#bitchtowski

Sarah just giggled, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I said I didn’t mind holding her after she just ate so I sort of asked for it, didn’t I?” Chuck didn’t entirely feel like she did ask for it. It was like Clara had aimed for anything but the cloth. But he couldn’t blame her; she was so damn cute and had so much of her mom’s personality already. “Though I will say, I didn’t expect to be wiping baby barf off of my shirt today when I put it on this morning,” she added good-naturedly.

Ellie snorted, walking around them to grab a few paper towels from the nearby roll and handing them to Chuck. “That’s not something I can say.”

Sarah giggled again and took the towels from Chuck as he inexpertly continued trying to help her. “It’s okay, I got it.” She moved over to the sink and cleaned it herself, dabbing with wet towels until there was a wet splotch on her sweater and no trace of Clara’s spit-up.

“How are my ladies doin’?” Devon asked, walking around into the kitchen.

“Oh, we’re great, Devon, thanks,” Chuck drawled.

“Oh. Sorry, bro,” the surgeon chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

Chuck rolled his eyes teasingly as Ellie looked up from making faces at her squirming daughter. “Sarah took one for the team.”

“Aw man! Barf jet made its landing, huh? She likes bright colors.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Devon. Stop.”

“What? It’s a good theory!” he said defensively, holding his hands out. “She’s only ever barfed on us when we’re wearing bright colors. Never when we’re in darks and pastels. I think she hates pink the most.”

“Remind me not to wear pink, huh, Chuck?” Sarah said.

“Don’t play into my husband’s weird-ass theories, Sarah,” Chuck’s sister said, switching Clara’s weight to her other arm. “Wear whatever color you want to wear.”

“How does she feel about stripes?” Chuck asked, and Ellie rushed over to clamp her hand over Devon’s mouth as he made to answer.

She glared over her shoulder at her brother. “I hate you.”

Chuck laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the counter in his kitchen. He watched as Devon pulled Ellie’s hand away from his mouth and beamed at her in that charming way of his. “Well, whether my little bumblebee nugget hates certain colors or not, she’s definitely tuckered out. Big time.”

They all looked and, indeed, Clara was out cold against her mom’s chest, her little fists curled up under her chin like little pink rosebuds. Everyone let out quiet little “awwww”s and stared for a bit.

Devon moved first. “Think it’s time to get her in her carseat. While she’s this far gone. Or she’ll fight us like a demon and it’ll take a half hour to get her in.”

“Plus insane screaming for an entire car ride,” Ellie whispered, rocking Clara a little to keep her asleep.

“I’ll get our things,” Devon chirped, rushing out of the kitchen to scrounge up their belongings. Chuck felt a little bereft at the thought of them leaving so soon, but with Clara here now, the two of them had much less time to visit. Their lives revolved around her eating and sleeping. It made sense. They needed to find some way to sleep themselves between all of that.

He just didn’t know how much longer Ellie and Devon would stay in Los Angeles before going back home to San Francisco. Ellie mentioned how rough it would be, driving with their newborn for seven hours straight. Was it even safe?

“I have to pee. Who gets the little bundle of joy?”

“ME!” both he and Sarah rushed out. Chuck reached out his arms first, though, and sent Sarah a pout he was relatively sure had some power with his girlfriend. She relented and crossed her arms with a bit of a glare. “In my defense, you’ve gotten to hold her all day, Sarah Walker, P.I. Let the tech guy have a turn with his niece, hm?”

“Fiiiiine,” she drawled, and he saw the mirth beneath her own pout.

He reached out with grabby hands as his sister handed him her daughter. “Yaaaay,” he whispered, pulling his niece in and cradling her close against his chest. She curled into more of a ball against him and drooled a bit on his nice button-up and he didn’t care even a bit.

As Ellie moved out of the kitchen to visit Chuck’s bathroom, Sarah sidled up to him and pressed her cheek into his shoulder. “I always thought people were such freaking liars when they talked about how cute babies are, but your niece is so cute it almost hurts.”

“I know. She makes me feel like my soul is made out of ice cream, sunshine, and fluffy clouds of happiness. I realize clouds and sunshine are contradictory, but it’s just how I feel.”

Sarah giggled and turned her face a little to nuzzle his shoulder over his shirt. “She almost looks like you. The little bit at the end of her nose that goes bwoop.”

“I have a little bit at the end of my nose that goes bwoop?”

She looked up at him and nodded.

“Huh. Didn’t realize that. Hey, I have a little mini-me, then. But, like, a girl version. This is quite a gig, you know? I get to cuddle, swaddle, and snuggle…with a few poopy diaper changes in the middle…but none of the really awful stuff like not sleeping, hearing all of the angry crying.”

“Not ready for all of the responsibility type things, then?” she teased.

“Uhhhhh, no.”

“So…then…you’re not going to do that shitty romcom trope where the guy goes around with someone else’s baby to attract chicks?” She was flirting hard. The way her eyes flashed as she peered up at him through her lashes, pursing her lips and twisting them to the side.

Chuck scoffed. “Okay. One? I don’t need no chick magnet. Case in point…” He dragged his gaze down Sarah’s body and back up again. She snorted and tilted her head, wordlessly granting him that one. “Two? That doesn’t even work in real life. Most women aren’t that easy. Nor are they idiots. And three? Ellie already banned Morgan from being alone with Clara for even suggesting he might do that, and he was joking. So…”

Sarah laughed quietly and stepped back as Ellie came back in the room.

“Dear God, please tell me she’s still asleep,” she said with a wince.

“Like a baby.” He opened his mouth and gave both of them a ta daaaa grin and didn’t get even a bit of the reaction he’d wanted. Instead they merely gave one another flat looks.

“Just for that, give me my daughter back.”

Sarah laughed as he pouted and handed Clara back to her mother.

Minutes later, the Woodcombs were gone, practically tiptoeing away to keep Clara from waking up before they got her to the car, and leaving Chuck and Sarah alone in his condo.

He let out a long breath and smiled to himself, going into the kitchen to start drying the dishes they’d left in the rack next to the sink. He hummed to himself, mopping at the plates with a towel. He’d half-expected Sarah to join him, the way she usually did…sidle up behind him, grab the towel out of his hand to tease him or grab another towel and help…

And after a few minutes, Chuck set everything down and wandered out of his kitchen, stepping into the living room. He found her on the couch, sitting upright, staring down at her laptop that was propped on her knees.

Her face was set in concentration, her eyes flicking back and forth on the screen. And then he saw a flicker of annoyance on her face, disappointment. And she cursed under her breath, slamming the laptop shut with an emphatic click.

She looked up then and saw he was watching. Immediately, a smile swept over her face but it was forced. Very forced. And it frustrated him that she even attempted it.

“Dishes all done?” she asked, setting her laptop on the coffee table in front of her and folding her hands in her lap.

“Nah, just gonna let them dry on their own. That’s what this rack thingy is for, right? Sarah, are you okay?” He wasn’t going to let her deflect this time.

“What do you mean? Do I not seem okay?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered closer. “I mean, for the most part, yeah.” He shrugged. “But you’ve been a little… I don’t know…like something’s bothering you. Pretty much all day.”

When she came over in the afternoon to help him cook for Ellie and Devon, she’d been completely fine at first. But then he’d noticed she kept checking her phone for something. Or she’d pull out her laptop and look at it, then snap it shut like she’d just done again a minute ago, an annoyed look on her face. And then he’d caught her wringing her hands at least twice, though he hadn’t said anything about it. Then there was the fiddling of her fingers…like she did when she was worried.

Maybe she was worried…Or impatient? He closed the distance between them a bit more.

“Is it the agency? Everything okay over there?”

She snorted and gave him a flat look. “Same thing as always. Still trying to get clients. You know that.” With a shrug, she pushed herself to her feet and reached out to take his hand, pulling him the rest of the way so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders and look up at him.

He met her soft gaze and smiled with a short nod. Then he pulled his lips between his teeth and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You seem…I don’t know…almost worried. More than usual.”

She shook her head with a sigh. “Chuck, there’s nothing going on. Just typical adulting stuff. Seriously. I’m good.”

“There’s nothing going on you say. Then in the very next sentence: ‘Just typical adulting stuff.’ Sarah, I’m an adult. I have to deal with adulting as well. You wanna get it off your chest, I might be sympathetic.” He gave her a crooked smile and bumped her nose with his.

“I’m f—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re fine. You’re obsessed with Clara’s pudgy little legs and tonight I saw you were so distracted you didn’t pinch ‘em once and that seems like a big deal to me. More than just regular adult stuff. So out with it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and tried to pull away but he held fast.

“Sarah—”

“I’m late.”

Chuck blinked, and he felt himself pale. The blood rushed in his ears. And all he could do was stare. “Y—You’re … wha—?”

Sarah furrowed her brow for a moment, and then she paled as well, her eyes widening. “No!” A nervous huff came out of her. “That’s not—No, I’m—Not that. No!”

“Oh!” A harsh breath came out of him and he shook his head, swallowing thickly. Relief swam through him. “I—I—Oh.” He swallowed again. “Oh.”

“How is that the first thing you jumped to?” she asked, just barely regaining some of her color.

“THERE WAS JUST A BABY HERE, SARAH.” He heard his voice getting a little high pitched, a little hysterical, but that had been a major shock to his system.

“Let’s go ahead and move away from that subject completely,” she interjected and he nodded.

“God, yes. Please.”

“My rent,” she amended. “I’m late paying my rent. And…And I guess I’m just nervous. Frustrated.” She looked to still be composing herself a little. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one to get a shock to his system. But why the hell had she phrased it like that?

