Four Player Ruse
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: When a fake blind date goes wrong, Sarah Walker, president of a major frozen food developer, finds her life inextricably entwined with Chuck Bartowski, one of her company's top food researchers. Contracts, bad behavior, idiocy, madcappery...and maybe even love follows. AU. Charah and Ellie/Devon.
A/N: I appreciate the attention y'all are giving this new piece. Some of you seem confused already... Heheh.
Disclaimer: I don't own the TV show Chuck or its characters.
She'd flown too close to the sun again.
A wry smirk crossed her face as she popped open the fridge door to grab a bottled coffee drink off of the shelf, reveling in the cold against her hand for a moment. She would get the mocha one this time, because everything sucked.
Screw her stupid waistline. What did it matter?
And now Joyce was on her ass about her wasting time dating men with no future prospects. As if the only reason for dating was to secure her future in another rich family instead of just having fun. What was it, the eighteen-hundreds?
At least Joyce didn't give enough of a shit about her to stick her on blind dates. She was letting her niece do whatever as long as Crawford Group's stocks continued to stay healthy. Well, she was complaining about it but wasn't exactly putting her foot down.
None of that mattered now, however. Because the…thing…she'd had with Thomas was done.
And damn it but she was going to let herself be pissed and sad about it, even if it hadn't been serious.
Her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket as she moved through the convenience store and she moved the carrying basket to her left hand to retrieve the device.
It was Chuck.
"Yeah, bud?"
"You are in so much freaking trouble."
"Am I?" She was so glad to hear his familiar, kind, supportive voice in this moment.
"Yes! Well, no. Not really. But d'you know what friggin' happened to me today when I got to work?"
"The espresso machine in the lobby coffee shop was broken again?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
She smiled as he said, "No, but ohmigosh that sucked so bad that day. I needed that espresso hard."
"Yeah, because you drank too much whiskey the night before."
"That was your fault."
"Because I'm better at drinking games than you are? Okay, I'll take it."
"Shut up. It wasn't the espresso machine. I went to get on the elevator and who the fuck do you think was standing on that same freaking elevator?"
"Lucy Lawless."
"I wish. It was the president of the company, aka Sarah friggin' Walker. And her dad. And some…weirdly built, super hot guy. Maybe some kind of assistant, I dunno. He's not important. What's important is HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?!"
"Oh shit." She winced. "You've got bad luck, huh?"
"Bad lu—Ellie! She just saw my face last night and wants to marry me. Or at least, she wants to marry your boyfriend who she thinks is me. How the hell did I manage to catch that elevator at that specific moment?"
Ellie frowned. "He isn't my boyfriend."
"Oh right. Sorry. You guys are being chill and are just dating but aren't—"
"No, I mean it's over."
There was a long pause.
"B-But anyway, what happened? Did she recognize you?" Ellie hurried on, not really wanting to have a whole big discussion about all of that.
"Hold on. It's over? As in you two aren't dating anymore?"
"I would rather not see him ever again, actually."
"Wh-What? Why? What happened? What'd he do? Do I have to go kick his ass?"
"Yes," she said plainly, grabbing a box of Vitamin C packets as she trapped her phone to her ear with her shoulder. Always up the Vitamin C after heartbreak. "I found out from someone who's friends of someone else who knows him that he's been going out on dates with this rich bitch from a banking family. After this whole production not to go on a blind date, he was hooking up with someone else anyway. Trashy asshole was two-timing. So if you can go kill him actually…"
"What the fuck? After he put us—me specifically—in this awful mess of a situation, he goes and dates some other chick behind your back?! Fuck him!"
Ellie smiled a slightly watery smile. "I love you. You know that, right?"
"Love you too, but I'd actually like to kill that guy. I'm in some deep shit here, El. And wait wait…hold on, I'm really sorry, Ellie. I'm sorry that happened to you, that he did that to you."
"It's fine. Wouldn't be the first, likely won't be the last," she drawled flatly. "Men suck. You realize that, right?"
