A/N: So, this is my Christmas fic for 2024. It won't feel like it for the first two chapters, which are set months earlier, but the last two are at the festive time.
Here, Chuck is a successful entrepreneur and Sarah is a talented American singer on tour abroad. This won't be full of action of adventure, nor does it contain any trace of the Intersect. It's just two people meeting and getting to know each other.
Beta'd by Capt LiL. Thanks, my friend.
Chuck, The Fan
Chapter 1
His trip to London was already exciting, but now he was over the moon.
On his first evening in his hotel, he'd picked up a local newspaper and spotted a competition he just had to enter. He was able to fill in his details on their website, along with answering what was an easy question for him. He wondered how many people in Britain would know how many copies of her first single had sold in her home state. It could be found if someone was good at searching on the internet, but would they bother? She wasn't well known here, hence the reason for the competition, he guessed.
Two days later he received the notification that he'd won.
The others in the meeting weren't too impressed with him disturbing the person speaking when he gasped.
So, he'd decided to take the whole of the next day off, shuffling some meetings to the following day, in order for him to be able to go.
The events started with him going to the paper's offices, where he would meet her. After photos were taken, they'd be driven to a restaurant where they would dine before being taken to where she was performing.
He hadn't even known she was in Britain on a tour, or that she would play in London while he was here, but he suspected it would be a sold out concert.
So, here he was, fretting about what to wear. The selection wasn't great, although he had brought more than he required for the ten day visit.
He stared at himself in his mirror.
What the hell do you wear when you're about to meet the woman you heard on the radio three years ago and have been dreaming about ever since?
He wouldn't have worried if he was just going to the concert. Jeans and a t-shirt would be fine for that, but going to meet with a celebrity and dining with her would normally require smarter clothing. A button-up shirt and possibly even one of his ties. However, he was going to the concert straight after the meal with her.
As his panic raised, he called his sister for help, not thinking about the time difference.
She knew why her manager had arranged this competition, but she was dreading it now.
She had no idea who she'd have to spend all that time with, other than it was a man. Knowing her luck, it'd be some supposed fan who had no interest in her music, but just lusted after the images of her they'd seen. Yes, they helped get her noticed, but at what cost?
She suspected that if they saw her when she first got up in the morning, they'd be less interested, but after her hair was sorted and makeup applied, she looked different.
Not that anyone got to see her in the mornings since the break-up with her ex because her desire to be a singer didn't fit with his plans for them. Sarah hadn't seen him again and, now living in LA, she was unlikely to meet a high-flyer living in Manhattan. She was careful, though, when she was in New York, as she was when recording.
Sarah looked at herself in her bedroom mirror. She knew her appearance would be different when she went out on stage. She didn't do that, the stylist did, so it almost felt out of her control, but that wasn't until later.
Surprisingly, she was getting to choose how she looked for the photoshoot. That was unusual, but maybe because it was being taken at the newspaper headquarters they were allowing it?
She knew the cameras would be kept at bay at the restaurant, so how did she want to look for this pseudo-date?
That was easy, really. She'd be herself, or how she saw herself, anyway. Nothing too glamorous, nothing too shabby.
She didn't want whoever it was staring at her cleavage, but maybe wearing something high-necked was going too far.
Ugh. If only she knew what he was going to be like.
Chuck had just gotten out of the taxi and was standing outside the newspaper's headquarters. It felt odd being at a place responsible for printed news. He wondered how long such places would last with the increase in internet news services.
He hadn't been told a specific person to ask for, and now that he was here, wondered what to say at the reception desk. So he walked up to the young woman at the desk. As he approached, she looked up. "Good afternoon. Do you have an appointment?"
"I'm here to meet Sarah Walker," he replied.
She didn't even look down at her notes. "Ahh. You must be Charles Bartowski."
Relieved that he was expected, he just nodded.
Someone just beyond the barrier obviously heard the exchange. A tall blonde woman walked forward, "I'm Maggie. I'll take you up."
He was helped through the barrier and taken to the elevator.
"We'll get the lift up to the third floor," Maggie told him.
He was still getting used to the English meaning, but knew that meant taking the elevator to the fourth floor in American terms.
Once inside, she said. "Are you a fan of hers?"
"I am," he replied. "Ever since I first heard her sing."
"Have you seen her before? I notice your American accent."
He smiled. "Californian, but no. Never managed to get to one of her concerts."
She grinned. "Well, you will tonight."
He just hummed.
The doors reopened and Maggie led him to where he was expected.
There she was, in an office with glass walls, sitting, talking to someone, but she obviously noticed the movement outside and turned her head.
He couldn't help himself. He froze. She was so much more beautiful in real life than the photos he'd seen of her.