And then what she said sunk in, and he did a bit of a double take. “Wait. Wait, wait. Your rent?” He stepped in closer, holding her by her elbows. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Does your apartment still have electricity? Heat?”

“No! I mean yes. Yes, it does. But no, it isn’t my apartment, Chuck. It’s the agency. I’m late with the rent for my office space. I have to pay the apartment rent…I mean, it’s where I live. But the office…I can maybe let that one go for a little while without it being too much of an issue.”

He didn’t like the way she said that, how she shrugged—putting on a nonchalant act when he could see beneath the facade that this bothered her quite a bit.

“How long?” he asked, frowning.

“Um…” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Tomorrow will be two weeks.”

“What?!”

“I just have to wait for—” She stopped, her eyes darted to the side, and she shut her mouth, her lips thinning. Then she continued again, this time sounding a bit more controlled, the way she sometimes had spoken to him back when she was the lead detective for B.E.C.’s case over a year and a half ago. “I’ve got some money I’m waiting on, something coming in. Then I can pay Jorge and I’ll be totally caught up.”

“You’ve got money you’re waiting on? From where? One of your clients not paying you?” He would send her to their doorstep with his company’s attorney in tow.

“No, not a client. Just, uh…Someone owes me money and they’re sending it to me. Soon.”

Chuck felt that she wanted this particular strain of discussion to end, but he didn’t want it to. He had so many questions. He wanted to know who owed her money. Who the hell was this person she was relying on to be able to pay her rent for her office space? Whomever it was, Chuck absolutely didn’t trust them. Not when having that space was so incredibly important. If she lost that, she’d be forced backwards in making her dream agency a reality, and he’d be damned if he’d let that happen.

For the moment, he decided to push his questions to the side, table them for later. Instead, he said, “Well, just let me give Jorge the money for now—”

“No.” She said it in a very emphatic voice, her tone almost a little hard, even.

“What d’you mean, no? I can—”

“No.”

He blinked. “Sarah—”

“No!” She grabbed his face in her hands, still gentle, imploring. “Chuck, you’re not paying my rent.”

Letting out a huff, the tech guy shrugged and set his hands on her hips, pulling her in closer. “Fine, then. I can give him the rent money, you can pay me back when the—whoever it is pays you back.”

It seemed incredibly simple to him. It was just like a placeholder. Jorge would have the rent and he’d get off of Sarah’s back. It was the perfect solution.

“No, Chuck, I’m not gonna have my boyfriend be my own personal loan agency. That isn’t how this is gonna work. No.”

“Sarah, I’m not a loan agency. I’m just the guy who loves you and wants you to keep your office.” Then he pulled a silly face and smoldered for her, the way he knew she liked. “I’ve got plenty of money, after all,” he teased.

But none of it did what he’d hoped, and she merely sighed and shut her eyes tiredly. “That’s just it, Chuck. I’ll be no better than…” she paused, “people think I am.”

He knew inherently that she was referring to his mom. His own mother was making the woman he loved doubt herself, her business, and worst of all, their relationship. And it hurt him that Sarah was so conscious of it, that it bothered her enough she brought it up this often.

Chuck nodded then, and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright. I give in.”

“You’re not gonna push me on this anymore?” she asked, tilting her head. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you promise to let me take care of this? I will take care of it. It’s important and I’m handling it as such. I’ve got it.”

He nodded.

“You promise?” she probed.

“Yes.” He paused and leaned in to kiss her warmly and her body melted into his, her arms sliding around his neck. As they pulled back a moment later, lips still brushing, he murmured an extra “I promise” and reveled in the feeling of her mouth smiling against his.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She’d seen it one thousand times before. And in many different forms.

How many promises had her father made to her that he hadn’t kept? At this point in her life, Sarah Walker estimated it was nearing a couple hundred. Maybe more than that even. Promises he hadn’t kept that she didn’t know about.

This was just another promise of his and she was unendingly angry with herself for falling into what was undoubtedly just another lie, another trap, another let down. That was how it ended, nine times out of ten. With her pissed and shattered, vowing to never talk to him again. …And then she’d accept his call again, open his email, read his text, and it’d be a vicious cycle. Like it always was. She always came out the worse for the wear.

Her life was different now, though. She had more riding on her decisions than just her own well-being. She had a path, a challenge ahead of her. Nothing was concrete like it had been with Pinkerton. She was secure there, knew what she was getting into every single day, even on the most dangerous cases. Now her future was up in the air, things were changing…but she had a path to follow. And in spite of it being her path, and hers alone, Chuck Bartowski was still there.

This wasn’t just about her anymore.

She had someone else to protect from all of this.

He’d made her a promise, too. Only, unlike her father, he would keep his. He always did. Unfailingly.

And maybe that was part of what drew her to him. Chuck was the most dependable person she’d ever had in her life, and she thought he was maybe the most dependable person anyone who knew him had in their lives.

It wasn’t about his money. Of course a man who had pockets as deep as his were wouldn’t have trouble being dependable. With all of that money at his disposal, he could afford to be that way.

It was just him, the way he was. Inherently. From the time she’d spent with Ellie in the last year or so, she’d discovered a lot about Chuck’s past, and who he was then. Even Morgan had been a good source. The stories of Chuck stepping in when Morgan needed a champion as a smaller kid on the playground being pushed around by bullies. Her boyfriend had gotten himself a black eye in seventh grade after refusing to leave his best friend alone in the hallway with a couple of asshole eighth graders.

Chuck had dependability already in him when he was born. It was a trait that set the tech genius far, far apart from her father, the only other man who’d been important in her life. He’d been a pillar in her life until…well, until he hadn’t been.

Sarah didn’t like the idea of that being why she’d fallen for Chuck so hard and so quickly—that he was the total opposite from her father. It felt almost dysfunctional, in a weird way. And she knew that wasn’t it, at least not completely. Because her attraction to him had been immediate, before she’d even known about him, before she’d gotten to know what he was like, what drove him. The moment he’d met her eyes, something had been there. Maybe not love—love at first sight was a sappy, paltry sentiment that only existed in movies. But it was a powerful attraction all the same.

Something had pulled at her, making her want to do more than just read the dossier on him. Her walls had come down so fast that she’d flirted with him, on the tape recorded, in her very first interview with him about the case. It was ridiculous and unprofessional and so unlike her.

And it was a testament to how singular this was, this relationship, them as a couple.

It had little to nothing to do with her problems with her father. And everything to do with the way they fit so well together. Her relationship with Chuck Bartowski was seamless. It wasn’t without its flaws, it certainly wasn’t perfect, but it was seamless.

So when Chuck made a promise, she believed him. In spite of how often others had broken their promises to her, in spite of how often those others had hurt her.

But that didn’t make her any less of an idiot for trusting her father again.

He said the money would be in the mail. And by that, she figured he meant a check. He owed it to her. He owed more than that to her…but that went so deep, she couldn’t even begin working all of it out, so instead she focused on the money.

His words had felt so meaningless at the time: “I’ll never be able to pay all of this back to you.”

And his “thank you, darlin’” meant even less. But she’d done it anyway.

And still…She was doing this…trusting him.

No, she wasn’t trusting him. She didn’t trust him. She never would again. But she was desperate enough now. She needed this. And she thought that if she’d never helped her dad in the first place, she wouldn’t be in the current predicament she was in, because she’d have more than enough to pay her rent, both her home and her agency.

So she would accept this blasted check, if it ever came like he’d promised her it would.

Before she’d hung up on him.

She would cash it. And she would pay everything off. And then she’d be back on track and Chuck wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore like she knew he was.

She knew how hard it was for him to understand and accept her choices. And she didn’t feel like she needed to explain everything for him to get why she was so adamant. It filled her with relief the other night when he’d promised her he would step back and let her handle all of this on her own. And he’d promised twice.

He was trustworthy.

She trusted him to keep his word.

Because he always had before.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

He switched his gaze from the picture on the left to that on the right. Then back again. Chuck finally groaned and pushed his hands through his hair. “This sucks. I hate making decisions.”

Adisa huffed and set the plans he’d been holding up for his boss on the desk, one on top of the other. “Well, you have time with those. I think the issue that’s the most pressing is whether or not you can get both Neil and Bill on the same stage…at the same time. If you can promise that, people won’t care whether the rest of STEMCon is a complete failure.”

Chuck slid his droll gaze up to his assistant. “Thank you, Adisa.”

“Sorry.” He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat, folding his hands together in front of him. “My point, really, is that I think there are a few things that will really sell this convention if you get them right, whether everything else is perfect or not.”

Chuck let out a long sigh and nodded. “No, you’re right. You’re right. Definitely. And I think the Techosaurus Rex would probably be best for the main lobby, when pass holders are first walking in. Robotic dinosaur versus a giant brain? I mean, come on.”

“Always go with the dinosaur. I absolutely agree.”

“Great. Well…that’s one thing we’ve got settled. TAGBot’s got the job. Hopefully it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg…”

“Or a brain. That would be kind of ironic.”

“Ha!” Chuck pointed at his assistant. “I see what you did there. Get me TAGBot on the phone. Gah, what was the guy’s name I was talking to…? Get h—”

He was interrupted by his office door being opened.

His mother pushed right on in, stopping in the middle of the room. “Sorry, was I interrupting? Still planning that convention, sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah, still planning it. Hi, Mom. That was…uh, abrupt.”

“Well, I’m your mother. And technically my husband is your boss.” She sent him a teasing smile to let him know she wasn’t serious, but it still irked him a little.

“Uh, thanks Adisa. I’ll call ‘em later to let them know what we’ll need from them.”

