"Thanks for doing this, Chuck. Coming here to help Carina this late on a freaking cold LA night."
"It's not that late. Nine isn't too crazy." She just peered up at him. "I mean, of course I'm here. Of course I'm gonna help her, especially since she asked so nicely." He grinned and she gave him a dubious look. "She showed up at my work and sort of almost caused a riot. Don't ask. Those guys are…um, problematic. And she has a very powerful…aura." Sarah giggled through her nose cutely. "I felt bad about it, but she handled herself pretty well. I, uh, just…ahem, I hope I can be of some help here." Frowning, he looked past her shoulder into the building through the large glass windows. "This laptops-being-hacked-by-bad-guys trend isn't a good one."
Sarah raised her eyebrows. "It isn't. But I stand by my gratitude. You're here even though you had no idea I'd be here too. You came merely to help. It means a lot. To Carina too, but she won't say it. Most likely, you're just gonna get teased mercilessly." She winced. "Sorry ahead of time."
Laughing, he shook his head. "I don't mind it. It's all in good fun."
Quiet again, she peered up at him with a bit of a shy smile. It wasn't really a tension between them, he thought. More a tentativeness. There'd been some space between the last time they saw each other and she seemed almost embarrassed, maybe? He didn't know why. Was she embarrassed about that?
As he struggled with whether or not he should bring it up and ask, she slid one of her hands down to wrap her fingers around his and squeeze. He decided not to ask, and instead they could just stand here and smile.
Chuck felt and saw her slight shiver as a cold breeze went past them. She had a blouse on with only a dark blue wool sweater over it, no actual jacket to speak of, probably having left it inside with the intention of just unlocking the door for him to come into the lobby.
And still they just stayed where they were, their fingers tangled, her other hand twisting a little in the front of his jacket, pulling him just a little closer.
He missed her.
He missed the way she felt against him. And he couldn't deny how much he was missing the way her lips moved under his, as close as she was to him now. Her lips were right there. But then there was the way she touched him. The tug of her hand in his jacket, his fingers enveloped in her other hand's cool embrace.
There was warmth between them, almost a heat, and he felt the want too. Should he do something about that? This wasn't a date. She hadn't invited him here; Carina had. Did she even know he'd be here? Did she want him here?
That was stupid. She wasn't staying away because she didn't want to be around him. They'd had this conversation. But he found he could just stay like this, even with this gentle touching, her blue eyes blazing, forev—bbbzzzzztttt… bbbzzzzztttt.
Sarah was the one who broke the long gaze. And help him, Lord, but she lifted his cellphone up between them, her bottom lip clamped between her teeth as she tilted her head to be able to peek at the screen of his phone. How'd she get his ph—?
Oh God, he could feel himself blushing. She'd let go of his fingers and she'd put her hand in his pocket, down his pocket, to retrieve the phone. Oh God.
She must've realized by the gobsmacked look on his face that she'd just done that, and he wondered if she'd even thought about it before she'd done it, and what did that mean about this between them that she'd done it so naturally and easily?
Sarah's eyes widened a bit as she glanced at the phone again. "Oh. I shouldn't—erm, sorry. I didn't…ask before I… I mean, I just sort of…did that. I'm s—"
"No, no. S'okay. That's fine. You can…do that anytime…you want. To. Um." His face crumbled into a look of miserable confusion. Why did his mouth betray him like this every time? Maybe because Sarah Walker, private investigator, had just slipped her fingers into his front pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone after days of not seeing each other, days of not talking…
A look of amusement on her face, Sarah wiggled the phone between them. "Not to invade your privacy but it's exactly who I thought it'd be." She made an annoyed sound and shifted the phone in her grip so that he could read what was on the screen.
At first, he was just relieved Carina had texted him and not Morgan or Ellie or something about Sarah or Max or who even knew what… But then he actually ready the text: "Are u2 coming up here anytime soon or u just gonna stand out there sucking face all night?"
"What'd I say about the relentless teasing?" she drawled, rolling her eyes.
Chuck felt himself blushing like mad. They weren't sucking face, but God, he'd thought about it. He wanted it, didn't he? More than anything, he wanted Sarah's lips on his. And he blushed harder, hoping she couldn't see it as well in the bad lighting. He really didn't want her knowing his thoughts.
Before he could say anything, or do anything, Carina sent another text they could both see. "Oh and don't tell Sar we were making out in your office today. HEAVY making out."
Chuck swallowed crooked and spun to look back at Sarah, choking a little. He wheezed once and shook his head vigorously. "I don't know what she's—That's a lie. I didn't come anywhere near her—"
"Chuck."
"I-I mean, I literally didn't even touch her and—"
"Chuck, I know," she said in a placating tone, giving his jacket front a tug. "What did I tell you about the teasing? She knew there was a fifty/fifty chance I see that text along with you since I came out here to bring you back upstairs and we're…erm, still down here." Chuck felt his panic ebb immediately, and the worried look on his face fell to utter flatness. "…Yep," Sarah responded to his look, adding a shrug.
"How do you live with this?"
