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Just A Game	By : MoreCharahPlease Category: 1 through F > Chuck Views: 68647 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK or its characters. I am not making any money from this or any of my CHUCK stories.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Notes: I know this was a much longer wait. Sorry about that, everyone, but life always manages to ... happen. Thank you for sticking around!
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. I don't make money from this story.

  I was only aware of a sharp pain between my eyes when I finally opened them the next morning. “Ugghh come on,” I groaned, shutting them again and covering my face with my hands sloppily.
   Staying that way for a few minutes until my head stopped throbbing, I finally uncovered my face and blinked my eyes open again. That was a little bit better. Until I realized there was a stripe of daylight going across this room that was not my room.
   In fact, it was Chuck Bartowski’s room. I had definitely slept over with my fuck buddy last night. And that wasn’t all that happened, I thought to myself as I rubbed my thighs together and felt some discomfort in my lower half, particularly my back entrance. A back entrance that had never literally been an entrance before. Until Chuck had…
   I felt something move next to me and I didn’t have to look to know it was him. I inherently knew I wasn’t the only one awake.
   “Did we have anal sex last night?” I asked in a low voice.
   When I did look at him, I noticed he also looked to be in some pain, and he was even a little contrite. “Yeah. We did. If I hadn’t been so drunk, I probably wouldn’t have let it happen.”
   Even though I wasn’t too pleased with the fact that I’d slept over again, something I figured was probably a no-no when it came to fuck-buddying, I felt myself choke back a laugh. Mostly because it would hurt if I did laugh. “Why the fuck not? It was amazing.”
   “So…you remember it?”
   “Mmm yes.” I did. That was one plus to the night. In spite of being super drunk, I hadn’t blacked out. I remembered everything we’d done. And, in the mid-morning light, I was willing to admit I’d do all of it over again. Maybe I would’ve had a little less to drink and waited to sober up rather than continuing to knock the bottle back. Then I could’ve driven myself home instead of passing out in a drunken sex stupor.
   As it was now, I wouldn’t even be able to drive for a few hours. “I might be a little drunk still, though.”
   “Yeah, um…Ditto.”
   Shit. As fun as last night had been, I wondered if it wasn’t somewhat of a mistake. It was too late to dwell on that now. The sex had been fantastic. But I was not feeling great at the moment.
   We just laid there for a few minutes, not speaking, not moving even…until I finally felt him shift a little. I turned to glance at him, glad the room wasn’t spinning or anything ridiculous like that. After the whole Bryce debacle, I’d had too many mornings like that, pining away in my bedroom back in D.C., crying and drinking and waking up feeling like Death was at the foot of my bed. Couched over a toilet when it was really bad.
   Melodramatic idiot.
   This was not nearly as bad as that. And this hangover didn’t have anguish and heartbreak tangled up in it. Just a pinch of discomfort from knowing that I hadn’t meant to sleep over. Granted, I’d known what I was doing all night, pouring whiskey down my throat. If I thought I’d ever reach a point where it was safe to drive home, I was a fool. So maybe I’d done it on purpose?
   I didn’t know. Thinking that hard made my head hurt.
   Chuck was sitting up now, his shoulders hunched forward. He was still naked, and as I squirmed in the bedsheets, I realized I was, too. I watched as he leaned down and lifted the bottle of whiskey for me to see, squinting over his shoulder in the harsh light of the morning. “Hair of the dog?” he asked in a posh English accent.
   I made a dramatized gagging sound and he chuckled, wincing when that obviously hurt his head, and setting the bottle on the nightstand. “I’d have to agree with you there. Although I do think we could both do with some water and aspirin.”
   He stood up slowly and I moved to push myself up as well. “Lemme help—”
   “No, no.” Chuck held out his hand. “Lie back. Relax. Take a load off. Unless you have somewhere to be. I’ll get the water and aspirin.”
   I didn’t have anywhere to be, but God I really should get out of here. And yet, I couldn’t. It was hard to budge. And driving home, outside, in the bright sunlight when I didn’t even have my sunglasses with me? That would be the worst fucking thing ever.
   So I complied, ignoring the voice in the back of my head that told me I really could leave if I wanted to that badly. And that the fact that I was coming up with excuses not to leave meant I didn’t want to leave and…God I was still drunk.