“Of course, Ch—er, Mr. Bartowski.” He started to move out of the room, but Chuck grabbed the plans and held them up towards him. “Oh. Yes! I’ll take these out of your way.” As he hurried past Mary Bartowski, he grinned. “Mrs. Bartowski, very nice to see you again, ma’am.”

“Good to see you, too, Adisa. How’s your mom and your sister?”

“Oh, they’re great. Tambara is looking into grants for college, so she’s been busy.”

“Well, if she needs help with that, Chuck would be the perfect candidate. He had to apply for every grant in the book, and Tambara having been born in Nigeria will definitely open quite a few doors there. My advice: take advantage of every opportunity.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bartowski. I will surely pass that on to my sister,” he said good-naturedly. Chuck tried to keep the wince off of his face. “Let me know if you need me for anything else,” were the young man’s parting words, and then he went out to his own desk, shutting the door behind him.

“Mom, can you maybe cool it telling my assistant that his sister somehow has a leg up in applying for college because his family had to flee from their home country when they were kids?”

“That is not what I said.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Mom.”

“The Obafemi’s are a good family and they deserve good things. I hope you’re offering your help to his sister, though. Seriously.”

“Adisa went to MIT, Mom. I think Tambara has a pretty good resource in her brother. But anyway, what’s going on? I thought you were with dad in Encino for that recruitment meeting.”

“Mmm yes, we just got back.”

There was a long pause then. “Oooookaaaay, annndd…? Like, I’m not trying to be rude, I’m never rude to you, Mom,” she gave him a dubious look at that, “but you just seem like there’s something on your mind.”

“There’s nothing on my mind. I just feel like I haven’t seen you at all since Clara was born and I thought I could have some one on one time with my son.” She held her hands out defensively. “What’s so wrong with that?”

He chuckled. “Nothing wrong with that, Mom. I actually need to stretch my legs a bit and give my brain a rest. It’s kind of cloudy and brisk out there, but would you want to take a quick walk to the park?”

Mary Bartowski’s warm smile was all the answer he needed.

They eventually made their way to the nearby park, a block north from B.E.C.’s headquarters, walking in comfortable silence. And it wasn’t until they actually made their way onto the path that Chuck felt something else start to enter the comfortable silence—something slightly less comfortable.

He’d fallen for her game again. And damn him, but he’d helped it along by suggesting they leave the office. At least in his office he could text Adisa and ask him to pretend an important patron was on the line for him or something.

“You know, your father told me you didn’t even leave the office the other night. He said you were there when he left and there when he got in the next morning, and wearing the same suit. He’s worried about you,” she finally said, wrapping a hand around his arm. “So am I if that’s what you’ve been doing. It isn’t even safe to be in the building all alone like that.”

“It’s perfectly safe, Mom.”

“Charles, don’t ‘it’s perfectly safe’ me. You do remember that a man was murdered almost two years ago. Right near here. And the man who did it thought he was murdering your father. And the bomb in your cell phone? Oh, and the drive by attempt on your life?”

“That last one was actually an attempt on Sarah’s life. I just happened to be—Sorry,” he rushed out when she glared at him. “I know, I know. But there’s a guard in the building.”

“Mhm. One guard. That’s not the point, anyway. You need to get proper sleep or you’ll be of no use to anyone.”

Chuck let out a soft huff in amusement, having just heard that same thing from someone else the other day.

His mom squeezed his arm. “What’s that smile for?”

“Huh?”

“You just smiled and laughed a little.”

“Oh. Nah, nothing.”

“What?”

“It’s just that Sarah said the exact same thing you did, word for word, the other day. About me needing to sleep or I’ll be of no use to anyone.” He paused. “I mean, she said it more teasingly than you did, but she said it all the same.”

He watched his mom out of the corner of his eye, and saw the way her features became pinched—in annoyance, perhaps, at the reminder that Sarah was still here, that his relationship with the private investigator who’d saved his life a handful of times a year and a half ago was still a thing.

It made his chest hurt and it made him angry all at once.

“How is Sarah?” Mary asked then, lifting her chin, her voice brittle in the cold air.

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s good,” he amended, not wanting his mom to read into anything. “Focusing on getting the agency off the ground, picking up clients…”

“Is that so? Your father told me the clients just don’t seem to be biting. Not in those words. He was assuming. Said he bumped into her on her way down from your office and she seemed quiet and fatigued—you know, emotionally. Must not be going so well…”

Chuck took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She just needs to get her name out there. She gets a few good references, and they’ll practically be kicking her door down.” His smile was a little too bright, he knew, and his mother was a smart woman. People oftentimes underestimated just how smart she was.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“Has she asked you for help yet?”

“What—?” He dropped the act and stopped walking, turning to face her. “No, she hasn’t asked me for help. Oh, do you mean how I’m paying for her lavish lifestyle?” he said sarcastically. “Funding her high society parties? Buying her a Maserati? Building her a chateau with stables up in the mountains? What do you think this is, Mom? Seriously.”

“I didn’t say any of those things. You did. I just asked if she asked for help yet. She obviously is hard for cash if she isn’t getting any clients. And her apartment is close enough to yours that I’m sure it costs her a small fortune, especially since she lives alone. Who’s paying for that?”

“She is,” he said, clenching his jaw. “No, you know what? I’m not answering any of your questions. Not anymore. Because my relationship with my girlfriend is none of your business.”

“What you do with the money your father’s company pays you is my business, Chuck. But most importantly, you’re my son. I love you. I don’t want to see you used and heartbroken.”

“She isn’t using me. And she has no intention of breaking anything of mine.”

“How do you even know that for sure?”

“Because we’re in love. Because I spend so much time with her that I know her, Mom. Because I trust her, the way you trust someone when you’re in a serious relationship. The way you trusted Dad when things were bleaker than they are now.” She looked away at that. “Money is nowhere in my relationship with Sarah. She goes out of her way to make sure I don’t help her. With anything. Even when I know she needs it. We’ve gotten into arguments about it. I try to help her all the time and she flat out refuses, contrary to what you might think of her. Trust me, I’ve tried to give her everything and she’s taken none of my offers. It’s almost infuriating. It is infuriating. It makes me feel crazy.” He huffed, annoyed he let his mom needle him enough to let that much out.

He pushed a hand through his hair, then smoothed down his tie. “Look, this family…” He licked his lips and shook his head, meeting her eyes. “This family has more money than we know what to do with. That’s just the truth. I’m so rich, I’m sure whatever money I die with will be enough for the next handful of generations that come after me to never work a day in their lives. What’s the point, though? What’s the point of having all of this if I can’t make the people I love comfortable? If I can’t help them to achieve their dreams?”

“Why can’t you just let her achieve her own dreams? Can she not get comfortable through her own hard work?”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “Stop right there. If B.E.C. were my company back when Ellie was starting med school and shifting into neuroscience and surgery, would you have ranted and raved if I’d paid for Ellie’s education the way Dad did when the company was starting to pick up steam?”

She was silent for a few seconds. And then she looked up at him. “She’s your sister. It’s different.”

“It isn’t different.”

“Families help each other. Families stick together. Families help with things like that. Just like we did for your father. And look at how much we’ve all benefited. But family—”

“Sarah’s family.”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“I love her, Mom. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me. She is family. When she needs help, when she needs a boost, it’s up to me to give it to her. I’m supposed to be supporting her.”

“Where’s her own family?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t know if she even had her own family. It didn’t matter, though. He was her family. And in spite of anything he might’ve told her before, it was his duty to protect her, to help her achieve her goals, and to make sure there were no roadblocks between her and her dreams.

Even if it was in spite of his mother.

“I mean, Charles, honestly…” She grabbed his arm and made him look at her. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. And I’m not saying this to give you doubts. I genuinely want to know what it is that is keeping her here. She can’t get that business off the ground. She’d probably have better luck in another city, like New York or something. Back to Chicago, maybe, where Pinkerton is. You know that’s in the back of her mind, always there in her head. She might be in love with you. In fact, she probably is. I don’t doubt that. I’m a woman and I know other women better than you could ever understand, and I’ve seen how she looks at you. But being with you has added benefits that have to come into play as she plans all of this. You’re rich, Charles. You are a pretty big safety net, in case that agency of hers falls apart. What happens if she never gets a client? You don’t think she’ll eventually let it all go, live off of your earnings? It’d be so easy. I wouldn’t even blame her for it. It’s a very tempting prospect, living without a care in the world, knowing you have someone to pay your bills, buy your food, house and clothe you…”

“No,” he said, knowing beyond all doubt that he was right. “She’ll never let it go. It’s her dream. It’s what she was born to do. And she’ll never be satisfied living off of my earnings. You don’t know her the way I do. She’d…” His voice drifted off. She’d leave first, had been what he was going to say. She’d build her agency somewhere else before she’d ever just give up and live off of him.

His mother had gotten deep under his skin without him even realizing it was happening.

So much so that even when they’d finished the walk and she’d excused herself with a kiss to his cheek as though the entire argument had never even happened in the first place, he’d found himself sitting at his desk, still thinking about the things she’d made him realize.

She was bitter and judgmental and overprotective and paranoid. The Bartowski’s success and fortune had done that to her.

There was no way in hell he’d ever think Sarah was with him for his money, no matter what his mom did or said. She could show him a picture of Sarah in a bath full of his money as proof and he’d laugh it off. … Or he’d think it was hot; that was also a possibility.