He realized he must look like an idiot, standing there gawping at her. He closed his mouth and started walking again, ignoring the snigger from Maggie.
Sarah had been listening to the editor droning on about how they appreciated her music and being there with him. She was sure that he'd never listen to anything by her.
Jade Freeman, her manager, was sitting quietly. Sarah knew she was there to make sure she said nothing about her new album that shouldn't be mentioned yet, but Sarah was glad to have her there, rather than just be with this creepy middle-aged man on her own.
Of course, there was another man, though. The cameraman was setting up to take some photos. They had a couch against the wall, with copies of the newspaper in frames behind it.
She wished this had never been arranged. Her feeling of dread was growing by the minute. This was going to be a complete disaster.
Then, she noticed the sound of the elevator doors opening. She looked to see if this was who she was to meet.
The young woman who'd brought her up here, Maggie, she thought, was bringing a very tall slim man toward her. He was casually dressed, in black pants, a dark blue shirt, and a light blue jacket. She liked how he looked, but then she looked up and saw that he'd frozen and his mouth was hanging open.
Oh, god! One of those! That feeling of dread spiked.
He obviously realized what he was doing and snapped his mouth shut and continued forward, blushing more than she'd ever seen anyone before. She stood up as he walked into the office.
Maggie introduced him, "Sarah, this is Charles Bartowski."
"Chuck," he said as he reached his hand toward her.
She smiled. He was being so polite. She took his hand and squeezed. "Hi, Chuck."
"Hi, Sarah." Then he rushed out, "I've been a fan of your music for years."
She recognized his accent. "You're Californian."
He nodded. "LA, born and bred."
She didn't say that was where she lived. She didn't want him getting any ideas in his head. "Have you seen me play there?"
His blush that had been fading did the opposite. "Never had the chance."
That was an interesting way to put it. Maybe that was a topic for the restaurant.
The cameraman was waving to them, and the editor said, "Welcome, Charles. Do you read our paper?"
Chuck smiled at him. "Wouldn't be here if I hadn't."
Sarah had to stop herself from grinning. He'd avoided answering the question and she suspected he'd only recently read it.
The editor frowned slightly but then ushered them to the couch.
It was so artificial. She would've expected them to get to know each other a bit first, but guessed they were on a tight schedule.
She walked over and sat facing toward where he was going to be.
Chuck looked uncomfortable, and sat very stiffly.
She leaned toward him. "Relax, Chuck. I don't bite."
She had no idea why those were the words that came out of her mouth, but they'd worked. He smiled at her and relaxed.
The clicking of the camera made her aware that an image of them staring at each other had been captured. She groaned, imagining that appearing in the newspaper.
She sat straighter and turned to the camera. "Perhaps some of our faces?" she suggested.
Several shots were taken. She wasn't looking at Chuck, but hoped he looked good on at least one.
"Ok. That's it," the cameraman said. She had no idea of his name.
"There's a taxi waiting downstairs," Maggie said. Sarah hadn't realized she'd stay through the photoshoot.
"Good," Jade said as she stood up.
"Thank you again," the editor said as they were ushered out. Sarah was glad she hadn't needed to shake his sweaty hand again.
Jade sat in the front of the taxi, but spent the journey talking to Chuck who was sitting behind the driver. She was explaining what the rest of the day was going to be like.
Sarah was glad about that because she neither had to listen, nor talk to the man. She'd have enough of that at the restaurant.
She sat and thought about him, though.
He lived in LA, just as she did. They're never met, but that wasn't surprising. It was a huge city, after all. However, she worried that he would suggest they meet. She could just refuse, but she always tried to present a friendly, approachable image.
Sarah's attention was brought back into the car when Chuck laughed nervously and said to her manager, "I didn't expect to win and had bought a ticket for the show. I gave that to someone else when I got the notification. She'll love it. She's almost as big a fan as I am."
"Your girlfriend?" Sarah asked hopefully.
His eyes widened slightly. "Oh, no, no. She works for me. She's my assistant."
"Going on her own, then," Jade asked.
"Yeah, but we'll return to the hotel together. I don't know how safe London is at night for a lone woman."
Sarah asked Jade, "We can take them both, can't we?"
Jade nodded. "We weren't going to leave you to fend for yourself at the end of the show."
Chuck looked unsure. "That's a lot."
Sarah placed her hand on his arm. "You're our responsibility." She didn't know why she said that. He wasn't her responsibility, but maybe he was Jade's because this whole thing was her idea.
Chuck looked down at her hand and she quickly pulled it away.
"Thank you," he mumbled.
Thankfully, at that moment, they pulled up outside the fancy looking Italian restaurant they would be dining at.
As the two of them got out, Jade said, "Don't forget. We'll collect you at 6:30."
Sarah looked at her watch and inwardly groaned. Two hours to get through. She hoped the food was good.