   Chuck came in a little while later, wearing boxers and holding two glasses of water, a sheepish look on his face. “Seems I actually uh…I don’t have aspirin or anything like that.” I bit back a groan. If I’d brought the purse I usually took with me to work, I would be able to provide both of us with aspirin, but I’d been careless.
   “But! It’s okay. Because there’s a drug store two blocks away and I’m gonna go get some now.”
   I actually did sit up this time, taking the glass he gave me and holding it on my lap as I propped myself against the headboard. I didn’t care that my breasts and torso were on full display. Or maybe I just didn’t notice. Either way, I was mostly concerned about this hungover man walking two blocks in the bright sunlight to buy us aspirin.
   “Chuck, that’s way too much trouble. It’s okay. We can make do without. Carina has this hangover food cure thing she taught me when we were kids.”
   “When you were kids?” He raised his eyebrow at that, amusement in his features.
   Crap.
   Crap shit fuck damn.
   Idiot.
   “Not—No, we didn’t drink…” I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose tiredly. “It’s not really something I should say since it’s kinda personal for her…”
   “Oh. Oh, no. I get it. Totally.” He waved his hand and the air between us was…awkward. Or maybe I was making it awkward and it didn’t have to be.
   “Don’t, uh, don’t go to the store, though. As long as you have eggs, bread, potatoes, stuff like that, we can make do.” I smiled a little haltingly.
   “You sure? It’ll take fifteen minutes, tops.”
   “Yeeah, we’re okay. And anyways, you’d have to put on clothes to go to the store and I’m not sure how I feel about that…”
   He gave me a closed-mouth, wide smile and shook his head, rolling his eyes.
   He looked better than I felt now that he was standing up and I thought maybe that was why, so I gently swung my legs out of the sheets and eased myself to stand beside the bed. “Oh God, this is so shitty.”
   Chuck let out a huff of amusement. “Not from where I’m standing.”
   I glared.
   “Hey! You got to make a quip about me not wearing clothes. Don’t I get to respond in kind?”
   I paused. “Good point.”
   “Thank you.” He bobbed his head solemnly, then brightened up a little. “You know, before we do this Carina-Cure of yours, do you think maybe I could take a shower? I feel like I have whiskey on me. Like I didn’t just drink it, I put it…on my skin. Or something.” He made a grossed out face and gestured to his chest.
   That was when the memory from last night came to me. He’d been buried deep in my anus and my orgasm had dripped cum on Chuck’s abdomen. There was every reason to believe it was still there. I blushed wildly and tucked my hair behind my ear, a little ashamed at how that memory kind of turned me on.
   “Sure, that’s a good idea. A shower.”
   “Wanna use it first…?”
   “No, no. That’s okay. I’m going to see what’s in the fridge.”
   He nodded and backed towards the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a jiffy. Uh…make yourself at home, of course.”
   “Thanks.”
   “Okay.” He scratched his head and then smiled one last time before walking into the bathroom. He didn’t shut it all the way, instead leaving it open a crack, and it wasn’t exactly surprising. With how hot and heavy the sex had been over the last few months, it would’ve been ridiculous if he’d put a locked door between us while he showered.
   I heard the shower start and I let out a long breath, annoyed with myself for looking at the door with a bit of longing. A shower sounded amazing, but the thought of Chuck in the shower sounded even better.
   But showering was something I’d always saved for myself. It was my time. During cases, I used to refuse to let Bryce in with me. And even when I wasn’t on an important case, it made me a little uncomfortable to have him crawl in there with me looking for intimacy. Or not intimacy—usually he’d just wanted to bang before he went off to the station.
   Maybe showering together saved time, but it left me without my…me-time.
   I searched for a little while until I found my clothes, resisting the urge to just pull on the T-shirt I spotted draped over the back of his desk chair. It looked warm and comfortable and easy, but I went with the less intimate route, even if it meant more work.
   As I went through his kitchen a few minutes later, gathering everything I needed for the hangover cure I used to whip up for my dad when I was a kid, I wondered if there wasn’t something to the fact that I kept having to try really hard to keep from doing things that were “too intimate”. Was I simply being too careful? Was all of this ridiculous? Was I ridiculous?