But all of her harping on the money issue had him wondering if things were worse than Sarah was leading on. She was struggling. He knew she was. And she would be kicked out of her office space, have no home for her agency, if she went much further along without paying the rent to the landlord. She’d be devastated, and he had no idea what she’d do about it. Would she try again? Find some other space in Los Angeles? Or would she see it as such a catastrophic failure that she’d decide she couldn’t make it in LA, and needed to build the business elsewhere, in some other city? Back in Chicago? Or New York? San Francisco? Somewhere far away from here, where he was rooted, stuck, trapped. He’d never be able to follow her, wherever she went. And the way their relationship had gotten so hard with the distance between them, could he do it again? Would she even want to? Or would all of this be over, after everything they meant to each other?

By the time he’d spiraled to the point where he wondered if he’d lose her altogether were she to get kicked out of the office space, he was already putting his jacket back on and grabbing his car keys. This wasn’t just about not wanting to lose her. It was about her dreams.

It was such a small thing in the grand scheme of her business. But it would help her so much.

And it was so easy for him to do it.

So he would.

Because she solved the case two weeks ago, and she had yet to receive any phone calls or emails from anyone else. And that was in spite of Sanderson’s insistence that she allow him to pass her name around to his colleagues and peers. Because “Good work is best when nobody’s aware it’s even happening” he had told her before he left her office, placing a large check in her hand.

She was hoping others felt that way, but so far, her phone hadn’t exactly been ringing off the hook.

Sarah glanced at it, sitting there on her desk next to her laptop and wireless mouse. She resisted the urge to knock it onto the ground, and instead huffed and slammed the drawer shut with a resounding finality.

She wondered when she’d open it again. If she’d open it again.

Chuck’s voice swept into her mind as she walked to her office window and peered outside. As always, it was the good voice, the voice that drowned out the bad voices. A balm on the discouraging lack of success, telling her she’d get a client soon. She just had to be a little patient.

She turned to glance out of the door into the lobby where an assistant might sit if she had one. Always a pragmatist, she’d butted against Chuck’s idealistic nature when they first stood in this office space after she decided to start renting it. She knew it would take a few years before she could afford an assistant, and he was sure she’d have one in no time. He was sweet, but not very realistic. Then again, who knew if he really believed all of the optimistic things he tossed at her when she voiced her discouragement, or if he was just trying to bolster her confidence.

Either way, it helped. It truly did.

But he wasn’t here. He was probably in his own office, coding or catching up on emails, plotting and planning his next project for his dad. Whatever he did that kept him at Bartowski Electronics Corporation’s headquarters until late in the evening.

Sarah grumbled to herself softly and slid her blinds shut, turning away from the window and pushing her hands through her hair. It was an exercise now, Monday through Friday, she would wake up, put on her professional clothes, go to the office, check her email, check her phone, stand around, or sit around if she felt like it, spend a few hours researching and planning things she couldn’t afford just yet at this stage in her private investigative agency, and then she’d go home.

No cases.

No calls.

No emails.

For two weeks now.

What exactly did she think she’d be accomplishing at nine o’clock at night on a Thursday when she had no client to work for? Maybe it was just denial. If she was at home, it would just emphasize that she wasn’t working because she literally had nothing to work on.

As she sat at the edge of her desk, she looked into her office’s lobby again and caught sight of the door. Chuck had a blast helping her find the right space for her investigative enterprise, and in fact, the reason why he liked this place so much was how hardboiled the place looked. That was his word he’d used. “Hardboiled”. Like Philip Marlowe, who she honestly only knew about because of Chuck in the first place. He’d referenced that enough when she was working on his case two years ago that she’d looked him up, even watched a Humphrey Bogart movie in her scant free time. That was something she’d never told him before. Because she’d been embarrassed then.

Per Chuck’s request, they’d had a guy come in and put “Walker Investigative Enterprises” on the foggy glass window in block letters. It pissed her off to do it, but she’d decided on just Walker, without her first name. Sexism was still deeply ingrained into the mindset of male professionals…and even some female professionals. Seeing she was a woman might disqualify her right off the bat without further research into her history.

When she looked at it now, she didn’t feel the pride she wanted to feel. Yes, she had her own P.I. agency. But did it really even count without clients?

Her cell buzzed in her purse that sat on the desk behind her. She rummaged through her bag and picked it up. Two missed calls from Ellie, and three texts. “Shit,” she breathed, quickly swiping to answer and holding it to her ear. “Ellie? Ellie, are you okay? What’s going on? Is it time?”

She was met with a bubbly laugh. “Jesus, Sarah, you’re worse than Devon. Although…Yeah, on second thought, I don’t blame you. I did call a bunch and leave a lot of texts. At nine at night. Sorry.”

Sarah heard the wince in her voice. “Uh, no. No, it’s okay. I just….you know, I was worried. Sorry I missed your messages.”

“That’s alright! I’m sure you’re busy! It’s not that important…Well, I mean, it is…kind of. But not as important as me potentially going into labor three weeks before my due date.”

“Right.” Sarah climbed to her feet and straightened her skirt. “So what’s up?”

“Well…”

Sarah narrowed her eyes when Ellie took awhile to continue. “Ellie? What’s going on?”

Ellie huffed. “Nothing’s going on. I’m about to ask you to do something you definitely won’t want to do.” She paused long enough for Sarah to frown. “I need you to go shopping with me tomorrow. For new baby things.”

Sarah’s eyebrows popped. And then she felt a warmth go through her as she brought her free arm up to hug herself. She was beaming by the time she spoke. “You want me to go with you to buy things for Clara? Why wouldn’t I want to do that, Ellie? Of course I’ll—”

“Wait, wait…Before you get all cute and gushy, my mom is joining us.”

The warm feeling left and was replaced by a frigid, icy feeling. A chill went down her spine. “What?”

“Exactly.”

“Well—Oh. I mean…”

“Change your mind? I wouldn’t blame you. It was going to just be us. I was going to call you tonight to ask you to help me. And then mom came by this afternoon and was hinting so hard I almost felt bad for her, so I…asked her. Devon didn’t help,” she said, through her teeth Sarah could tell. “He kept prompting me with that look he does.” She growled in frustration.

Sarah didn’t know Devon as well as she did Chuck’s sister, but she thought she might know the look Ellie was referring to. It was the “try harder to get along with your mom” look. She’d seen him use it on his neurosurgeon wife before.

She bit her lip, not saying anything in response.

“I’m sorry. I totally get it if you don’t want to come. I was even considering just not inviting you at all, knowing it would suck for you. I mean, she is such a horrible person around you. I just…I need you there to stop me from snapping my mom’s neck, that’s all.”

Sarah couldn’t stop the laugh from coming out, as sudden as it was. “Wow. That was graphic.”

“Satisfying image, though, right?”

“Oh my God, Ellie.” Sarah giggled and shook her head. She really, really loved this woman. “It won’t be that bad, I’m sure. I mean, it’ll be a nice, fun outing. Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never shopped for…baby things.”

“It will be fine, I’m sure. I just need you to buffer for me. Please. I know it’s going to be awkward for you. I’ll owe you big time for this.” Sarah could hear Chuck’s sister’s desperation, and it pulled at her heartstrings.

“Gaaaah, alright. I’ll go.” Ellie squeaked in happiness. “But I’m doing this for you. And I’m doing it for Chuck. I want him to see the effort I’m making so that I don’t look like the bad guy.”

“My brother’s smart. He knows who the real bad guy is. But you know I’ll stand with you no matter what. I’ve got your back, Sarah.”

That made Sarah feel so much better about agreeing to shop with the Bartowski women in the morning. And she said as much before hanging up.

But the moment the phone went back into her purse, she groaned and hung her head. At least it would break up the monotony. And how.

But God, did it have to be with a woman who hated her guts?

“You can do this” she breathed to herself as she grabbed her purse, laptop, and keys, leaving her office for the night. She could do this.

“Stay strong,” she felt the need to add as she slid into the elevator.

———

Chuck ignored the strain in his jaw as he pushed open the door into the hallway and strolled the rest of the way to his destination. His arms were full, the burlap grocery bags in his arms sturdy but definitely heavy, and the coffees he’d bought at the cafe in the grocery store were firmly ensconced in a tray, the handle of said tray trapped between his teeth.

He’d thought on the way up about the guys he’d seen on TV as a kid who could hold extremely heavy things with their teeth. And here he was, with his teeth and jaw aching from two small paper cups with coffee in them.

That didn’t matter, though.

Something had struck him the right way this morning. He was sailing. He had a lot of work at the office. But he also had a meeting later with his dad and two potential sponsors for the free conference Chuck was organizing to get high-school aged boys and girls in the greater LA area interested in STEM.

Chuck and a few of his marketing people at Bartowski Electronics Corporation had been putting their heads together about this for months, and if they could get sponsors, they could start targeting which schools had the lousiest supplies—lack of technology, old computers, no tablets. Those were the schools that would receive invites to the conference.

It was still in the beginning stages, but he had to sell the sponsors now. He needed the money now.

That all aside, he was currently thumping his foot against the door of the apartment where the smartest woman he’d ever met lived. The coolest woman he’d ever met. With a heart of gold. And the bad ass skill sets required to save lives and catch bad guys.

His mood went up a few more notches.

And as the door swung open, said smartest, coolest woman with a heart of gold stood there with a wrinkle between her eyebrows, surprised to see him obviously, but glad all the same.

Was that relief, as well?

“Hnnn,” was all he was capable of.

Not just because of the tray clamped between his teeth. But also because he’d neglected to add that she was staggeringly beautiful. And helpful! …As she leaned in quickly to take the tray from his teeth with an amused, “You’re going to need a dentist after this, you know.”

He worked his jaw a few times, wincing. “Gimme a kiss, Sarah Walker, P.I. It’ll make it better and then I won’t need a dentist. That’s why I said that. That was the charming response I was going for.”

“I got it,” she said, wrinkling her nose and moving in for a kiss, her hand automatically resting on his cheek and lightly grazing down to his neck.

