The Nerd Versus the P.I. Family

By Steampunk . Chuckster

A/N: Well. Hi. I'm just telling you all up-front. This will be multiple chapters. No, I don't know how many. I'm not begging anyone for kindness as I go through this process because I've never written this very specific kind of fan fiction before, but I did just write the beginning of this sentence in the hopes it makes you feel like you need to be kind anyway so HEEHEE. (toothy grin) The only thing I ask is for folks to practice some patience with me. I'm a little out of my league on this one. But I genuinely hope it's enjoyable. And that it provides some space for you to lower your blood pressure and get some semblance of comfort.

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

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

It was raining the night she showed up at Carina's apartment, her coat hanging wet and limp from her shoulders, her hair plastered to her face by the rain, and her eyeliner smudged under her blue eyes that were bloodshot and filled with hurt.

For someone who was usually quick to revert to snark when she was out of her element, or sarcasm and teasing, the redheaded lawyer had surprised Sarah Walker, instead pulling her friend in for a tight hug; no snark, no sarcasm, no teasing.

"What happened?" she asked, letting Sarah just cling, half in-half out of the hallway. "Here, come inside. Come on. We'll come inside and get us a towel, hm?"

Sarah cried. For some reason Carina's voice sans-snark was making her cry. Why on Earth her best friend being sincere for once instead of hiding behind a smirk and some comment with a lot of innuendo in it made her cry, she didn't know.

When she hadn't cried in front of him, or even on the drive to Carina's.

It wasn't until she pulled up to the curb to park that the tears had started. And now there was more than just tears. She was on the verge of sobs.

But she let Carina lead her inside anyway, shutting the door and locking it, before helping her take the coat off.

"Oh my God, every bit of you is wet. What did you do, walk here?"

"N-No, it's…raining h-hard," Sarah stuttered, trying to keep from losing it completely and crawling to the floor of Carina's entryway to curl into a ball.

"Okay, let me get you a towel and you tell me what—"

"It's over," she breathed, swallowing the lump in her throat and wiping at her cheeks. "We had a long talk, sat down at his kitchen table and just talked. And it's over."

"Just like that, huh?" Carina asked, crossing her arms at her chest, a bemused look on her pretty face.

"Yeah. And it's—It isn't exactly what I expected but…" She sniffled and shrugged. "I asked him if he loves me. He doesn't. I saw it in his face right when I asked. And I can't do this with someone I'm not in love with, someone who doesn't love me. That isn't a good way to raise a kid."

Carina sighed and nodded. "That's true."

"To his credit, he was at least honest. He said it's been fun, that he likes me, that maybe eventually it could've been something good but…" She fought back the pain in her chest. "This changes it all. He has different plans for himself. For his future. He can't raise a kid."

"Hm. Sounds a little bit like a selfish piece of shit."

Sarah felt the ache ebbing, even as the tears kept falling. "I don't know. Half of me hates him. This is fifty percent his doing. I didn't get pregnant on my own." Carina assented that point with a shrug, pressing her lips together. "But the other half… I'll just be glad when he's out of my life."

"And…so…it's really over?"

Sarah nodded, slipping a hand down unconsciously to lay it over her stomach. "Yeah. That's done."

"So how is this going to work?" She wandered away from Sarah then and opened the cabinet in the nearby hallway, coming back with a large, purple, fluffy towel and wrapping it around her friend's shoulders.

"We talked about that, too. I was weirdly calm through the whole thing and he was the freaked out one." She sniffed and rolled her eyes. "He doesn't want any part of this. None of it."

"So he's willing to sign over his parental rights? Legally?"

"I told him I would come over with a lawyer for that purpose exactly and he was more than eager to agree."

"Shit. Wow."

Sarah shivered a bit and looked Carina right in the face. "It's best this way. As fun as things were with us, I'm sure of this, more sure of this than I've ever been of anything. I can't describe it, Carina." She felt her stomach again. "I mean, they're barely there inside of me right now, can't even feel it, not even really the size of anything right now, probably. But it just feels like…"

"Like it's right?"

"Yeah. I know a lot of women would make a different decision. I'm only twenty-three, you know? And I'll have no partner to raise this child with. I'm only a few years in on my career with the LAPD, but I…I know this is the right decision for me."

"The important thing is that we make these decisions for ourselves." Carina rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "That's what you're doing, Sar. I'm proud of you for giving it to him straight."