   It would just be way too easy to fold myself into his life completely and let him into mine, to get careless and get super attached and then when things didn’t work out…I didn’t want that hurt right now. I had a career to focus on. A city to save…
   Although that was a megalomaniacal thing for me to think, it was true. I took my job seriously.
   Having a boyfriend might be nice after another year or two, or maybe even longer, when I’d had a chance to sort out other things in my life. But having someone I could have sex with minus the emotional stuff that could potentially get messy and distracting was exactly what I needed.
   And so what if I slept over last night? I was too drunk to get home and Chuck was trustworthy. He was safe.
   I discovered that he took really quick showers, too. I’d heard the shower turn off as I started scrambling four eggs in a bowl, but I hadn’t heard him approach from behind. I nearly dropped the bowl and whisk when he sidled up to the counter next to me.
   “Sorry,” he said with a wince, leaning over the bowl to look inside. “What else is going down besides eggs?” His word choice made me smirk and I felt like a child. “Can I do something?”
   Still trying to recover from the scare, I sent him one last reprimanding look, only part teasing, and turned to face the stove where I already had green onions, peppers, and chopped breakfast ham heating up.
   “If you have bread, you can make toast.”
   “Bagels good?”
   I nodded and watched him move to the cupboard in the corner, pulling out a bag of bagels. Everything bagels. Huh. I hadn’t pegged him for an everything bagel kind of guy. Maybe more of a jalapeño cheese bagel guy. Or maybe sesame seed. Egg, even. Something a little more plain.
   Not that he was boring, but I supposed I liked to think about people in terms of the things they preferred. And I’d pegged him as a man who liked his food simple.
   Realizing I had been standing in a daze thinking about what kind of bagels Chuck liked while beating the shit out of the eggs, I shook my head and walked over to the pan, pouring the egg over the onions, peppers, and ham.
   We spent the next five minutes in silence, him prepping the bagels and me watching the eggs.
   And by the time we finished everything, ready to plate our breakfast, I was feeling a little better. As if he read my mind, Chuck held out the two plates for me to split the eggs onto and cleared his throat. “How, uh—How you feeling?”
   “Better now that I’m up and about,” I said, smiling a little at him before scooping even amounts of the scramble onto each plate. “And I’ll be even better than that when I have food in me. Trust me. This stuff works every time.”
   “It smells like god food.”
   I chuckled and shook my head, following him to the table.
   As we ate, the situation was so incredibly comfortable that I didn’t even notice just how comfortable it was. Me and him sitting there at his table, munching on breakfast, me looking bedraggled and him all dewy with super curly damp hair from his shower.
   And as I took a bite out of my bagel, I decided that I really liked how much curlier his hair was when it got wet. He looked sort of…Italian. Especially with the natural tan he sported.
   “Sarah?”
   My eyes snapped up to his as I stopped chewing for a moment. “Hm?”
   “Everything okay? Food sitting well?”
   “So far s’fine. Why?” I asked around the chewed up bagel in my mouth.
   “You were staring at me funny.”
   I just barely kept from blushing, swallowing my food and looking sheepish. “Sorry, I was daydreaming.”
   “Ah. Yes. Feeling better?”
   I smiled. “Yeah. Still a little off, honestly. You?”
   “Oh the shower did wonders.”
   “I might take one, too, if that’s okay.”
   He was quick to nod. “Of course!”
   I insisted on helping him with dishes, smiling with my back to him as he told me about how his coworker Anna had punched his other coworker named Lester across the face, knocking him out cold before he even hit the floor. And how they’d merely dragged him behind the Nerd Herd counter so that he’d be out of the way until he came to.
   “Does that sort of thing happen often there?”
   “I don’t want to tell you how often. You might think less of me.”
   I made a face and turned to look at him, waiting for him to notice before I asked, “Why would I think less of you?”
   “I just sort of…work in a hell hole. And um…uh, well, it’s taking me too long to start trying to get myself out of there. I guess I sort of judge myself for it. Also my words are really working right now. Can you tell?”
   “Well, you shouldn’t.” His eyebrows raised at that. “Judge yourself, I mean.” He shrugged. “No, I mean it, Chuck. You’re doing something now. You’re taking a risk. It’s admirable.”