"I've known her most of my life. It comes with the package," she giggled, smoothing her hand down his front, affection in her face. Was it affection for Carina or for him? He wasn't sure. Maybe both? God, this was difficult and yet he was brimming from seeing her again. He was so glad she was here. "I'm sorry, though. Really. This wasn't funny; it was just mean. She can be kind of terrible with some of her jokes. I keep having to talk to her about it and it never does anything."
And then she stopped, his phone in her hand, and he wondered if maybe another text had come in, but then she turned it over in her hand. "Should—Do you want me to put your phone back in… I mean, I can. Or I can just give it to you like a normal person maybe?" She winced visibly.
He wanted her to put it back. But asking her to do that felt…weird. And awkward. So he just shrugged and put his hand out, haltingly. She slowly put the phone in his hand, their fingers brushing, eyes meeting. And he shoved his phone back into his pocket. "We should probably get in there, huh?"
"Maybe that's for the best. She might get ideas."
"She…already has ideas." He blushed and she must've seen it this time because she giggled. "Is she always gonna be this brutal with the straight-faced teasing? Including by, uh, text?"
He reached past Sarah, his arm curling around her, to grab onto the door, pulling it open, shifting so that she could head inside in front of him. She let out a snort and stepped away from his front to go into the lobby, smiling over her shoulder at him. "Yes. She will. I'm sorry. I know, I've got all these strikes against me."
She said it with effortless, teasing self-deprecation.
"I've yet to count even one strike against you," he said immediately, letting the door shut behind him.
Sarah halted and turned on her heel to look at him and he nearly bumped into her, stopping himself just in time. She looked like she had something to say, and then she squirmed a bit, diverting her gaze from his. And then she weakly gestured at the door behind him with a flare of her fingers. "Um, sorry. I-I have to make sure that's locked."
"Oh." That didn't feel like what she was going to say, or why she'd stopped. And now she was watching him expectantly, as if daring him to ask what she really meant to say. "…Oh!" He reached back and turned the lock, feeling like a complete and utter fool.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
"No worries. Don't want just anyone waltzing in."
"No, Chuck. Thanks. For…what you said. About the strikes. It was sweet."
He nodded, then raised his eyebrows. "I meant for it to be reassuring."
"It was that too." She moved in close and pushed up to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "C'mon, before she texts something else ridiculously salacious." Taking his hand, she pulled him along with her through an old lobby, one single light on at the end of the room near what looked like a front desk, the one-time concierge perhaps.
He was still stuck on the way her lips had felt on his face, how much he wanted them there again. But he decided it was unnervingly dark in the building, even with that little light at the back.
"Am I allowed to be a little intrigued about what the next thing she'd text might be?"
Sarah raised her eyebrow at him and laughed. "Don't encourage her like that." She sent him another look, almost as if she was sizing him up. "But I'm not gonna tell you what you are or aren't allowed to be intrigued about."
When she turned away to lead him further back, Chuck allowed himself to trap his lips between his teeth and shut his eyes tight. It was the way she said it. God damn.
But when he opened his eyes again, he saw a very, very old elevator sunken into the furthest back wall, taunting him almost menacingly. "We-We're not going in that thing, are we?" he asked, pointing at the elevator.
"No," she chuckled, giving him a look. "I might have a semi-dangerous job but that doesn't mean I go sticking myself in unnecessarily dangerous situations. That?" She gestured at the potential death trap. "That's very unnecessary."
"Uh, agreed."
She led him to a staircase. Dimly lit, yet again. But still so much safer than that old-ass elevator felt by the look of it.
"This seems…" He cleared his throat. "I mean, I wouldn't peg a place like this to house the DA's office."
Sarah laughed. "Oh God, no. It doesn't. This isn't the DA's office. Carina just uses it every so often for meetings, erm, like this one. Away from the DA's office. She thinks it's safer."
"Oh. That makes a lot more sense. Thought LA might be skimping with the District Attorney's office."
Snorting over her shoulder, she kept climbing. "Wouldn't put it past 'em. But no. This is all Carina. Especially with a situation like this, she feels the need to cover her bases."
"I hope she's covering her bases with the definite ghosts that live in this building, too. Like, some sage maybe. Or prayer beads. A young priest and an old priest."
That earned a giggle. "Oh my God, Chuck. Ghosts? Really? It's just an old building."
"Sarah!" he hissed. "Haven't you ever seen a horror movie? I hate horror movies and even I know that's exactly what someone says right before the ghosts start fucking with them!"
He couldn't read the arched eyebrow she sent him. "Fucking with them? Is this some kind of ghost porno?"
Chuck's jaw fell open as Sarah cackled, and he couldn't help joining in. "That was bad even by my standards."
"Well, you're welcome."
And he couldn't help thinking, as she took his hand and squeezed it, pulling him up the stairs behind her with a jaunty look over her shoulder, that what he thought might be a tiring and potentially uncomfortable night helping Carina with her computer situation was now made infinitely better by the surprise presence of one Sarah Walker, P.I.
A/N: Oh no. It's plot stuff with more romance. And even more of it is coming in the next chapter! How will some of you cope?!
-SC