"He gave it to me straight right back." Sarah scoffed. "It didn't feel great. I know where I stand with him." Carina winced at that. "I'm doing this, Carina. I'm about to figure all of this out on my own. Once I get a lawyer to help me get him to sign away his rights to this child, of course. Then he's out of my life forever and I can focus on everything else."

"Well, you've got a lawyer. Right here. Sort of. An almost lawyer."

Sarah smiled warmly. "Thanks, Red. This is gonna be nuts. And I'm doing it all on my own." She didn't much relish saying the next words that came out of her mouth but it was the truth. "I'm scared."

"I get that you're scared, Blondie. I get it." Carina wrapped her arm around her and pulled her in for a side hug, kissing her hair. "This was…quite the decision you made here. Not just to keep this baby but to ditch the father, kick him out of your life."

"He couldn't get out fast enough," she said wryly. "I'm going to be twenty-four next month, Carina. And pregnant. Oh my God."

"Have you talked to your parents?"

"They know. But not about—I'll tell them about him tomorrow. I need a break tonight. And then I'll tell them tomorrow."

"Well, that's the first thing, Sarah. You're not alone. Okay? You know that, right? You've got family. Your mom and dad aren't gonna leave you out to dry, kid. You know that. I know firsthand, they've pulled me in like I'm their second kid practically thanks to my deadbeat folks." She rolled her eyes and Sarah wrapped her arm around her waist, hugging her friend. "Stop it. No pity party. You've got me, too. That's my point."

"Thank you." Sarah turned and gave her a proper hug, squeezing tight.

When she pulled back, she let Carina find her some extra pajamas, she used her shower, and she took a long time, just standing in the hot shower spray, letting it cascade over her head and down her body, both hands clutching at her stomach, thinking about how hard this was going to be now.

As much as Carina was right that she wouldn't be truly alone, she was still going to be raising this child alone. She'd only entertained the thought of getting rid of it for a little while, her relationship so new, only a few months into it, knowing a baby would ruin not just the relationship but so much other stuff in her life, her career, any other schooling she might want to do… But then she'd talked to her mom for a while, a long while, just the two of them, after her father left the room to be alone and deal with the news that his twenty-three year old daughter had gotten pregnant well before she'd been even thinking about that sort of thing. And she realized as she talked things out with her mom—rambling about her emotions, how she felt about everything, what she wanted—that she was terrified…but that more than anything, she needed this.

While it might not be what felt right for others, it felt right for her.

Now that the biological father was running in the other direction from her, and from fatherhood, as fast as he could, she was going it alone. A single parent.

She let herself grieve the end of her relationship, how abrupt and hurtful it was, even though she wasn't in love with him, even though this was for the best.

Tomorrow, she'd start fresh.

She'd figure everything out in due time.

But she had a new priority now.

And it had to be her top priority.

}o{

"I'm being serious, man… Can you just be serious for a second? Come on, Chuck…"

Chuck shook his head and chuckled, leaning over the Nerd Herd desk and eyeing his best friend seriously. "Sorry. I'm serious."

"Okay, then, answer the question."

"Ask it again, just so I have it straight. In here." He tapped his temple, still affecting seriousness.

"Will it ruin the whole effect of the costume if I go to Erin's birthday party as The Spirit with no fedora?" Chuck winced. "Damn, I knew it!"

Morgan pounded the desk with his palm, disappointment on his face. "Where the hell do I get a fedora that fits my extra large head in time for tonight? I can't show up as a fedora-less The Spirit! It's ruined! I can't go. That's all there is to it."

"Morgs, come onnn. You have to go, buddy!" He thunked his best friend on the shoulder and squeezed. "You've been waiting for this party for weeks! It's Erin! Your dream girl!"

"I was gonna look so hot in that costume. With the mask and the beard."

"Technically, The Spirit doesn't have a beard…but I guess that's neither here nor there," Chuck finished in a rush as he got a glare from Morgan. "But what's up with this fedora thing? I thought you had one. You showed it to me at your apartment. Bolonia was so proud of the band she attached around the…you know, the thingy."

"She left it on her sewing machine and that bastard cat Zorro made his mark on it."

"Wait, he made a Z on it with his little cat nail?" Chuck exclaimed, his jaw falling open.

"No, he took a shit in it, Chuck! God!" Chuck choked out a laugh and covered his mouth with both hands, earning the ire of his best friend. He couldn't help it. It was funny. It was really funny. "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh at my suffering. The girl of my dreams…gone…like a beautiful green-eyed specter…was she merely a figment of my dreams after all?" he asked melodramatically in his best Shakespearean pose.