"We're kinda the worst."
"Thank you. Even if you're just saying that because you feel bad for me."
He chuckled. "Listen, as bad as it might feel right now—whether it's 'cause you actually liked him or if it's a hurt pride thing, both of which I get—you're Ellie fuggin' Crawford. You're gonna be okay. And I got your back."
"I know, you sweetheart. And I've got your back with this stupid…mess Thomas got you into. That ass." She winced, realizing the truth of the situation. "And I really…didn't help at all, did I? I'm sorry I forced you into that situation. I was awful for it."
"It's okay, but where the hell is my VX24?"
She cracked up at that. "I'm pulling my strings, I'm gonna get it to you, I swear."
"I'm teasing."
"No, I'm really getting it for you. A deal's a deal. And after all this shit, I really want to get it for you. 'Kay?"
"Okay. Fine. But maybe you can…do one more thing for me."
"What's that?"
"Make it so that I don't have to deal with the president at my job wanting to marry me aka the guy she thinks is Thomas Baxter? Whatever you gotta do. Please."
She sighed. "Okay. I don't have a plan yet, but I'll get one. If I can accomplish it without having to talk to Two-Timing Tom, all the better. Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
"Okay. Thank you."
When she hung up, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling and let out a long sigh. This was what she deserved she supposed, for forcing Chuck to help Thomas in such a dishonest way. She actually felt bad for Sarah Walker.
If the date really went as badly as Chuck insisted it had, she didn't quite understand the other woman, because why the hell would you wanna then marry that person? But she felt bad for her.
And she also knew that while it was letting Thomas off for being a coward and not talking to President Walker himself… the most important thing was for Chuck to get out of this bind he shouldn't be in in the first place. If letting Thomas out of jail free was a consequence of getting an innocent man out of trouble, she'd do it in a heartbeat, because Chuck was her best friend. Her brother.
As she turned the corner to get some cookies or something else sweet, she felt something hard run into her legs and gasped, jumping back. A kid sprawled onto the floor and began to cry buckets.
"I'm sorry, are you hurt?!" she asked quickly, looking down.
"I told you not to run in here, Katie!" The mom scurried around the other corner. "I'm so sorry, miss! And—" The other woman gasped, looking down at Ellie's cream-colored pencil skirt. "I'm so sorry! Katie! Apologize for ruining the nice lady's skirt!"
Ellie looked down at the nice skirt and shut her eyes in exhaustion when she saw it. There was a black line down her skirt, clearly from a marker. And when she opened her eyes again to look at "Katie", the young girl had a marker with its cap off in her hand. Black and likely permanent. There went this nice skirt, she supposed.
"I'm sorry-hee-heeeee," Katie cried.
God damn it, the catastrophes were never-ending.
}o{
He chuckled at the text on his phone.
Sarah, with her nonsense. Yet again.
"What chip flavor are you getting? If it has sour cream in the title I'll kill you. BBQ? Death. Anything spicy like that jalapeno shit? You get a crown."
He decided not to even respond and let her sweat for a bit. Few things made that woman sweat, even when they sparred in the top floor executive gym at Ice Q Foods HQ. But snacks? She'd sweat over snacks for sure. She was a snack queen. Which made sense, considering her life's work.
Grabbing a bag of sour cream and onion chips, he chuckled again and put them back. He might die before he had a chance to yell "JUST KIDDING!" and show her the actual bag he bought. He'd rather live to see thirty. So instead, he snagged the thick jalapeño flavored chips he knew she could eat a whole bag of in one sitting and stuffed them under his arm.
They were planning a long night of work tonight at Sarah's condo and that meant lots of coffee and snacks. She had the coffee already, and he would provide the snacks.
But he froze when he heard the sound of a sobbing child.
Concerned, he furrowed his brow, fixed his glasses over his nose and looked around, walking away from the frozen foods section. He stopped as he peered over a rack of Slim Jims and saw a small girl, about five or six, sitting on the floor with her legs out in front of her, a black marker open and clutched in her palm. She had big teardrops running down her face as the most stunning woman he thought he'd ever seen in his life knelt in front of her.