Oh…and she was his.

What a glorious life this is, he thought to himself as he leaned into the kiss with a soft, “Mmmm.”

And she finally pulled back with a grin. “How’re the teeth now?”

“Good as new.”

She giggled and backed into her apartment, holding the door for him with her free hand so that he could move into the living room. He kept going, all the way into the kitchen where he set down his bags on the counter as she followed.

She put the coffee tray down and pulled her hand back, looking at it and making a face. “Yeggh. Got your spit all over my hand.”

Chuck laughed. “Really, Sarah? We literally just exchanged saliva.”

“Wow. Cute.”

He lunged at her the moment she turned to peek into one of the bags, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her against him, craning his neck so that he could give her an open-mouthed kiss at the crook of her shoulder, next to the strap of the white sleeveless blouse she was wearing. He swiped his tongue over her skin as she squealed, shoving at him and stepping back with a laugh.

“Eeewww!!! Seriously?!” She was grinning even as she glared, wiping at her neck with the nearest dishtowel.

He laughed.

“Hey, you look all spruced up for eight-thirty in the morning. You have a meeting with a client?” He tried not to sound too hopeful. He knew she was having some struggles with getting clients after the first one failed to pass her credentials on to other people. Elias Sanderson. Frankly, the guy tended not to follow through on a lot of things. Chuck didn’t play into the whole lawyers-are-scum joke a lot of the other tycoons around town enjoyed. But that guy wasn’t trustworthy.

He’d forced himself to bite his tongue with Sarah, not wanting to influence her first experience with a client. And to Sanderson’s credit, he’d had the sense and wherewithal to know a good detective when he saw one, and he had paid her in full, with some extra credit for solving the case as quickly and painlessly as she had.

The press had been kept out of it, which was probably one of the more impressive skill sets in Sarah’s arsenal of epic skill sets.

“Uh, no…” was the only answer Sarah had to his question. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and reached into the bags to pull the groceries out. “Hey, what’s with all of this stuff you bought? You better not be putting all of this in my fridge.”

“Nope. Some of it will go in your cupboards.” He sent her a cheeky grin and she rolled her eyes.

“Chuck, I don’t want you buying my—”

“Sarah.” He interrupted her, putting down the eggs and shredded cheese, and setting his hands on her shoulders. “I spend so much time here that I’m going to end up eating seventy five percent of the food I bought this morning. You know it’s true.”

She shrugged. “That’s probably true. Fine. You get off on a technicality, Mister.”

Chuck arched an eyebrow at her. “Oooo. I like it when you do legal speak at me and then call me Mister.” He leaned in for another kiss, and she let him, before she pulled back and booped him on the nose with her finger.

As he unloaded the bags onto the counter, he subtly watched her move around the kitchen as she finished emptying her dishwasher. She never answered his question. Well, she answered it…but not to his satisfaction, which he supposed was his own problem.

But she was gently kneading her bottom lip between her teeth, something she did when she was nervous or antsy. When she had to do something she didn’t want to do.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” She turned and looked at him. He saw her shake herself a little and paste a nonchalant smile on her face. And when she met his eye, he knew she was well aware that he’d witnessed it and was seeing right through her. She dropped the smile and sighed.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Sarah pouted a little, and he knew she was probably frustrated by how easily he could pick through her attempts to guard her emotions. She just had to get used to it, that was all. Maybe she would someday. Eventually. He didn’t begrudge her for it, nevertheless.

“I’ll tell you if you make me one of those frittata thingies.”

“You’re telling me no matter what I make you.”

“I know.”

He smiled lovingly and reached out towards her. “Hey. C’mere. Of course I’ll make you a frittata. Even though I’ve got a long day of work ahead of me and meeeeetings and…” His voice drifted off as she faux glared, letting herself be pulled against him.

“No. Please. Continue.” She smirked. “Fine, I can make us burnt toast and fried eggs.”

He laughed and hugged her close. “Frittata it is.”

And when they pulled away, he continued emptying the grocery bags, folding them up and setting them aside as he let Sarah put away things he wasn’t using for breakfast. She knew where she wanted that stuff better than he did anyway.

“So…” She sighed. He was careful not to look at her. He didn’t know why. Maybe he thought she’d feel more uneasy if he was watching her. “Ellie called last night.”

Chuck perked up. He was a sap. He knew he was a sap. But the idea of his sister and his girlfriend texting one another, talking on the phone, hanging out sometimes, made him feel like melting into a puddle and staying like that for eternity. “Oh, yeah? She say how she’s doing?”

“Mhm. Good. She’s trying to keep Devon from having a panic attack.”

He chuckled. “I know, he keeps calling me and threatening to beat my ass if I let Ellie, quote, ‘Go through this alone’, unquote, while he’s up in San Francisco for the surgery.”

Captain Awesome’s patient had scheduled a surgery with Dr. Woodcomb as his surgeon, and as it was a massively important surgery on the guy’s aorta, Awesome wasn’t about to reschedule. He was awesome like that.

In spite of Ellie not being due for a few weeks, the possibility of her going into labor early was high. Chuck and Ellie’s mom, Devon’s mom, and both sides of grandmothers had given birth early to all of their children.

At least, that was what Awesome kept texting both Chuck and Ellie. Much to Ellie’s annoyance.

Sarah smirked. “Like you’re just gonna go ‘Good luck, sis!’ and wave her off to the hospital in some strange van with the hopes she gets there okay.” She mimicked a grin and wave. He found it highly adorable.

But then her grin died and she slumped back against her counter. “She invited me to go shopping with her for a few last minute things for the baby.”

Chuck was confused. Why did that upset her? What about shopping with his sister made her upset? Or was it the baby thing? Was there some deep seated nervousness about…He couldn’t go down that road. That was a road he needed to stay the hell away from. He was moving away from that totally.

“Mom did tell her she should’ve had a baby shower,” he teased. Ellie hadn’t wanted one and it had driven her mother insane. At every turn, Ellie denied Mary Bartowski the chance to do all of the “Mom milestones” she felt she was entitled to, apparently.

Sarah gave him a flat look. “That’s exactly it.”

“What’s exactly it?”

“Your mom pressured Ellie into inviting her. And now I’m trapped.” She huffed.

Chuck frowned and cracked a few eggs into a bowl. “Wait, wait. So you said yes and then Ellie invited mom? That’s surprisingly underhanded of her.”

Sarah was quick to correct him. “No, no. She was perfectly up front with me about it. I knew before I said yes.”

Understanding slowly made its way through him. And he turned to face her as he beat the eggs. “Why’d you agree to go if you didn’t want to?” She gave him a look. “I know you don’t want to, don’t try to pretend you don’t. You and my mom aren’t exactly besties.” Her look got flatter. “Through no fault of your own, of course!” he rushed.

“I don’t want to avoid your mom, Chuck. That isn’t going to help anything. And Ellie needs a champion. She’s been tired, carrying around a human twenty-four seven, and she’s almost due, and she told me she’s achy and moody. Can you imagine your mom poking at her all day long, telling her what to do and how to do it in that way of hers?” She pulled back into herself a bit with a wince. “Sorry. She’s your mom. I shouldn’t be like that.”

“You should be whatever way you feel like,” he was quick to say. She gave him a small, grateful smile for that. “You’re right, though. I can imagine my mom driving Ellie insane, just the two of them spending a day together. Ellie might kill her.”

“She said something to me about neck snapping on the phone. Honestly, I think the best way I can make peace with your mom is if I keep her from being murdered by your sister today.” She shrugged. “I also want to do what I can to make the last days or weeks of your sister’s pregnancy as healthy and peaceful and just…easy for her as I can.”

Chuck watched her with no small amount of warmth. “You’re a complete and total package, Sarah Walker, you know that? Like, head to toe, inside and out. If my mom really and truly knew what she was going up against, she would throw in the towel. Immediately. And I don’t say that lightly; my mom is determined as all get-out.” He slid his gaze down Sarah’s body to her bare feet and back up her long denim-covered legs, torso, and finally to her face again. “She’s in trouble if she even tries.”

A slow smile grew on Sarah’s face, and then her lips broke into a grin and she chuckled, walking up to him and pecking him on the lips. “I’m really glad you showed up this morning to make me breakfast. Didn’t know I needed it ’til I opened the door to find you standing there with a coffee tray dangling from your mouth.” She patted him on the cheek and went to her fridge.

They enjoyed a quick breakfast, Chuck deciding not to talk about the day Sarah was about to endure. But he was grateful to her. She was actively taking on the role of his sister’s protector. And a part of him thought maybe Sarah wanted him to see she was making a legitimate effort with his mom.

She didn’t have to do that, though. He knew at whose feet the strife between his mom and girlfriend lay. It was up to Mary Bartowski to stop being so closed-off and stubborn about the people her children chose to be with.

Chuck knew he and Ellie could have both picked people who were way, way worse than Sarah Walker and Devon Woodcomb. In fact, he was sure neither of them could get better. Honestly, no other guy would go through what Devon did to be with Ellie. And Sarah…

He reached across the table and picked up her hand, holding onto it as he sipped his coffee. “I have to go. I’ve got a bunch of emails to write and you know I’m a wordy son of a bitch,” he teased, wrinkling his nose.

She giggled. “You are. But I loved those wordy emails when we were on different continents.”

They stood up and he moved to start cleaning, but she stopped him with a sudden, “Ah ah! No!”, grabbing his arm and steering him away from the table. “You’re incredibly sweet, making me breakfast when you actually have a job to be at this morning. I can clean everything up. I’ve got a few hours before Armageddon begins.”