"I'm sorry, bud." He pat Morgan's shoulder. Something occurred to him then and he stood up to his full height and snapped his fingers. "Oh my God. Morgs. I've got it. Shave off one side of your facial hair, screw up your face a bit, give yourself a bit of makeup on the shaved side…" He twisted one side of his mouth into an ungodly shape. "You're Two-Face. Just carry around a coin and flip it every so often," he said still making the face.

"That's…not bad, Chuck. That's not bad at all. You—"

"Bartowski!"

Chuck spun, his lip still curled as he faced the manager of the store. Big Mike Tucker stopped short and widened his eyes. "D'you need an old priest and a young priest, boy? What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"I, uh…" He fixed his face and cleared his throat. "Sorry, Big Mike. Just went to the dentist this morning and they gave me one of those numbing shots." He poked his jaw.

"Oh, nice, dude," Morgan whispered. Chuck elbowed him less subtly than he meant to. "Ow!"

"Right. Okay." Big Mike shook himself a bit, then sipped his coffee. "I have to relieve myself—"

"Good to know, Sir," Chuck interrupted.

"Yeah, thanks for the update, man," Morgan added.

They both got a glare. "Don't you boys get my levels up today, y'here? Already got those idiots Jeff and Lester barking like dogs at a damn child after they beat her at one of our demos. Made her cry and now I've got a call with the district manager on my hands if that baby's mama calls corporate. Think those damn assholes are on somethin' today." He scratched behind his ear, seemingly befuddled.

"Well, sir. With all due respect, you could fire them," Chuck spoke up.

"Nah, I don't think so."

Chuck exchanged a look with Morgan. "With all due respect, I think you could. You know, for…barking at another human…who is underage."

"Who's really of age for getting barked at by another human, though? Let alone two humans…" Morgan muttered, thrusting a hand out, palm up, a reasonable tone to his voice.

"Fair point, Morgster. Fair point." He pointed at the shorter bearded man.

"Okay, enough. Y'all are giving me a headache. And you, Bartowski? I want to see you in my office. That was what I was going to say before you two so rudely interrupted me."

"Chuck, why'd you interrupt Big Mike? Not kosher, dude."

Chuck smacked his friend's shoulder. "Right. Got it."

"My office! Ten minutes!" Big Mike gave him a threatening look and left them behind to head for the break room.

"Is he taking his coffee into the bathroom with him? Grosssss," Morgan groused under his breath once Big Mike was out of earshot.

"Yeah, that's actually pretty nasty. I don't even take water bottles with me into the bathroom. Good to know, though. Never touch anything on Big Mike's desk."

"Nothing. Nope. Not a thing." They were quiet for a few minutes, and then Morgan piped up. "So Massive Michael's office, huh? What'd you do, pal?"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Uh, the work of every other Nerd Herder as well as my own?" he sniped. "You know they abandoned me in the cage last night. Did I tell you that?"

"Eleven ti—Actually no, twelve. This was the twelfth time."

Chuck ignored the sass. "I had to fix an insane pile of old Dells. By myself. It took me all freaking night, man. And when I texted everyone to see why they hadn't shown up? I got one text. One. From Skip. And it said—"

"Dude! You're gettin' a Dell!" Morgan drawled. He shook his head. "Not even funny. I mean, I would've chuckled a bit, just, you know, for nostalgia's sake. But what a dick move. Skip's a dick."

"They're all dicks. All of 'em. God, there's just, like, no discipline and Big Mike does nothing to change that. But of course, if anything went wrong, we'd get busted."

"I know, buddy. Only reason it hasn't gone wrong is 'cause you've got everyone's slack."

"Yes. Exactly. And I'm exhausted. I'm a youthful, spry, virile twenty-three year old man, Morgan. And I'm being held back by this…job. By this job, dude. I have a degree in computer science. Screw this economy. Screw it."

"That's right, Chuck. Let it out, buddy." Morgan thumped him on the back a few times.

By the time he finally walked into Big Mike's office, the manager had cleaned off his desk to look almost…presentable. It actually looked neat. And he was wearing a suit jacket over his usual uniform of a button-up and a tie that was typically stained with donut grease or a pickle smear or something.

"Good. Right on time. Give him a minute and I'm sure he'll be here."

"He?" Chuck asked, shutting the door behind him and furrowing his brow. "He who…uh, sir?"

Before Mike could answer, the door opened and Chuck had to hop out of the way to keep from getting smacked with it. A short, bespectacled man with thinning hair on top of his head stepped inside, a toothy grin on his face.