"Listen to me, hon," she was saying. "Stop crying for a second, okay? It's just a skirt. You don't need to cry. But I wanna tell you something."
The little girl nodded, sniffling. The mom stood to the side, clearly embarrassed.
"You can't run around with markers uncapped like this. Especially where there are other people, right?" Devon stared at her green eyes, the way they sparkled with warmth as she looked up into the girl's face. She gently took the marker from the child's grasp and held it up. "It's dangerous. For you and other people. If you promise not to do it again, I'll show you a super cool trick, though. You promise?"
The girl seemed very intrigued as she nodded.
"Watch closely."
Much to Devon's shock, and clearly the mom's as well, the beautiful and clearly well-off woman put the marker to her skirt and made the awful line into a stick figure waving. "Taa daaaaa! Cool trick, huh?"
"What is it?"
She looked almost offended at the child's question. "It's…a guy waving at you. See? His legs, his little arm and the hand and the smile…Never mind. Point is, don't run with things in your hands in crowded places. You might ruin somebody's expensive skirt or get hurt."
Devon smiled down at the scene, without realizing how hard his heart was beating.
"Let me pay for you to get the skirt cleaned, please," the mom was saying, but he kept his gaze on the young woman with the ruined skirt instead.
"No, c'mon. It's fine. I drew on it more than she did." She handed the marker back to the mom. "There."
Before Devon could do or say anything, she straightened to her full height, went to the register, handed the cashier cash with a "keep the change", and rushed out.
}o{
She didn't realize she'd left her car keys on the counter until she was already across the street.
Cursing, she spun on her heel to go back, and slammed hard into someone who'd been walking behind her. She nearly fell considering the heels she wore, barely catching herself.
"Sorry!" she rushed out. "I wasn't look where I w—"
She froze as she straightened up and actually got a look at the man she'd bashed into.
He'd somehow caught the coffee drink that went flying out of her fingers when they made eye contact, preventing the glass from shattering all over the sidewalk. And now he was offering it back to her.
But dear God, the man was so immediately and disarmingly sexy she almost couldn't catch her breath.
"Oh," she breathed.
"You all right?" he asked.
"Shit." She shut her eyes and shook her head. "I-I mean, yes. Sorry. Thanks for catching the…coffee. Um…" She took it from him. "Thank you."
"Anytime. Have a nice day." He paused for a moment, with his cute glasses and the gorgeous blond hair swooping back from a side part and the nice suit that he filled out so perfectly like an Adonis or something. And then he stepped around her and went on his merry way.
"Oh," she breathed again as he went. He was already on the other side of the street when she realized: "I didn't ask for his number. SHIT!" A woman passing by turned and looked at her in shock. "Sorry."
}o{
She didn't blame him for the utter shock in his face.
"You're joking."
"Chuck, please?"
"You don't get to say please like I'm just going to fold and do what you want because you said please."
"What?"
"I'm not doing it. That's the point I'm making." He cut his hand through the air. And then he pushed at the coffee she'd bought him so that it was further away from him, probably because she'd bought it for him to ask him to do this favor.
A message that he wouldn't be bought this time like he was last time.
Ellie sighed. "Wouldn't it be easier for everyone if you went to her as Thomas, told her to forget about you, told her you refuse to marry, and then that'll be it? No one needs to know about lying—I know, I heard it while I was saying it," she rushed, wincing as he sent her an annoyed look.
"This whole thing has gone on for too long already. I shouldn't have gone in the first place. Now she's trying to marry Thomas Baxter, only it isn't Thomas Baxter, it's me. This isn't how we should treat people."
She looked around the coffee shop for a few long seconds. "It isn't. And I know that. But I had my assistant look for Thomas because I…uh…deleted his phone number. Maybe a tad bit…premature, but I was pissed. Only you're all caught up in this and…" She winced. "…she can't find him. Which means he left town. I'm sure he's in hiding from the Walker woman and probably… mostly his meddling parents."