Chuck snorted at that. “Okay, then. I’ll just bounce outta here and let the woman do the kitchen work.” He laughed as her hand smacked at the back of his head. Honestly, he hadn’t even seen it before it made contact. She was so impressive.

As she walked him to the door, he held fast to her hand, turning to grab the door handle and pulling her close at the same time. “Hey, listen. Don’t let my mom make you think you’re anything less than you are, okay?”

She made a face, teasing him. “And what exactly am I?”

Chuck took a moment to wonder if she picked up one of his habits after dating him all this time. He knew he sometimes reverted to jokes to hide when he was feeling vulnerable or nervous. He tried to lighten the mood. She was trying it now. And she never would’ve done that two years ago when she was head detective on his case.

It was cute. Sweet.

But he wasn’t letting her get away with it this time. “You’re everything, Sarah Walker.” Her face softened significantly and he could see clearly in her features that she loved him. He moved in to kiss her cheek, and then he swept the door open. “Will I see you tonight?”

“Please please please,” she rushed out, giggling self-deprecatingly.

“I’m here for you, bae.”

“And never call me bae again.”

“Hear you loud and clear, boo.”

“That’s only a little bit better.”

He was still laughing as he walked down the hallway, but by the time he climbed into the front seat of his car, he felt worry settle over him. Sarah could take care of herself. And Ellie wouldn’t let his mom get away with anything.

But his mother was a professional needler. She always had been. She always would be. And he was afraid his mom might put the needle in exactly the right spot.

———————

“This is atrocious, Mom. Sarah, is this not atrocious?”

Sarah held in a laugh at the incredulous look on Ellie’s face as she turned and lifted a pink and green polka dot baby moo moo for her brother’s girlfriend to see.

“It’s…not great, Mary. Sorry.”

Chuck’s mother rolled her eyes and huffed. “Feel how soft it is, though. The most important part is that she’s comfortable.”

“Okay, well…Can we find something she’ll be comfortable in that doesn’t also make her look like a terrifying nightmare clown baby? Do those two things have to be mutually exclusive? Like, comfortable and cute. I feel like there has to be something out there that’s both those things.”

Sarah watched the exchange and smartly slipped away, around one of the racks of clothes, and into another section of the store completely.

She stopped at an expensive looking dark wood crib that almost looked like an antique. She overheard Ellie tell her mom in the car ride over that she and Devon had already bought a crib. But this was beautiful. Something she could imagine wanting to buy if she ever had a child.

Sarah was with Ellie on at least that much. Chuck’s sister was attracted to very non-traditional things. She didn’t go for pastels and crisp, clean white. She liked greens, blues, dark woods, antique things. She went for safety over trends.

As Sarah turned the corner again, she came face to face with Mary Bartowski. She nearly yelped in surprise. Jesus, the woman was like a human version of a suspense thriller film sometimes. Mommie Dearest. Maybe she’d use that one sometime when Ellie was feeling down.

“I noticed you and my daughter have similar tastes,” Mary said, a little offhand, fingering the silk blankets stacked in front of her face.

“I noticed the same thing. But she and I agree on a lot. That’s why we get on so well.”

“Hm. Yes, I noticed that, too.” She stared at the younger woman for much longer than made said younger woman comfortable. “It’s very interesting you’re playing such a large role in this process. Ellie having her baby, I mean.”

“W-Why is that interesting? She’s Chuck’s sister. And my friend.”

A flash of something under Mary’s smile caught Sarah’s eye, but before she could say anything, Ellie showed up and pushed between them, grabbing one of the blankets. “I’ve bought Clara a lot of blankets already, but these are really nice. I mean, what if she spits up on one? I grab another and she spits up on that one, or we spill food on it or something? Three is a pretty good number for blankets, right? So soft.”

Sarah reached out and felt the green blanket Ellie pulled down from the pile. “That is really nice. Soft.”

“Right? Babies are so lucky. Everything is so soft and nice. Poor girl is going to grow up and start having to wear heels and fucking bras.”

“Ellie!” her mom whispered hoarsely. “You’re in a baby store.”

“What?” Ellie sassed. “It’s not like there are any actual babies in here.”

Sarah snorted, turning her face into her fist and pretending it was a cough. She’d learned that one from Chuck, and just like Mary Bartowski did with him, she turned on Sarah and said, “You’re not helping,” before skulking off.

Ellie lazily turned her head to Sarah. “Yeah, Sarah. You’re not helping,” she drawled.

“Hey. I’m trying to make some headway here. Stop getting me in trouble,” she hissed, unable to keep the amused smirk from her face.

Ellie winced. “Ooo. Yeah. My bad.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I have a feeling no matter what I do or say, I’m not going to win with her.”

“Well…” Ellie reached up and squeezed her shoulder. “It’s cute you’re trying.”

Sarah laughed and playfully nudged Ellie. “Shut up.”

And then a buzz came from Ellie’s purse, followed by a soft, generic ring tone. “That’s probably Devon,” the soon-to-be mother mumbled as she rifled through her purse. Sarah took the purse and held it for Ellie so that it was easier for her to find the phone. “I should get it, though, to make sure he isn’t having a nervous breakdown. Did I tell you?” She pulled the phone out finally and held it in her hand, looking up at Sarah. “He went to sleep in his clothes one night. Not pajamas. Jeans and a T-shirt, socks, shoes, everything. His shoes inside my bed. So we could get to the hospital ASAP. He saw it in an episode of the Dick Van Dyke Show, but he didn’t understand we were supposed to think Dick Van Dyke was ridiculous for doing that.”

Sarah laughed as Ellie brought the phone to her ear. “Hi, honey—I—No, Devon. I have not had our daughter yet.” Ellie rolled her eyes to Sarah and grabbed her purse from her, mouthing “Jesus christ” as she walked away. “We talked about this, buddy. I’m not going to have our child without letting you know it’s happening.”

Shaking her head at the conversation as Ellie moved to the other side of the store, Sarah turned to do some more browsing and nearly ran into Mary again. “Jesus—!” She sighed and put a hand over her heart, collecting herself. Seriously. Kathy Bates would be proud. She was storing that one for later, too.

“Sorry to scare you.”

She didn’t sound that sorry.

“Who is Ellie talking to?”

“Oh, um…Awes—erm—Devon called. To check up on her, I assume.”

“How are things at the…agency, Sarah?”

The private investigator blinked at the suddenness of the change of subject. “Erm…” She collected herself quickly. She had to remind herself that she’d been dealing with difficult people virtually all her life, in law school, and in her job with Pinkerton especially. She could handle this one, too. “It’s going well. Just finished a case. If you know anyone who might need a P.I., send them my way,” she chirped, grinning in as friendly a way as she could.

“Yes. I’ll let you know if any of my friends need to find out if their husbands are cheating on them.” Mary smiled sweetly and pat Sarah’s arm as she swept past her with an “excuse me”.

Sarah stood there, burning. How dare that woman get the last word!

Clenching her jaw, she pulled her cell out and saw that she’d missed a text from Chuck. Exactly who she’d wanted to talk to. “How’s it going?” he asked. She texted back a short and sweet “Fine” and rolled her eyes at herself. It took a moment for him to respond with the flat look emoji. Of course he wanted more than just a one word answer. “Could be better,” she continued. “And I honestly hoped it would be better. But your mom is…” She paused, biting her lip, and then she finished typing and hit send, “…good at needlepoint.”

She had to wait a few moments for his response. “I love it when you talk in code. So private investigator-y. So hot.”

“Please don’t sext with me while I’m baby shopping with your sister and YOUR MOM WHO HATES ME.”

“Was that sexting? I’ve got a lot worse in my arsenal. Or better, depending on your POV on sexting. Also when you say ‘baby shopping’ I picture you guys walking down a row of babies picking one out like people do with carrots at the grocery store.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and put her phone away, turning to find the rest of her party. Ellie was right there. “Fuck!” She shut her eyes and huffed, blushing and looking around. “Is sneaking up on people a family trait?”

Ellie chuckled. “Maybe. Saying ‘fuck’ in a baby stuff store might have just become a family trait, though, so welcome to the family.”

That got Chuck’s sister a flat look for the ages.

———————

By the end of what proved to be a very fruitful day for Ellie and Clara, Sarah was half-blistered by the singeing sideways glances of Mary Bartowski, along with the backhanded compliments and condescension.

Sarah knew exactly what the woman was doing. She strategically planted herself near her son’s girlfriend when Ellie was distracted or elsewhere in another section of whatever store they happened to be in, and that was when she got her jabs in.

Ellie caught her only once, and Mary Bartowski was dragged off and probably spoken to in a way only Ellie could get away with. Sarah’d felt immature for the smirk that put on her face, and the “Haa haaa!” she thought as Ellie guided her mom away from the scene of the crime.

However, even though the private investigator saw Mary’s intentions clear as day, that didn’t make the barbs feel any less terrible. As much as she tried not to let it get under her skin, it did.

It hurt.

And she was pissed off that it hurt. Falling in love with Chuck Bartowski had opened her up to a lot of things—emotions mostly. Of course she should have known love wouldn’t be the only thing.

There was also frustration, longing, anger, and yes, hurt.

Love was the most important thing. That feeling she got when she opened the door this morning to find him standing there with his arms and mouth full. It hadn’t just been relief, or the pleasure of seeing the man she loved, though there was plenty of both of those things. It was also a feeling of safety and reassurance that was much needed. A feeling of security. Of knowing he thought about her enough that he went to the grocery store down the street to buy the makings for them to enjoy a nice breakfast together before he had to go to work, that he wanted to be with her in the small window of time he had in the morning.