"Well, well, well, Artemis my ol' pal!" Big Mike leapt up from his desk and hurried over to shake the much smaller man's hand. "Welcome back to my humble abode." He finished it off with a belly laugh, pumping "Artemis's" hand still.

"Big Mike! You're a sight for sore eyes!"

"Sore eyes, huh? You gotta up the power on them glasses!" He pointed at the short man and they laughed together, finally letting each other out of the handshake and turning to face Chuck. "Well, let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Yes. Is this him?"

Chuck raised his eyebrows in response.

"This is the fella. Chuck!" Mike boomed, "This is Artemis Gallagher, Buy More manager of the entire Southern California region. You at sixty stores now, Art?"

"Well…" Art giggled and pushed his glasses up, looking very proud of himself even as he feigned modesty. "Sixty-one now. Just got a new one opened in Encinitas."

"That's right! Congrats, my man."

"Well, thank you. Team effort. Team effort…"

Big Mike snapped back to the point, thank God. "This here is Charles Bartowski. We call 'im Chuck around here, ain't that right?"

Chuck nodded, a crooked smile on his face.

"Well, why don't we all have a seat and get started, hm?" Artemis stepped forward to take Chuck's proffered hand. Thankfully the handshake wasn't as long as the one Big Mike had just shared with the regional manager.

Chuck sat in the rolling chair at the corner of Big Mike's desk, letting Mr. Gallagher take the more comfortable one as the Burbank Buy More manager plopped back into the most comfortable chair in the room behind his desk.

"Son, you've been doing the work," Big Mike started. "Don't think I haven't seen you, because I have." Chuck widened his eyes. "I know, I know. You all think I just walk around the store to get my daily exercise." He paused. "Well, it's that too. But mostly! I do it to watch who's workin'…and who's goofin' off!"

What Big Mike didn't know was that every single employee in the Burbank Buy More had his daily schedule, and then more broadly, his weekly schedule, mapped out in their heads, especially the longtime employees—one of which Chuck happened to be—and they knew when and where they could "goof off" without him knowing about it.

There was also the time Chuck replaced security camera footage with pre-recorded footage so that he and Morgan could get away with sleeping over in the home theater room to screen a Godzilla marathon. It had only been the one time and they were nineteen. Four years ago. They'd practically still been kids.

"I know you fixed those computers last night, too. And you did a damn good job. We'll get good returns on those. And you're gonna see an increase in your pay."

Chuck sat up straighter, then glanced at a quiet Mr. Gallagher, before looking back at Big Mike. "I-I am? How much? I mean…uh…Thank your, sir. Sirs. Is what I meant to say."

"What your boss is trying to say, Mr Bartowski," Gallagher finally spoke up, setting his briefcase down at his feet finally. "is that the Buy More corporation recognizes your distinct work ethic, and your skillsets could be invaluable to the company."

"Son, the only reason I feel rest assured enough to take a vacation is because I know you won't let this place crumble while I'm gone. Or explode. I see the way you work with your coworkers, and with the customers. You do the work, you get the reward, Chuck."

"Reward?" Was he getting a bonus? God, he could put that towards his damn student loan repayments. Or, more likely, he could upgrade his Playstation headset and controllers. That was definitely what he was going to do.

"That's right, son."

"Chuck, Mike sat down with me a few weeks ago and told me that you are a tech genius. A wiz. That you're being wasted merely as a member of the Nerd Herd. You see, the Buy More has made the decision to start expanding the Nerd Herd services to more than just individual customers or small businesses. We want everyone to come to us for our Nerd Herders. We've had a pilot program going in NYC already and it ran extremely smoothly. We're contacting someone in Central and Northern California. We want you to be our Nerd Herd Specialist for the Southern California region. Companies will have a direct line to you, and you will provide them with your skillsets, help them set up their wireless, set-up tech for presentations, tackle viruses in computer systems, whatever else you usually do for customers from the Nerd Herd desk." Mr. Gallagher tapped his fingers on Big Mike's desk as Chuck just gaped at the older man, not sure if he was dreaming. "How's that sound to you, young man?"

"I'd be the Nerd Herd…Specialist…I'd handle all of Southern California? Alone?"

"Well, only the really important jobs. We had Mr. Rudy in NYC—our specialist there—work with the NYPD for a few weeks to help them stop an underground large scale tech scam."

"That is awesome!" he couldn't help blurting.