"I don't see how any of this involves me. I did my one Douchebag 101 course that night."
"Mmm and you failed it."
"I did not fail. There was no way to win. She doesn't care who this guy is, she just wants his connections." He made a face at her and she made it back. "I just want to be disconnected from the whole business, okay? Please?"
"I can do that."
"Good."
Ellie leaned her chin in her palm, inwardly prepping herself for his response. "After you go meet her this one last time."
"What?!"
"Thomas isn't dealing with it, so we have to."
"No. We don't. You do. You started all of this."
She pouted a little. "I just got cheated on. …kind of. Now you're going to make me do this on my own?"
"As opposed to me, who got bribed into this situation, doing it on my own?" he asked, incredulous.
"Keyword is bribed. It's not like we threatened your life. It was a bribe. You could've not accepted the VX24."
Chuck full-on glared. "Now we're putting this on me. Great. Thanks."
"I'll get you all the accessories for the VX24 if you meet with her one more time to tell her you aren't marrying her."
"You are somethin' else, Eleanor Faye Crawford. Somethin'. Else. I really cannot believe you're trying to get me to wear that ridiculous crap and fix my hair insane and fool this poor girl again. What do we gain from this?"
"Nobody gets in trouble. Nobody has to admit they lied. And, um…" She shrugged, leaning in closer. "I never have to contact that asshole Thomas ever again."
"Why would you have to if I didn't meet her? Why can't you sit down with her, let her know you set somebody you know up to go on the blind date and ruin it because you're then boyfriend Thomas Baxter was a fucking coward and you super regret it and don't worry, Sarah Walker, president of Ice Q Foods, because I broke up with the jerk. That's how you end it. Righteous woman anger."
Ellie narrowed her eyes at him. "Righteous? Woman? Anger? Care to explain?"
He blinked at her, sipped his drink, and muttered, "No." She stared at him for a while and he squirmed. "Fine. I just mean that there's like…a sister code. Really go in on how Thomas wronged you and she'll be like, 'oh wow, so this jerk wronged both of us. Maybe I'm not so mad at this chick anymore.' Sorry, I didn't mean chick. I meant…grown-ass woman."
She laughed and reached out to gently swat his arm. "You make it sound like an easy thing to do. Look, I have Sarah Walker's number. Call her up, ask her to meet you, and then break it off. Tell her you don't want to get married. The end."
"From my cell?" He let out a laugh. "Great, so she can cross-reference the Ice Q Foods records and find that her employee Charles Bartowski has the same phone number as Thomas Baxter? Perfect idea."
Gritting her teeth, she wrinkled up her nose and mumbled, "That's a good point. Maybe a payphone then. I'll pay for it."
Chuck curled his lip. "I have a job. I can pay for a phone call from a payphone my friggin' self."
"So you'll do it!" she gasped in excitement.
"H-Hey! No! No, I didn't say I would. I'm not doing it!"
"Okay…" She was getting him to do it. She felt it in her bones.
"I'm not."
"Okay." She shrugged.
}o{
Chuck grumbled the whole way to the restaurant Sarah suggested they meet at when he called from the payphone. She'd asked what the number he was calling from was and he didn't know how to tell her without revealing stuff she shouldn't know.
Honestly, he was waffling between doing what Ellie asked him to do to keep Thomas the hell out of her life…and just giving this poor woman the complete and utter truth, even if it meant he'd get the most shit for it since he was the one here in person.
He fished his phone out as the hostess sat him at the table Sarah had reserved, right by a nice window that overlooked the city. He thanked the waitress for pouring him water, then pulled up Ellie's number.
"I said I'm NOT doing this right? AM NOT?"
She responded almost immediately. "You are my BEST FRIEND!"
"I am a GIANT SAP. Someday I'm gonna stop letting people like you run me over."
"But today isn't that day?"