She had to remember that to keep Mary from winning the day. She’d dig into her arsenal of things she learned from Langston Graham back when she first started at Pinkerton, simply by watching him work. Never let them see the chinks in your armor, never let them see your weak spots, and never let them see when they get to you.

She was human. And Mary was getting to her. She just had to steal herself to keep the woman from seeing it.

And take the high road. As hard as that was. As much as she didn’t want to—and probably wouldn’t have if she wasn’t Chuck’s mother. Sarah owed it to Chuck to at least try.

But then Ellie had invited them for dinner at her and Devon’s condo in Burbank since Devon had just landed at the airport and was on his way home in an Uber. Mary was tasked with calling the B.E.C. men and getting them to dinner as well.

The day seemed like it just wouldn’t end and she needed it to end so badly.

The only respite Sarah got was sitting in the backseat of Ellie’s car where Mary couldn’t see her face. She grit her teeth and glared at the back of the older woman’s seat, subtly lifting her middle finger and subsequently waggle it in Mary’s direction.

Sarah insisted on helping Ellie cook, and was dubbed the “sous chef” for the night while Mary poured herself a cocktail and sat at the table. It gave Sarah something to do, and she was better able to pretend she didn’t see the significant looks Ellie was trying to flash at her. The one that said “Are you okay?” was the one she avoided the most.

Because the more she thought about it, the more she realized she wasn’t okay. She would be later. She’d be fine later. But right now, everything was bubbling to the surface. A mixture of anger and general upset.

Finally the door opened and the booming, jolly voice of Devon Woodcomb brought a lift to the young woman’s spirits.

“Hey, hey, hey! My favorite three ladies in one room!” He shut the door just in time, because Ellie was quick on her feet for someone who was in her third trimester of pregnancy. And her arms were around him before he even had time to put his bags down.

Sarah let herself look a little longer than was maybe proper as they embraced, if only because it made her heart a little melty—and in spite of not being as big a sap as her boyfriend was, she knew she needed some of that heart-meltyness tonight. It was a balm on her wounds, and a reminder that it was possible for she and Chuck to flourish in spite of Mary Bartowski…because Ellie and Awesome were.

Devon put his hand on Ellie’s stomach. “Three and a half!”

“Three and four-fifths more like,” Sarah chirped as she swung out of the kitchen.

“See? I like you.” Devon pointed at her with a grin of agreement, his face so bright and sincerely ecstatic to be home that she wasn’t sure what she’d been upset about all day in the first place. She walked right up to him and gave him a hug, which he not only accepted wholeheartedly, he even hugged her back so hard she felt a few pops in her torso.

Sarah was careful not to pay too much attention to the exchange between Captain Awesome and Mary Bartowski, but she heard from the kitchen the quiet politeness of the latter in the face of the former’s enthusiasm.

But she froze when she heard Ellie say ,“Let me help you put your bags in our bedroom.”

No no no no no no no! No! Please!

She couldn’t be left alone with Mary Bartowski. She couldn’t. Not even for however long it took for Ellie and Awesome to make out or whatever it was they were going to do in their bedroom.

When was Chuck going to get here? Why wasn’t he here already?

Sarah spun from where she’d gone back to stirring the spaghetti sauce and caught Ellie’s eye. There was a definite look of apology there, and Sarah was quick to shake her head and smile reassuringly to let the woman know she’d be fine. The Woodcombs deserved a snippet of time to greet each other without onlookers in the room. And Sarah was sure Ellie needed to vent a bit about her mother behind closed doors.

“Need help with anything, Sarah?”

She looked up from the sauce again and smile at Mary. “Uh, I’m not sure, exactly, what Ellie has planned. I just know I’m supposed to stir the sauce.”

“Well, Ellie learned this recipe from me, so I’m sure I can figure out what’s next.”

Sarah kept the smile on her face even as she went back to stirring the delicious-smelling sauce in the pot.

“Though you might want to add a dash of oregano in there. Ellie sometimes doesn’t put enough, I’ve noticed. And she doesn’t take constructive advice well.”

“Oh. Alright.” Grabbing the oregano, she carefully sprinkled a bit more in the sauce, stirring with the spoon in her other hand.

“A bit more…” Sarah sprinkled more. “More than that. Here.” Mary walked up and took the oregano from Sarah, who moved out of the way, and let the woman shake even more oregano into the sauce. “There. That’s perfect.”

She set the oregano down and handed the spoon back to Sarah.

“You know, I find your line of work interesting, Sarah.” Because she didn’t entirely know what was coming, the P.I. stayed quiet, stealing herself for whatever was coming next. “Did it require any schooling?”

Sarah ran her free hand down her blouse, an unconscious attempt to straighten it or…who knew what? But she was mad at herself for it. It was a show of weakness, vulnerability. She was supposed to be above that. “I went to Harvard Law.”

The way Mary’s eyes widened did a lot to bolster Sarah’s confidence. Yeah, that’s right. I’m an Ivy League Bitch with a capital B.

“And you decided to join the Pinkerton Detective Agency? You could be a high powered politician by now, you know. And I know Pinkerton doesn’t pay that kind of money.”

How did she know?

And then Sarah realized she must have done research on it. A way to check up on the woman who was dating her son. Seeing what her financial status was, to peg whether or not money was a factor in Sarah’s interest in Chuck.

It burned her up, but she refused to let it show.

“No, it definitely doesn’t. But it was incredibly rewarding work. I’m proud of what I did there.”

“I see. But you left for my son Charles?”

“Yes. Er…no. Somewhat. Not entirely. But mostly, I suppose.”

“Why?”

“Because I was tired of always being on the other side of the planet from him, only seeing him every once in awhile when we could line up our crazy busy schedules.” She took a deep breath. “And, honestly, the agency did their best to make me stop seeing him because they thought it was a conflict of interest, and I refused to let them do that. So…here I am.” She gave Chuck’s mom a wide closed mouth smile.

“Interesting. Because honestly, Sarah, the way it looks from here is that you left a relatively low-paying job to live with my son and pursue a career that will garner even less financial stability than before…”

“What are you getting at, exactly?” Sarah asked, the spatula stilled in the sauce, her blue eyes flashing as she turned them on the shorter woman.

“My son is a pretty safe safety net if things don’t work out with this agency of yours.”

So she finally said it. Sarah let out a soft huff through her nose, her lips twitching in a semblance of a bitter smile as she looked away.

“I don’t want a safety net. I just want him.”

“It just doesn’t look that way from here. If you weren’t in Los Angeles, if my son wasn’t supporting you and you were off somewhere else in the country trying to get this going, you’d fall flat on your face. The only people who start enterprises like this one are those who have a fallback. Chuck is your fallback. And that doesn’t sit well with me.”

Sarah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and squeezed until it hurt. Then she turned on the woman, her gaze hard.

“You know, it doesn’t feel great, knowing what you think of me. But I can handle insults, backhanded compliments, the condescension, and the superior attitude you have when you address me—and that’s when you aren’t ignoring me completely. All of that I can handle. You know what really makes me mad, though?”

“What?” Mary asked slowly, her T clicking nastily.

“The complete and utter lack of respect you obviously have for your son.”

Mary reared back, her lips twisting. “How dare y—”

“Chuck is rich. He’s the richest person I’ve ever met. If I knew just how rich he actually was, I probably wouldn’t even be able to comprehend it.” Mary smirked in a self-congratulatory way that made Sarah want to say what she was going to say even more than she did before. “But he is so much more than what’s in his bank account.” She let that settle for a second before she continued. “He’s a good man. Best person I’ve ever known. He respects me, has faith in me. He makes me laugh. He makes me happy.”

“His wallet makes you happy.”

Sarah rushed on as if she hadn’t heard that. “And it makes me incredibly sad to hear that’s what you think of your own son. That he’d have nothing else to offer a woman besides what’s in his wallet. He’s your son. You should know better.”

“I know what my son has to offer.”

But it was a weak retort, one that lacked the bite of her earlier retorts, and the conversation came to a sudden stop as the door opened and Chuck stepped into the living room with Stephen in tow.

“Heyyyy!” Chuck drawled with a grin. “Smells like spaghetti!”

Stephen gave both of them smiles over the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room as he shut the door behind them. “I feel like an old man for needing to follow Charles to my own daughter’s condo. All the twists and turns to get here, I get confused. Gosh, it does smell good.”

Mary had moved away from Sarah, going directly to Chuck and grabbing his shoulders, moving in to kiss his cheek. “Hi, sweetie. How was the meeting?”

She moved to her husband and they kissed with a sincere amount of affection. It boggled Sarah’s mind.

“Good!” Chuck swept his gaze to Sarah and kept it there, she noticed, probing, seeing how she was. She kept her mask in place. Now wasn’t the time to break down. She was just so mad. So ready to tear something to shreds. She was fighting tears of anger.

“We’ve got one and a half sponsors for the conference. Just three and a half to go.”

“And a half?” Mary asked.

“Well, Gordon’s not entirely convinced yet. He gave us a maybe,” Stephen explained as Chuck slid away from his parents and walked around into the kitchen.

Sarah watched him the whole way. And when his arms curled around her body, she let go of the spatula and clung to him tightly, burying her face in his collar for a moment, soaking him in. It felt so good to be held like this. The way he squeezed just right, in a way that let her know he needed her, too.

“Oops, spatula down…” he murmured in her hair.

She pulled away from him with a gasp as she saw the spatula sink into the sauce. And like an idiot, she tried to get it out.

She ended up brushing her fingers against the sizzling hot edge of the pot and pulled back with a hiss, sticking her fingers in her mouth.

“Hey, hey. Whoa. Sarah, you oka—?

And before he could even finish his question, Sarah was out of the kitchen. “Sarah??” he called after her.