"Mm. And that's just the start of the job you'd be doing. Of course, you may utilize your Nerd Herd teams in any of our sixty-one Southern California stores if you need them for a job. Like I said, this is still in the beginning stages, but we'd like an answer from you by tomorrow on whether or not you're interest—"

"Yes." Both men blinked at him and he pulled his shoulders back, raising his chin a bit. "I'm interested. I'm in. Sign me up." Then he leaned in a bit. "But tell me a bit more about the, uh, potential pay raise…"

}o{

Three Years Later

Chuck waited with bated breath, staring at the screen, watching, a small crowd looking down over his shoulder. The quiet beep sounded and the blip showed up on the screen. "There he is."

"Have we got coordinates?"

Chuck quickly grabbed a pen and wrote them down, passing it over his shoulder. A hand snatched it from his fingers.

"Good work, geek," someone mumbled from over his other shoulder.

"Nerd, actually. I-I prefer….nerd. It's kind of…the moniker…" He spun to face the laptop again when her face didn't budge from the half-glare he'd found there when he turned to look at her. "Uh…anyway…"

"All right, we've got nearby squad cars headed there now. We'll get 'em yet," the captain came back around to the desk, his phone at his ear. "No shots fired, you hear me? Just bring him in."

He hung up as the crowd dispersed and looked down at Chuck. "You sure that's the right place?"

"It is. I found his electricity bill and it's through the roof. Nobody's bill is that large for a private home. Unless he's trying to contact extraterrestrials in outer space, which…well, that's possible, I guess."

He pushed his chair back from the desk where they'd had him set up when he arrived at the LAPD downtown precinct for the job two days ago. And he'd been stationed at the desk every day, for most of the day, however long the captain and his squad needed him.

He was tired and restless. Rundown. And he wondered how these people did this day in and day out.

Captain Casey's phone went off and he pointed at Chuck, snapping, "Don't budge, not done with you yet," before he answered his phone. "Yeah…"

Chuck held his hands up in surrender and stayed put. What did it mean when the captain of the LAPD downtown precinct said, "I'm not done with you yet"? His first thought was that he'd somehow broken the law while he was helping the LAPD catch a thief hacker over the past two days. He hadn't been paying attention, or maybe he just wasn't well versed on the law as far as technology and breaking and entering. He'd broken some sort of law, they'd seen it, and now he'd be arrested for criminal hacking or something.

Shit, if he had to share a cell with the guy he helped the LAPD catch just now, he'd be murdered.

He was going to be one of those statistics of guys who got murdered in prison, oh God.

Chuck eyed the exit. The elevator. That was the only place he could go. Unless there was a stairwell. There had to be a stairwell. That was fire code or whatever. And earthquake code. But where would they keep that? Maybe down the hallway past the elevator. If he made it that far.

He was literally surrounded by cops.

And then he calmed himself down and rolled his eyes a little at his own paranoia. He wasn't getting arrested. That was ridiculous.

Capt. Casey grinned into his phone. "Good work, Officer Tran. Bring him in. I want to be the first to question him."

He hung up and turned to everyone. "It was an abandoned car garage near the pier. Almost stereotypical. Filled to the ceiling with gadgets and computers and devices. Had a whole operation goin' on. Not just him but five other little helpers. Enough evidence in there to get them on multiple felonies. Good work, squad."

There were hoots behind Chuck, a few high fives, and when everyone else moved back to their desks, chattering away, Casey looked down at Chuck then, crossing his arms. "Invaluable again, kid. Never thought I'd say that to an employee of the Buy More."

"…Thanks?" He cleared his throat. "I guess…"

"I'll be sure to contact your superior and let them know."

"Thank you, Captain…sir. Nice workin' with y—" But as he rose to stand, a hand came down on his shoulder and he thumped back into the chair. He gulped. "Was there…something else?"

"Just a little somethin'." Casey leaned down and looked him in his face. "Where'd a guy who clicks around on laptops and fixes cell phones at a Buy More Nerd Herd desk learn how to do the crazy shit I saw you do the last two days?"

Chuck pursed his lips.

"I'd like to know the same thing."

He turned in his chair to look up. The same detective as before stood there with her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. Her name was Detective Rizzo and she wore a lot of leather, he'd noticed. She also didn't smile much, which was fine. But she hit things a lot too. Hard enough that she'd made him jump on more than one occasion.

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Jackass," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Not gonna fess up, huh?" Captain Casey nodded. "Okay." Chuck must've had a nervous look on his face because the bulky fellow smirked with a grunt. "I'm not gonna bust ya, kid. I'm just curious."