"Clearly not." He added a mad face.
But then he heard heels approaching. He looked up as he heard, "So you have two phones, huh?"
Sarah Walker stood before him once again, looking every bit the goddess she'd looked like that night on their blind date. Not their blind date. Her blind date with Thomas Baxter.
"W-What?" he asked dumbly.
She pointed to his phone, and then to her phone which she held to her ear. "I was trying to call…apparently not this phone you're holding. So you must have two. Lemme see it."
She stepped in close, took his phone from him, and began to tap away on it. Then her phone rang.
Chuck gasped, reaching up to snatch his phone from her hand. "Excuse me. I did not give you permission to do that."
Sarah Walker looked almost perplexed as she looked down into his face. "But we're getting married. Shouldn't I be able to reach my husband?" She dropped her phone back into the small purse hanging from her shoulder. "What's with the eye makeup tonight?"
"I…wear it sometimes. You have something to say about that, too?"
She smirked, squinting at him. "No. Why would I? Wear what you want."
He nearly got up to grab her chair for her, but he remembered that wasn't something his version of Thomas Baxter did. So he stayed sitting as she moved to sit in her own chair.
"And for the record, I'm not going to marry you," he said adamantly. "I met you that one night! That's it! And you want to get married? After one meeting?"
"You must've liked me enough to suggest we get a room and have sex." She shrugged. "And after only meeting that one night, literal minutes earlier."
"Look, that's different. Okay? I'm not an arranged marriages kind of guy. Especially not to appease my parents for-for business reasons. That's not my thing. So I-I just wanted to tell you that in person. To your face. Because it's…the polite thing to do. Humane. And all that."
She just kept smirking at him. "So you're being polite and humane dragging me out here to one of my favorite restaurants to reject me. Thanks."
"It's not like that. And is it really rejection? Neither of us agreed to marriage that first date, because…well…bad things happened and who freaking expects marriage after a date like that?" He shrugged a bit wildly, because this was making him feel kind of nuts. "So it doesn't count as a rejection. I'm sorry I dragged you out here. I didn't know this was your favorite restaurant. But the Walkers and Baxters aren't going to merge, at least not through me. So…forget the marriage talk. Okay? Sorry. Hope you find someone nice an' stuff. Good luck. Bye."
Chuck climbed up to his feet, grabbed his leather jacket with studs from the back of the chair, and slung it over his shoulder, striding away from her towards the stairs that led down to the exit onto the LA streets.
But before he could start down the steps, a strong hand grabbed his arm and held him back. She pulled to turn him so that he was facing her. And he was forced to look down into her face that was so close to his.
How were her eyes real, he found himself wondering? So blue but with flecks of grey and even a sparkly sort of azure shade throughout…
She searched his eyes with her magical blues.
And she seemed almost a little offended he wouldn't marry her, that he was walking away. Boy, how was someone this entitled? Was she sheltered, too?
Maybe it was both.
"Is it really that repugnant to you? Am I? That you wouldn't want to marry me? Or even marry into my family? Let's just get married."
She shrugged.
She SHRUGGED.
Chuck gaped down at her, in awe. "Is marriage a joke to you? You think you can just ask some random weirdo douche to marry you? Some crazy guy who shows up at the table for a blind date and acts like a total tool and has some other violent dude trying to kill him for allegedly sleeping with his girlfriend? That's someone you wanna put a ring on? I mean, you're just gonna marry anyone? Lady, phew…"
"Not anyone," she challenged, shaking her head. Then she looked him right in his eyes. "I wanna marry you. I met you and now I wanna marry you. It isn't a joke, but for me it's pretty simple."
He couldn't help gazing at her. She was this completely stunning woman with more power in her pinky than he could shake a stick at, with her prestige and her class and her endless style, her poise, and frankly, so far as he could tell in the short period of time she'd been president, she was so much better than the prick who'd been president before. She actually seemed to give a shit about more than lining her pockets even further. And somehow she wanted to marry him. Or, really, the guy she thought was Thomas Baxter, and at the end of the day, she knew him and not Thomas Baxter. So she wanted to marry him, Chuck Bartowski, even if she didn't know he was Chuck Bartowski.