   He just smiled at me quietly, and then he tossed the dishcloth onto the counter and slowly moved up against me. I felt a stirring in my lower belly as he leaned in to kiss my neck, lifting his eyes to mine. I saw the heat in his face, the way he clenched his jaw, and I was immediately turned on.
   And then his hand was popping the button of my pants and he had them undone a moment later, before his fingers slid beneath the waistband of my panties and he had them buried between the lips of my sex.
   “Ooohhhh,” I gasped.
   Chuck leaned his forehead against mine and starting sliding his fingers up and down, back and forth. I arched myself against his hand and hummed, smiling at him, all sense leaving me as he finally buried two fingers inside of me.
   With my panties and jeans in the way, he wasn’t able to get deep enough or get the right angle to reach my g-spot, but that didn’t matter. Because he was pumping his fingers so fast and hard that I yelped in pleasure. I could feel every last inch of each of his fingers, and I found myself thrusting against his hand. My head rolled back as I moaned, letting my eyes shut, feeling Chuck’s lips against my ear.
   “Mmmm,” I hummed, and because I liked the idea of giving him a little something, too, I turned my head and looked straight into his eyes, our foreheads pressed together. “You make me so wet, Chuck.”
   His fingers slipped out of me as he grit his teeth, and then he was rubbing my clit roughly. I clenched my ass and arched against his touch, opening my mouth in a wanton, breathy whimper of his name. I could feel the pressure mounting.
   “I’m coming,” I gasped. “Oh God, I’m gonna come.”
   My orgasm crashed through me and I shuddered, clenching against his fingers, grabbing onto his arms as he leaned in to kiss my jaw. I cried out in pleasure, my breath coming out in quick huffs.
   He pulled his hand away and set it on my waist, turning his face to kiss my lips this time.
   “Thank you,” he grumbled in a low, amused voice.
   I shivered and grinned, shaking my head at him.
   “I’m going to say nice things to you more often if that’s how you’re gonna thank me,” I teased, earning a happy chuckle from him as he stepped back.
   I took my shower a few minutes later, taking a little longer than usual maybe. His shower smelled like him. Maybe it was just because of the soap he used, or the shampoo. Either way, I felt the need to stay there. Even the clean towel was so Chuck-smelling that I burrowed myself in it and just stood there for a few minutes, a smile on my face.
   By the time I dried off, there was a short knock on the door to the bathroom, which I’d left ajar. “Yeah?”
   “Hey, sorry. Just thought you might like to wear something else that’s clean. If not, that’s cool, but here.”
   His hand thrust into the bathroom, a t-shirt and boxers dangling from his fingers. “Like I said, you don’t have to. Just wanted to give you that option.”
   I smiled and walked up to the door, putting my back to it and reaching out to drape my hand over his. “Thanks.”
   “Sure, no problem.”
   And he waited for me to take the clothes before he ducked away again. Since these really were the only clean clothes I could wear, and it seemed counterproductive to wear my dirty clothes from last night after a shower, I slid his boxers on, rolling them a few times, and then pulled the t-shirt on over my head.
   It was so soft and warm. And I hugged myself, feeling it against my skin.
   I felt my nipples harden as it gently grazed over them, and I tried to flatten them a little before I headed out with my damp hair to see what Chuck was doing. I knew I couldn’t stay much longer, now that the shower had made me feel perfectly fine, along with breakfast.
   When I stepped out of the hallway, I found him sitting on the arm of the couch, channel surfing. He looked so comfortable, his hair all mussed, looking so at home and calm.
   He glanced over his shoulder as I approached and I saw something come across his features as his eyes dropped down to the clothes I wore. His clothes. He quickly pushed it back, buried it, before I could properly decipher it, and grinned cheekily. “They don’t fit you all that well,” he said, gesturing to the boxers.
   “Yeah, well…I made ‘em fit.” I shrugged.
   “Clever girl.”
   I let out a soft giggle. “You’re full of weird movie quotes, aren’t you?”
   Chuck blinked, then stood up, turning off the TV and tossing the remote onto the cushions as he rounded the couch to stop in front of me. “You knew that was a movie quote?”