"We're not gonna bust him?" Det. Rizzo asked as Chuck was finally allowed to stand up and pack up his things.

"For what? Helping us catch a bunch of criminals who were stealing from the elderly?" Casey shrugged. "S'far as I'm concerned, as long as he doesn't bite my ass and keeps being available for us to call on for stuff like this, I don't really care much." He then turned a warning glare on Chuck. "Don't misstep though, kid. And don't bite my ass."

"I…won't…bite your ass." He blinked.

"Yeah, well… I don't trust the string bean. Got my eye on you, Geek." And she strode away, practically gliding back to her desk, cool and calm, but with dangerous electricity sparking in the air around her. He found he almost wanted to be her. He wished he could command that kind of energy. Damn.

"Either she likes and respects me, or she hates my guts…" he muttered so only the captain could hear.

"She hates your guts."

"Yeah. Yeah, I was leaning towards that one, too." He cleared his throat and ran his hand down his tie, fixing his jacket, before he grabbed his messenger bag and swung it over his shoulder. "Good doing business with you, Captain, sir." He stuck his hand out.

The other man grunted and shook his hand. "We need you again, we…call the Buy More?" He curled his lip as he said it.

"You're the LAPD, Captain, sir." Chuck pulled a business card with his personal cell that he didn't tend to give out freely from a pocket in his bag. "You have a direct line to me."

Casey took it and lifted it with a jaunty little shake. "Got it. Thanks. I'll keep it handy."

"Am I…dismissed?" Chuck asked then after standing there for a few awkward seconds.

The other man gave him a what the fuck look. "You're not one of my officers, moron. Go."

"Right."

Chuck hurried out of there, attempting to be the picture of cool-headedness, as if what he'd done the last two days was just a part of the job. As if it was a piece of cake. But inwardly, he was distracted, nearly bumping into someone, apologizing, and rushing into the elevator without even glancing at them.

The moment he climbed into his car and shut his door, he let out a loud whoop and pumped his fist. He'd just done that. Two whole days of nonstop work, and he'd impressed a couple of cops at the downtown precinct of the LAPD, including the captain himself, Captain John Casey.

It felt good. It felt really good. He wasn't about to become a police officer, one of LA's finest. He'd never be able to do that job. He wasn't cut out for that kind of work. And if he was honest with himself, it had stressed him the hell out sitting in a room with all of them hovering around him, watching his every move, even if none of them could follow what he was doing.

At least for a little while, he was ready to go back to the corporate offices, installing WiFi and getting rid of viruses that unprofessional employees had brought onto their systems by combing sites they shouldn't be combing.

Police work? Way too much at stake.

And Chuck Bartowski wasn't cut out for that life. Not a bit.

Shaking his head, he pulled out of the precinct visitor's lot and made his way back to the Buy More in Burbank.

}o{

Sarah leaned into her car's backseat and peered at her son, still strapped into his carseat and grinning up at her happily, putting his toy horse on his head full of brown wavy hair. "Okay, cutie, I need you to listen. Are you listening."

"Ya, Mommy."

"Yes?"

"Yaaa!"

She gave him a flat look for the slight eye-roll tone to his response. "You're wearing your big boy underwear today, no diaper, because I trust you. I trust you to tell me when you have to go potty. Okay? We're going into your mommy's old job. And we can't have any accidents like the one last week at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Remember?"

He frowned and nodded seriously. "I know."

"You just tell Mommy if you have to go, okay? Like now… Do you have to go now?" He shook his little head. "You sure?" He nodded. "Okay. Good. Come on, Max."

It took a bit for her to unbuckle him because he played a game, giggling and trying to push her hands away from the buckle, all four buckles she had to unclip to get him out. She was glad he was safe in this seat, but it didn't make it any less annoying that it was like getting her toddler out of a damn straight jacket.

She finally hoisted him up into her arms and grunted. "You're going to get so heavy I can't carry you anymore, kiddo."

"No tank ooo!" he said, wrapping his arms around her neck and hugging her tight.

Sarah giggled and shut the car door, pressing the button to lock it, readjusting the straps of her massive bag she had to carry around everywhere with her when she had Max, and walking towards the police station entrance. "I agree! I hope not anytime soon. Are you excited to see your old friends?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah?"

An officer walking out held the door for her. She thanked her and stepped inside, going straight for the elevator. "You still don't have to go to the potty, right? Should we go try before we see our friends?"