It was just…insane.
He was confused and thrown off by how adamant and genuine she was about this.
"I-I'm not just marrying some random woman because she wants me to. I'm sorry, Miss Walker."
"Fine. We'll go on a bunch of dates. Or-or give me a few months. You can learn more about me. And then we can get married. Once you learn that I have a lot to offer."
Her blue eyes sparkled. She knew absolutely that she was correct in what she was saying.
He couldn't even blame her for the candid lack of modesty.
"I…know you do," he heard himself breathing.
Sarah Walker smiled a little at that, tilting her chin so that their faces were even closer. "I'm very, very good at…" She leaned in so that her lips were close to his ear, standing on her tiptoes. "…many things."
Chuck took a step back, the blood leaving his face. The images cascaded through his mind, he lost his breath…and he lost his footing. Because the staircase was right behind him, and he'd forgotten about it.
And now he was falling backwards—
Arms wrapped around his midsection and in a flash, he was swung around, sitting on the ground by the railing, with her kneeling over him, chest pressed hard into his, her eyes wide.
She was…warm.
And strong.
And her face was insanely beautiful up close like this. And she'd likely just saved his life when, frankly, she'd been the reason he'd nearly toppled headfirst down a steep staircase to his death.
She seemed to collect herself before he could. Their faces still close, she asked softly, "Just what did you think I meant?"
"I…don't know," he whispered.
Her smile sparkled. "See? It's that right there. The honesty."
"Um…w-what did you mean?"
She merely kept smiling at him, her teeth showing a little this time and those blue eyes crackling.
"W-Well, f-forget it. Okay? I'm not marrying you." He grabbed her by her shoulders and adamantly but gently shifted her off of him to sit on the tile floor at his side, and he climbed up to his feet. In spite of the role he was playing, he reached down to help her up as well.
He missed the slightly doe-eyed look she gave him as he brushed a bit of dust or dirt off of the hip of her little black dress.
"And I don't wanna date you, either. I need you to lose my number…ssss. Numbersss." He'd nearly forgotten she had two of them now. Damn it. Why'd he have to take his phone out while waiting for her? "Okay?" he asked for confirmation, leaning down a bit to look her in the eye. "I don't wanna do this again. I don't wanna see you again. Find someone else to marry."
Sarah Walker peered at him quietly as he finally turned and rushed down the stairs, away from her, wondering if she wasn't suffering from some sort of mental breakdown from overwork, or she'd merely cracked and was nutso now. Or was she really that desperate for a good connection into a rich family?
If she kept pursuing this, which he was sure he absolutely shut down now, she'd discover just how NOT-RICH his family really was. How not-rich he was. He'd be in such deep deep shit.
He pushed his hand through his hair, mussing it a little. Ellie'd be pissed the work she taught him how to do to mold this faux hawk was getting ruined, but he'd done his job. Everyone was off the hook now. Including Sarah. She could find someone worthy of her beauty and wealth and family legacy and…her crazy.
Maybe the only thing he was worthy of was the crazy….
He snorted to himself as the crosswalk began beeping for him to cross. But as he crossed, he glanced up. And how in the hell was his life like this, but there was Jill Roberts walking in the other direction, right at him, swinging her purse like she hadn't a care in the world.
Chuck's whole body spasmed as he crumbled in on himself, spinning on his heel and holding up his jacket to block his face as he ran in a half-crouch away from the woman who might recognize him even with the weird hair and eye makeup.
He should have seen this moment coming after the week he'd freaking had, considering he'd been crushed on the woman crossing the street towards him for years now. Since Stanford. A very one-sided hopeless crush that had been doomed from the start. And yet, he'd still clung to it because he enjoyed punishment.
At least that was how Ellie put it.
But you couldn't help what your heart wanted. That was how he put it.