She hurried down the hallway to the bathroom, fighting tears that had nothing to do with the minor burn on her fingers.

—————

Chuck was moving to follow Sarah before he was even aware of what was happening, like there was a magnetic pull between them. She’d squeezed him particularly hard when he hugged her. Like she had the night she’d shown up at his door after leaving Pinkerton. She needed him.

The only thing he could think was that today had been awful. And now she’d charged out of the room after burning her fingers—a careless thing that was very rare with his P.I.—and he needed to talk to her.

But Ellie and Awesome came out of the hallway as Sarah squeezed past them.

“What happened?” Ellie asked, obviously concerned.

“Sarah burned her fingers, I think. I’m gonna—”

“I’ve got this,” Ellie said, putting a hand on his chest.

“But—”

“I’ve got this.”

She gave him a look and he stayed put, watching as Ellie followed after his girlfriend. He was half-crazy with concern, but Awesome’s hand on his shoulder calmed him.

“Ellie’s a neurosurgeon, bro. Remember? She’s got this.”

Chuck let out a soft huff of amusement for Awesome’s benefit and let himself be led back into the other room. His mom, on the other hand, had a certain look on her face. It was pinched in annoyance. She was far off somewhere, thinking about something, and whatever it was made her angry.

Had something happened today?

Awesome looked pretty clueless, which meant he’d probably arrived just before they had.

There were another few minutes of empty small-talk about Awesome’s surgery he’d performed the day before. Chuck stirred the sauce and eventually turned it off, draining the pasta and leaving it for Ellie to do whatever she had in mind.

And eventually his sister and girlfriend came out to join them. Chuck was at Sarah’s side immediately. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Put a little ointment on my knuckles and I’m good. Nothing too bad.”

He studied her features closely, looking for any sign of tears. If his mom had done something to make Sarah cry, he was dragging her out into the courtyard and blistering her with his words. He wasn’t standing for that shit. That wasn’t happening.

But there was no trace of tears, though she was upset. He could still see it. Ellie must have said something to her, though, because his sister winked at him behind Sarah’s back and mouthed “she’s okay”.

Before Chuck could say anything else, Sarah slipped her uninjured hand into his and pulled him to the table where everyone was sitting down. Awesome justified his nickname by insisting on finishing dishing everything up to keep Ellie from having to do it.

And then they feasted.

Chuck half listened to the conversation at the table. Awesome had performed an artery bypass grafting surgery on a middle aged man, saving his life from a potentially deadly situation.

But as heroic as it was, as much as Awesome deserved praise and respect for what he did for other people, Chuck was distracted by whatever had transpired between his girlfriend and his mother.

Something had transpired. Otherwise Ellie wouldn’t be switching her gaze back and forth between the other women at the table, her eyes narrowed. As though she was trying to figure out the same thing.

It would be just like his mom to wait until nobody else was around before jamming the knife in under Sarah’s ribcage. But his mom didn’t look as pleased with herself as he thought she might if that were the case. Did Sarah bite back? He was proud of her if she did.

Chuck knew inherently that Sarah would be more apt to stick up for herself if the perpetrator wasn’t his mother. She’d outright told him once that she loved him and therefore didn’t want him to be in the middle of some ridiculous rivalry straight out of a “crap romantic comedy”.

He appreciated more than he could say how hard she was trying…

But he didn’t want this.

He would deal with the fallout with his mom. He didn’t care.

“Chuck?”

He snapped to attention and looked across the table at his father. “Yeah, Dad? Sorry, I—I got distracted. Lots of things happenin’ in the ol’ noggin’ today. What were you saying?” He shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth and sipped his pinot noir.

“I was just asking what you thought about our chances for getting Gordon to sponsor the convention?”

He nibbled his lip, then dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “Well, I don’t know. He’s the type of guy who doesn’t part well with his assets. Very frugal. We’re still in the early stages yet. Still a lot to plan. But I think once he hears everything we mean to do at the convention, the lives we might change, how massive it’ll be for the future of STEM and, you know, getting kids from low-income households into science and math and tech, he’ll see the benefit of it. Maybe we can really pound home the fact that charity looks really really good to consumers. A charitable company always gets more customers, right? People love that stuff. Makes them feel good about themselves.” Chuck shrugged. “Granted, that’s a kind of crappy way to look at it. Obviously we’re doing it to help kids, to expand STEM in our country to non-wealthy, non-white kids with fewer resources than other kids…”

“That’s right, Charles. It’s one of the things that attracts people to you. You’re so charitable. Always giving, giving, giving. Never asking for anything in return,” his mother said. He wasn’t a fool. He saw the way her eyes flickered over at Sarah for a moment before she turned back to him.

He felt Sarah tense up.

He understood what his mom was getting at.

But before he could say anything, his dad jumped up from the table. “Hey, Devon. Why don’t you tell me about that ’64 Mustang your dad is fixing up? He told me about it last time we talked. He said you’re helping him with it while you’re down here.”

As his brother-in-law regaled his dad with muscle car talk, Chuck turned an angry gaze on his mom. He reeled it back just enough and then flicked his gaze towards the kitchen. “Hey, Mom. How about you and I do the dishes, since Ellie and Sarah cooked everything?”

“Sure.” She climbed up from the chair, and set her napkin on the table. “Excuse us.”

Chuck gathered up everyone’s plates, letting Mary go first, watching as Ellie turned to Sarah and leaned in close to talk to her. He went to the sink with the plates and set them inside, turning on the water and starting to scrub as his mom stepped in beside him with the dish towel to dry.

“You need to lay off right damn now,” he said in a quiet, steady voice.

“Excuse me? I don’t know what—”

“You fooled absolutely nobody at that table and it’s embarrassing that you’re still trying to play it off, Mom. I need you to stop saying shit like that to Sarah.” He turned to pin her with his intense gaze.

“Like what? I didn’t say anything to her this whole time we’ve been eating.”

“That whole thing about me giving and never asking for anything in return. You looked right at her. Like she’s some sort of charity case of mine. Like I’m supporting her.”

“You are supporting her.”

“I’m not. She won’t let me. You need to open your eyes and really look at her, Mom.”

“I’ve seen her.”

“No. You haven’t. Not like I have.”

“Oh I’m sure,” she replied sarcastically.

Chuck handed her the clean plate to dry and spun to face her directly. “Hey. Mom. I need you to lay off. I said it before. I’ll say it again. And this better be the last time I have to say it. Because you’re gonna run into a lot of trouble if you keep going down this road. I’m so serious.”

She didn’t say anything as she set the dry plate aside. “Just wash the dishes.”

“No. Mom, I need you to tell me you’ll try harder.”

“To do what? I’m not letting my son get taken for a ride.”

“I’m not getting taken for a ride,” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one in the other room could hear them. They all looked fully engrossed in their respective conversations. He turned back. “Even if I was, that’s a ride I’d gladly take over and over again.”

She made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat and grabbed the plate from him, drying it furiously.

“Mom. I need your word.”

“I don’t want to have to say ‘I told you so’ when you get hurt. When you find out your wallet is—”

“Mom. For shit’s sake. Just stop.” He turned off the sink for a second and glared. “Stop.”

She shrugged and sighed. “Okay.”

Chuck could tell that was the best he was getting for the time being, so he turned the water back on and finished the dishes.

Stephen and Mary left first, a storm cloud over the latter’s head in spite of the smile she flashed as they walked into the courtyard and disappeared through the gate.

Ellie put a hand on Chuck’s arm as Sarah and Awesome hugged at the door. She hugged him hard and when he meant to pull away, she clung tighter, preventing him from moving.

“Make sure you take care of her tonight. Mom was a total and absolute bitch to her all day. She handled it well, but she’s pretty badly blistered from the onslaught. You have some work to do.”

She pulled back and added a quick, whispered, “Love ya.”

“Love ya, too, Ellie. And thank you.” She shrugged and he leaned in close, squeezing her shoulders. “No, seriously. Sis. Thank you.”

Her eyes sparkled as she pat his cheek, and Chuck wrapped an arm around his brother-in-law, before they said their goodbyes and left.

Chuck slung his arm over Sarah’s shoulders and pulled her in close as she rounded his torso with both her arms and buried her face in his chest with a sigh.

They climbed into his car and he just sat there for a moment, the silence tense and awkward. She had to feel that he wanted to say something. He just didn’t know what.

“Are you okay, Sarah?” he finally settled with.

She bit her lip gently and shrugged. “Uh, yeah.” She lifted her hand and flashed the fingers she’d burned at him. “Don’t think it’ll scar or anything. I was just being clumsy and dumb—”

“Sarah, no. I—”

“I know, Chuck. But I really don’t want to talk about it just yet. Please.”

“Did she—?”

“Please. Later.” She turned and stared out of her car window, not looking at him for even a moment as she buckled her seatbelt.

Chuck sighed and followed suit, turning on the car and pulling out of the parking space, onto the street, and driving them back to Sarah’s.

The drive was silent, tense.

And by the time they got to Sarah’s apartment, Chuck felt the need to corner her, make her talk. He needed her to know that he wasn’t letting his mom pull this bullshit with her. He wasn’t brushing it off just because she was his mom. Sarah deserved respect.

But Sarah Walker looked tired and upset. And he wasn’t sure he had the heart to corner her when she was like this. So he stayed in the hallway as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

She halted when he didn’t follow, turning to face him. She must’ve figured out why he was still outside and she shyly pushed her hair back behind her ear.

“Will you stay?”

Not a single moment passed before he answered, “Of course.”

Sarah’s hand reached out and twisted in his shirt, pulling him inside with her, shutting the door behind them and clinging to him again. He didn’t say anything. He just held her.

They could talk later. When she wanted to.