"No, I don't ha' to potty." He put his horse into his mouth and gnawed a little on its hoof. And that shy look was coming back onto his face again. They were mere moments away from seeing other people and Max always got like this. She didn't know if it was a phase or if this was just how he was now. Either way it was something he'd definitely inherited from her.

She pressed the button for her old floor and the doors slid shut. She still missed it sometimes, the camaraderie of working with the LAPD, her desk out in the middle of the floor, everyone else hustling and bustling around her, phones ringing…just the way it could sometimes be a total mess, even with how efficient they were as a squad. She did miss it.

It was a lot easier being a private investigator now. Her schedule wasn't as packed, she had more time for Max, and she could take him with her to her office on the days when she wasn't meeting with a client. She loved those days.

Max with everything sprawled out on the floor of her office, playing with his toys or coloring something, or napping on her couch cuddling Mub, his stuffed elephant.

It had been for the best, stepping away from her job with the LAPD a year after she gave birth to Max. If things were different, if she'd been in a good relationship with a man she loved and they were both there to raise him together, maybe she could've stayed here instead of opening her own agency so that she could control her work schedule. Because he'd be with his dad while she was working and then with her while his dad was working, but that wasn't how her life had turned out.

That wasn't how Max's life was going to be.

And she knew eventually she might run into questions about that. They'd hit some bumps in the road. She'd gotten the diatribe from her dad when she was still pregnant. About how Max would get bullied in school for not having a dad.

It hadn't changed anything when he'd said it except that it had made her pissed.

The elevator doors hissed open and she strode out, nearly bumping into someone who was making their way into the elevator.

"Oh, 'scuse me," she breathed, stepping aside, distracted.

"I'm so sorry!"

She stood and looked at the precinct, smiling a bit at it, and then she turned and looked at Max, smiling harder. "We're here, huh, Max?"

"Mhm."

She grinned and bounced him a little, making him giggle, and then she walked through the swinging gate and made her way towards the back where the captain's office was. She saw through the open blinds that he was on his phone, looking serious.

"Oh my God!"

Sarah spun on her heel as Detective Rizzo rushed over, her arms stretched out. "Hi, Z."

"It's my favorite guy on the whole planet! Hi, Max!" The grin on her son's face when he turned and saw Zondra, his favorite person at the precinct, made her heart seize in her chest. He was always shy at first with Zondra, but it only took him a minute or two to warm up. "Can I?" she asked Sarah.

"Well hi to you, too. Dang."

Zondra gave her a look. "Sup, Walker."

"I know, I know. You all just love me for my super cute son. I show up without him and I'm chopped liver."

"Even when you show up with him," Zondra teased. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"What do you think, Max? Want to hang out with Zondra for a bit while Mommy talks business with the captain?"

Max nodded shyly and reached out for the brunette detective who took him happily and beamed harder than the woman ever had in the years they'd worked together after Sarah graduated from the Academy and joined the squad. "I yike your jacket," he muttered quietly, pulling his chin back into his chest, still nibbling on his toy.

"You like it? That makes me feel better. I wore it because I knew you'd be here today," Zondra said. "Obviously." And she walked him to her desk.

Just as Sarah turned back to Captain Casey's office, the man himself stepped out and smirked. "Really, Walker? Bringing a baby into this place that's swarming with drug dealers?"

"I thought you said Detective Fuller kicked the habit."

"Haaaa," he snarked, curling his lip, even though she could see the amusement. "Seriously, though. I told you when you still worked here that this isn't the best place for that kid."

"Oh, come on. Zondra is good for him. It's good for him to be around strong women. Also I'm pretty sure she'd commit murder before she'd let anything happen to him," she admitted, watching the two interact from afar with a soft smile on her face.

"We all would, and you know that."

Sarah gave him an 'awww' pout and tilted her head. "Listen, I can't get my dad to stop watching things like Inherent Vice while he's babysitting my kid, with Max in the room."

"The hell? He let Max watch that?"

"Well, Max plays with his toys on the floor and doesn't understand a thing that's happening, nor is he interested, but once he gets old enough to actually understand those kinds of words, he's not going to be going to PopPop's until PopPop can figure out how to watch more wholesome TV that isn't gonna teach my kid violence and bad language."

Casey snickered. "He's not gonna like that."

"Tough shit, it's my kid." She smirked. And then she sobered up. "So what's going on? Why'd you need to see me?"

"We might have some work for ya."

"Thank God," she groused candidly.

"Come into my office." He gestured with a flick of his head and went back in.

Sarah turned to Zondra's desk, Max now plopped on it as they talked. Sarah walked over to them.