Chuck still couldn't believe his luck.
He was spending the rest of the day with someone who's music he had enjoyed for years, and in the restaurant, it would just be the two of them.
In the few pictures he'd seen of her, she'd looked beautiful, but in person, she was absolutely stunning.
He was sure his heart stopped beating when she touched his arm. Even through the jacket and shirt, he could feel that touch searing his flesh. It was a moment of realization for him. He was falling for her as a person, not just as a singer.
He knew that was ridiculous, and probably an extension of his love for her voice and her songs, but it felt real.
The restaurant was empty. It must've been cleared because Sarah Walker was dining here. That just seemed awesome to him.
He avoided looking at her for most of the journey. When they took their seats in the restaurant, he concentrated on the menu to avoid her intense blue eyes. She seemed to do the same, though, so it didn't feel awkward.
That lasted until he realized that she was looking at him. It would be rude to continue avoiding her gaze so he looked up. He was facing the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and he gulped.
She seemed to be evaluating him, but her lips curled up slightly on seeing that. "Do I make you nervous?"
He couldn't tell her what he'd been thinking, so dodged that issue by replying, "I've never met anyone famous before."
She raised one of her eyebrows. "Living in LA?"
He suspected that she was joking, but replied, "Big city. And I don't mix in the right circles."
She nodded. "I guess."
As they seemed to be talking about LA. "How long have you lived there?" he asked.
She didn't get to answer because the server came to take their orders, which included drinks. He wasn't surprised at her avoiding alcohol, and asked for the same as her.
She asked why he wasn't drinking and he said that it was so he would be able to fully enjoy the concert. If he was honest, he needed to be sharp to avoid her finding out his feelings for her as they talked in the restaurant.
When they were on their own again, he repeated his question. It seemed a safe question, but her frown suggested otherwise. "I only found out in the taxi," he rushed out. He didn't want her thinking he was some sort of creep. "I guess Jade mentioned it because she saw I was from there."
She looked down at her hands and he thought he heard her mutter, "I'll kill her." She took a deep breath and looked up at him again. "For a year now."
As this was obviously a touchy subject, he needed to steer the conversation elsewhere. "You're probably hardly in LA. A touring artist must be on the road a lot."
She gave him a grateful smile. Unfortunately, that seemed to drain him of words.
Sarah always liked Italian food, so she was pleased with the choice of restaurant. Jade had at least gotten that right. Choosing what to eat was therefore easy, but she took her time, mainly to delay conversation. He took his time as well and she wondered if he ever ate Italian at home. Maybe that was something to talk about.
This uncomfortable situation was a reminder of how she didn't socialize. She had no real friends, just people she came into contact with for her music career. She had no regrets, but it did make her feel completely out of place in a situation like this.
She put down the menu and looked across the table at Chuck. Pushing all her doubts about him aside, she saw an attractive man of around her own age, maybe a couple of years older. His hair was a bit wild. He'd obviously tried to tame it, but failed. It wasn't a complete mess, but definitely not controlled, either.
She'd already noticed his hazel eyes before. They were to be avoided if possible. There was an intensity to them when locked with hers. Jade told her that was true of her blue eyes, but she didn't really know. However, she found it a bit unsettling when she faced it herself.
He lowered his menu and looked at her. He seemed to scan her face before locking eyes with her. That didn't make her tense, though, because he visibly gulped. Clearly, she made him nervous, but she nearly smirked and had to ask.
He didn't answer the question, but what he said was interesting. Before she knew it, she was pulled into talking about LA, the one topic she wanted to avoid! Of course, he asked her how long she'd lived there.
She was spared from replying for a few moments as they had to place their orders. For a drink she chose sparkling water, not wanting any alcohol before performing. He chose the same. "Why don't you have something stronger?"
"What? And miss enjoying your performance to the max?"
That surprised her. "You really like my music?"
He nodded. "I've been a fan since I first heard your songs, three years ago."
"But you've not seen me before?"
"Never had the chance," he replied. He then repeated the question about her in LA. That was Jade's fault and she cursed her under her breath, but she did answer his question.
She waited in dread for him to suggest meeting back there, but he obviously sensed her not wanting to talk about the place. His comment, steering away from the topic pleased her. It made her like him more than she had before and she smiled at him.
His reaction was visible, and audible. He didn't freeze per say, but he just looked at her lips and then seemed at a loss for words.
Her own reaction to that was a bit surprising. She found it endearing. "We can eat in silence, if you want, but we are here for quite a while."
That seemed to snap him out of whatever he was thinking. He blushed cutely. He looked down at the closed menu in front of him, and apologized. "I'm sorry. You're so much prettier than the photos I've seen before."
She was surprised at both the honesty and the words. "Surely they make me look better than I really am."