How the hell was she out here, at this crosswalk, in this moment?
He needed to escape. He needed to get the hell out of here. And the only thing he could think to do so that Jill didn't recognize his tall, gangly body even in the unfamiliar clothes was to grab the nearest handle of the nearest vehicle with very tinted windows, rip it open, and dive inside of it.
Was it insane?
Yes.
Did he owe this person an apology for jumping in their car like a serial killer while they were stopped at the light? Absolutely.
But he'd take a literal stranger who might call the police on him over what he saw when he lifted his gaze to the person sitting in the seat beside his.
Because there sat a wide-eyed Sarah Walker, one leg crossed over the other, full lips parted in surprise.
}o{
Part of her genuinely thought she'd never see this man again.
And she'd been admittedly dwelling over what he'd said, that bit about losing his number(s) kind of stinging, and the fact that his eyes were very nice to look at and also his nose did a cute little nubby, turned up thing at the end that she sort of wanted to poke with her finger or something…
When he dove into the backseat with her…and now he was gaping at her as though she'd been the one to dive into his car.
"Uh, 'scuse me, the hell are you—" Devon started to demand, ready to do his bodyguard shtick, but she held up a hand to stop him, not taking her eyes off of Thomas Baxter, the gangly freaking weirdo sitting next to her.
"…What are you doing?" she asked him quietly.
"I…um…saw you guys…sitting here waiting for the light to turn and I really wanted to…" He looked over as the last of the pedestrians filled across the street in front of the SUV. "OH!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her body towards his, ducking down low in the seat as if blocking himself from…something. She turned to try to look but he flattened his hand on her cheek and forced her to look back at him. His face was incredibly close. And even in her utter confusion, she still wanted to tap the end of his nose with her finger. "I'm telling you that I…definitely can't…I can't marry you. Right."
"…You made that clear. Why'd you get into my car to tell me the same thing?"
"TO EMPHASIZE!" he said loudly, ducking even lower, his face dangerously close to her breasts. "I want to make it clear, Miss Walker."
Was he absolutely batshit nuts?
"…Oookay."
He breathed out a sigh of relief, let go of her, and sat up again, straightening his leather jacket with its ridiculous studs. "Yeah. So you just…remember that. …Missy."
She heard Devon gasp from the front as she tilted her head, her jaw clenching. "Missy?"
"Nope. Erm, not that," he rushed out, pressing his back against the door behind him, brown eyes wide.
"You told me you wanted me to lose your phone numbers. You don't want to see me again. You want me to leave you alone and you don't want to date or marry me. So you climbed into my car to emphasize that. …why?"
"To get it through to you. I want you to really and truly understand it. I'm not marrying you. Okay g'bye."
He moved to get out and she said in a louder voice, "I am definitely gonna marry you."
She felt Devon's eyes on her in the rearview mirror. He probably thought he needed to take her straight to a psychiatrist. But at least she didn't go around jumping in people's fucking cars…so…
Thomas Baxter froze. And then he slowly turned to look at her.
"What?"
Sarah cleared her throat. "Tell me exactly what it is about me that you dislike so much. That you aren't even willing to give me a chance to prove myself."
"Oh." He seemed very uncomfortable. "I'm—I don't—"
"You seemed so confident before. So tell me."
"It…It's everything." He waved his hand towards her dismissively. "All of it."
"That's a piss-poor and fucked up response. Give me details." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, Mr. Baxter. I can take it."
He seemed like he probably regretted climbing into this car so suddenly and she didn't care, she wanted his answer.
"Fine. You say very…weird things. A lot of weird things."
"Weird?"
"Yes. Red wine doesn't go with ice cream? I mean, come on."
"You're not gonna marry me over that? This from the guy who called himself, and I quote, 'a hot body'?"
She heard Devon choke a bit in the front seat again. And was it just her or was there a slight sparkle of humor in Thomas's eyes for a moment. "I was nervous," he tried. "And what about when you agreed to get a room together?"