"…and the hoze has metal feet dat go CLOP CLOP. And it has teef like mine." He pulled at his lips to show Zondra his teeth. "And a biiiig nose. See da nose?"

"I see the big nose." Zondra turned then to look up. "Go, I've got him," she said, smiling.

"Hey, be good. Listen to Zondra, huh?" Sarah leaned in to kiss his head, ruffling his chestnut colored hair.

"Okay, Mommy!"

She mouthed, "Thank you" at the brunette and got a wink, before she rushed into Casey's office. "So what's this work you've got for me, boss?"

"I ain't your boss anymore, Walker."

"Maybe not officially, but whenever you toss work my way, you sort of are still. Let me live a little, Captain. My boss that I have now isn't great."

He snorted. "That's bullshit. She gives you time off whenever you want it."

"Touché," she giggled. Even if the health insurance wasn't quite as good as it had been, that was definitely a big perk to this new endeavor.

They both sobered up a bit and he grabbed a file from his desk, handing it to her. "You hear about this? It was in the papers last week."

She opened it and looked inside. "Yeah, actually. The DA gave this to Carina. You just arrested the guy responsible for the insurance fraud ring, didn't you?"

"That's him," Casey said, pointing at the mugshot.

"Charming," she drawled sarcastically, studying the scar from his eye down to his jaw, the curdled look on his face, the eyes full of hate.

"Not the first time he's pulled shit like this. We'll get him. But we don't think he's working alone. We've spent a week with the guy trying to get him to take a plea bargain for info on who else is out here. But he hasn't budged yet and I don't think he will. He'll go to the can first and hedge his bets there."

Sarah nodded. "Makes sense if he's working for someone who's higher up on the totem pole."

"Mmmmhmm. That's what we're thinking. It's a whole operation and he's just taking orders."

"From someone he's afraid of."

"Yep. I've got a few officers on it, including Rizzo. But I think I'm gonna want you to work a little closer with Carina on this, and stay out of the crosshairs." He cleared his throat. "Let's just say there are places you can get that Detectives Rizzo and Etheridge can't."

She pursed her lips. "I didn't hear that."

"Good girl." He waved his phone. "I got Miller to agree to pull you in more on the case. Your email's secure?"

"As secure as it could be, yes."

"She'll send you what she thinks is pertinent. We'd like to keep this out of the press and away from prying eyes, but I know I don't have to tell you that."

"No, you don't."

They spoke a little while longer and she finally emerged to find her son sitting on Zondra's lap, two more of her fellow officers knelt down and talking to him.

"What's your favorite color, Max?"

"Yellow."

"It was green yesterday," Sarah chimed in, chuckling as she stopped and ran her hand over his head.

"It yellow today, Mommy. I got a yellow pencil." He held it up towards her and she took it from him.

"I love it."

"I got it from my f'end Zonna." She was pretty sure Max Walker was the only person on the planet who could get away with calling the detective "Zonna", but in his defense, all those consonants smashed together were hard for him still.

"That was very nice of her. You ready to go home now?" Sarah handed the pencil back to Zondra.

"That's mine," he whined, an extremely sad look on his face, his blue eyes welling up. Oh boy. She'd kept him away from his usual nap time too long now and it was starting to show.

"It's Zondra's pencil, Max."

"He can ha—Oh. Ahem. Right."

Zondra meant well and she smiled at the other woman to let her know she wasn't the one being chastised. Sarah leaned down and picked Max up. "You can't just have people's things. She was sharing. But sharing goes both ways, right? She shared it with you, and then you shared it back. Which was a very nice thing to do, buddy. I'm proud of you." She kissed his head, and even though he was still a little fussy, doing his little hard breaths—his fussy huffs, as her mom called them—he nodded and hugged his horse to his chest, apparently deciding to let her have this one.

He was too smart for his own good.

"Can you say goodbye to everyone?"

"See oo sooooon," he said, waving, and when they waved back, he buried his face in her neck shyly, beaming again, his eyes still a little teary.

It wasn't until they got back into the car and she was strapping him into his carseat that he began to cry. And no matter what she said, even though she gave him his cup of Cheerios, he sobbed half of the way back home, finally quieting down and falling asleep during the drive.

She would have to find a way to sneak him out of his carseat and into their apartment building, carrying him all the way upstairs and carefully depositing him in his bed for his nap.

And then she would check her email. More work meant more money. And she had bills she needed to pay. Most importantly, she had a son she needed to feed.

A/N: Okay, what's the verdict? Leave me a review. Thanks, folks.

-SC