He looked back up. "They make you look how they want you to look. I guess it's what they think will attract people to buy your music."
She was intrigued at him preferring her with only light makeup, but stopped herself from asking. That just sounded vain. However, she had to check something. "And those images aren't what drew you in?"
He shook his head and smiled sheepishly. "Beautiful though you are, it was your music that did that. I didn't even know what you looked like when I heard and liked your single three years ago."
She liked that he was attracted to her music, but couldn't resist a tease. "And my pictures didn't put you off?"
He chuckled. "No, they didn't."
She liked his laugh. "Tell me about yourself, Chuck Bartowski."
He looked surprised to be asked. "I'm just an IT guy."
His dismissive comment drew her in. He wasn't trying to impress her, but that did. "Just an IT guy, huh? One with an assistant who he brings with him to the UK for a business trip."
He sighed. "Ok, I run an IT company in LA and we're testing the British interest in our product."
She was now very curious. "Why didn't you say that first?"
He shrugged. "I'm not here to try to impress you."
She sat back. This wasn't expected. "You're very different."
He snorted. "So I'm told! Probably why I've had no girlfriends since college!"
That surprised her. "You haven't?"
He chuckled and replied. "Good thing this isn't a real date, huh? I would've lost all credibility with that statement."
She looked at him more carefully. She liked what she saw. He was an attractive guy. She particularly liked those eyes she'd seen before, and his lips were nice, too. That unruly hair called out for fingers to run through it. His personality also seemed attractive. He was obviously successful, but modest. The only thing that seemed wrong about him was his self-esteem, or lack of it.
"Have no girls been interested?" she asked, seriously doubting it.
"No one I'd want to date," he replied.
"Ahh. Choosy," she said.
He sighed. "I tend to throw myself into my work, so I only meet anyone through that. I won't date people who work for me, or clients. That's not right."
She looked at this man of principles. She liked that about him. "So very different from the men I meet."
"We shouldn't be talking about me," he said.
That also was so unlike most men that had been interested in her in the past. They'd want to expound on the wonderful things about themselves that showed just what a catch they were. She had to remind herself that Chuck Bartowski wasn't here because he was trying to gain her affections. He was just a fan of her music.
She relaxed, realizing that she not only didn't feel threatened by him, but that she would probably enjoy the afternoon.
She buried the stray thought that meeting him in LA wouldn't be a bad thing.
It didn't take Chuck long to realize that Sarah Walker was not a talker. She was able to write and sing all those amazing lyrics that reached into your soul, but she was definitely not a conversationalist.
It was a bit of a surprise, but he found it intriguing. Was there a reason for that or was I just the real person inside the performer?
On the other hand, she was good at drawing him out, getting him to talk about himself. That was something he normally shied away from, but she really seemed interested, and he couldn't refuse her.
However, as she'd run out of questions, he'd ask one himself.
"Sarah, you've asked a lot about me. Can I ask something about you?"
Her relaxed expression disappeared and she visibly tensed. However, he pushed ahead, hoping this wouldn't upset her.
"I know a lot of performers who seem to be extroverts on stage are actually quite shy people. Peter Gabriel springs to mind. I wondered if you're the same, as you're quite quiet and seem reluctant to talk about yourself. Are you?"
Sarah stared at him for a while, and he wondered if the question was a mistake. However, she didn't look upset. However, she said nothing for nearly a minute.
"I've not been asked that before. Probably because interviewers are told to only ask about my music."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," he said.
"You weren't briefed beforehand," she replied. Then, she turned it back on him. "It's interesting that you ask it, when you were reluctant to talk about yourself, too."
She was right about that. "I don't like receiving praise, so try to avoid getting any. I'm not shy, though." Then he thought about that. "Well, maybe around beautiful women, but that's for a different reason."
She said nothing, but that raised eyebrow spoke for her.
"I'm sure you can understand why," he muttered.
She surprised him with her reply, "You don't think much of yourself, do you?"
He reached for his water and took a drink. "You're good at avoiding answering questions by asking yours, but I'd already said I shouldn't have asked mine."
The smile that appeared on her face was lovely. "I like you, Chuck Bartowski. You're inquisitive, but not pushy."
That made him feel he'd achieved something.
A/N: No cliffhanger? What's wrong with me? Just breaking the story into chapters.
So, a different sort of first meet for Chuck and Sarah.
Not sure why, but all the music I'm enjoying now is by individual female singers or bands with female vocalists. I still like a lot of other music, but find myself mostly listening to the following:
- London Grammar (Hannah Reid)
- Linkin Park (Emily Armstrong)
- Alyosha (Olena Topolia)
- Panic Room & Luna Rossa (Anne-Marie Helder)
- Taylor Swift