Sarah let out a laugh in disbelief. "You're the one who suggested it in the first place!"
"Whooooaaa oookkkayyyy," her best friend crooned from the front seat.
"But you were very weird for agreeing to it."
"Oh my GOD."
"And also you're way too pretty so there's that." She gaped at him. He squirmed in discomfort. "This. All this. That." He gestured to her with that circular hand movement, making a face with his lip curled, and at the 'that' he gave her a tap on her nose with the tip of his pointer finger. "Way, way too pretty. It's too much."
Sarah furrowed her brow, not really sure how offended she should be by that. "What?"
"You know people who are so pretty you think they're a hologram? HoloWalker over here… Help me Obi-Wal-ker-Nobi, you're my only hope." He hunched forward and tugged the back of his jacket over his head like a hood, reaching out his finger like he was pressing a button, looking left and right.
This time Devon snorted and rocked forward, like he was trying to suppress the laugh.
Sarah sent him a glare in the rearview mirror and he cleared his throat, diverting his eyes. Asshole.
"I am not a hologram."
"You could be. With all that…obnoxious pretty." What did any of this even mean? "So…I'll be leaving. Yeah." He opened the door and clambered out, yelling, "HEY, GREEN LIGHT MEANS GO!", slamming the door, and literally sprinting across the street on the crosswalk.
"So, um…not to kill the mood but what the fuck was that?" Devon Woodcomb asked from the driver's seat.
"That was…" The man she was going to marry. She didn't know it was possible for him to be even more nuts, but he'd proven her wrong, and now she liked him even more. He was so blissfully himself. As weird as himself was. He didn't hide anything, he didn't put on airs.
But she shook herself then and leaned up towards the front to get closer to Devon as he drove them back to the building where she lived. "What's that mean anyway? That I'm too pretty. He said I'm too much."
"It means what it sounds like. You're too pretty." He shrugged like that explained everything.
"How is someone too pretty? Isn't being super pretty good? I mean, when I grew into this…" She gestured at her body and then at her face. "…and figured out how to make these Walker features work for me," she ignored Devon's massive eye roll, "it was a good thing. It meant I could get places other people wouldn't get to. It means power. What's so bad about pretty?"
"It sounds like he doesn't mind that you're pretty. He minds that you're too pretty and he finds that obnoxious."
"It doesn't make sense!" she barked in his ear. She sat back against the seat again, pouting a little.
"Maybe it's like a…erm…self-consciousness thing. Maybe it makes him think you're out of his league. Huh? Yeah? Did I hit the nail on the head?"
"I think you've been hit on the head," she grumbled, still pouting out of her window at the scenes of LA whizzing past.
"Uh, lemme counter that with you have been hit on the head, my friend. If you really mean to marry that guy. He is nuts," he chuckled. "Certifiably."
"I know," she breathed, a small smile on her face. It was dangerously cute. She could work with honest and dangerously cute all damn day long. "But apparently I'm weird and too pretty."
"I can confirm, you're both."
"Oh shut the hell up, Ken doll."
"What?" he chuckled.
"You don't get to talk, you're built like Adonis and your face is all handsome and chiseled and somehow the glasses make you even more obnoxiously hot. So don't talk to me about too pretty. You're too perfect yourself."
Devon snorted. "I don't think I heard that weirdo say you're too perfect…Ah! OW! I'm DRIVING!"
She'd leaned forward to smack the back of his head as he drove.
And she didn't care if he crashed because he deserved the damn smack.
"Do you want to die?! Do that again!" he snapped over his shoulder.
But she was already in her own world, staring out of the window, wondering how to change the mind of a truly strange, but intriguing, cute guy. Maybe marriage was off the table for now, but what if she was actually starting to like him? Sure, Thomas Baxter being in the picture would make her dad lay off for a bit, but there were other reasons she wasn't quite ready to give up just yet. And those reasons were making her heart race even now.
A/N: Heheheheheheheheh.
Thanks for reading.
-SC