   I snorted, shaking my head. “Who hasn’t seen Jurassic Park, Chuck? That’s not exactly a rare film.”
   “Yeah but…you knew…” He groaned deep in his chest and rolled his eyes back into his head. It was almost a little insane how easy it was to turn him on. Just quote a movie—any movie, it seemed like—and he was putty in your hands.
   Or maybe it was just me.
   “Really, Chuck? That does it for you?”
   “Are you complaining?”
   I pursed my lips, thinking about it. “I mean…not really.”
   When he moved in to grab me, I put a hand on his chest, biting my lip a little sheepishly as he stopped immediately. “Sorry, it’s just…I’m sober now. And the hangover isn’t quite as bad anymore. So I should get outta here soon.”
   He nibbled on the inside of his lip, then smirked a bit devilishly. “Guess we should make it sorta quick then, huh?”
   I beamed at that, my eyes widening as he gave the boxers I wore a hard yank so that they fell to my ankles, and then he was on his knees in front of me, his fingers spreading the lips of my vagina and his tongue immediately finding my slit. I gasped and dropped a hand to his head, having no choice but to stand there and take it as he fucked me with his tongue.
   And then he licked up to my clitoris and sucked it between his lips, flicking it with his tongue, then nipping at it teasingly with his teeth. I cried out and let my head fall back.
   Chuck burrowed his face in my sex and hummed, shaking his head back and forth, sucking, licking, doing everything he possibly could to make me moan. And then he lifted my right leg and propped it on his shoulder, putting his hands on my ass and pulling me even tighter against his face.
   I started thrusting against him, sighing his name, slipping my free hand underneath his t-shirt that I wore and rubbing my own nipples interchangeably.
   When I glanced down, I saw that he was unbuttoning his own pants and starting to shove them down.
   As soon as I saw that his cock was released from the confines of his pants and boxers, I lifted my leg from his shoulder and backed away from his face. He looked up at me wantonly and I approached again. And then I put my hands on his shoulders and lowered myself, taking care to stretch my legs out behind him and brace my heels against the floor, like I was sitting on a chair that wasn’t actually there.
   With Chuck still on his knees, I held onto him by the back of his neck and reached down with my free hand to take him in my fingers. I pushed his cock against my sex long ways, then started thrusting, sliding him up and down my slit like I’d done so many times before. I rubbed him where my vagina wasn’t grinding against him, feeling him get harder and harder, until finally I thought he was hard enough and I pulled back just enough to guide his tip to my entrance. I pushed myself against him until our groins rubbed together, burying his hot penis deep inside of me.
   He groaned and kissed my neck, and then he pulled back and we met gazes.
   I immediately started bucking against him, meaning to hold him to his promise of making this quick. I bounced onto his cock fast and hard as he held me by my hips, meeting my bounces with hard thrusts of his own.
   Our bodies smacked together as we fucked, and I was seriously revved up when I heard the low growl come from deep in him.
   I surged forward and wrapped my arms around his head, propping my elbows on his shoulders, and I kissed him hard, whimpering as we slammed together even rougher than before.
   My orgasm was approaching quickly, so I pulled my lips from his and let out a soft grunt. “Make me come, Chuck,” I whimpered, my voice catching each time our groins crashed together.
   He turned us around so that I was pressed against the back of the couch, and then he grabbed my hands and pinned them up above my head, holding onto them tightly in his grip as he fucked me against the couch.
   His thrusts were hard and deep.
   And when I came, he kept going, in spite of my harsh cries of pleasure that signaled my orgasm. I didn’t mind, still enjoying the sensations of him pounding into me.
   I came a second time soon thereafter, right before I felt him spill his seed inside of my pussy, making everything seem that much better, and as we stayed like that, panting, clinging, I wondered if there were other guys out there who could make a woman come twice during one quickie.
   Of course there had to be.
   But he was the first I’d met.
   By the time I gathered myself and snuck down to my car, shoes in hand, I realized that I’d forgotten my clothes at his place.
   And as much as I didn’t like that I’d forgotten them, I liked even less the idea of going all the way back up there to get them, so I got into my car wearing Chuck’s boxers and t-shirt and drove home, hoping that none of my coworkers patrolling saw me driving around wearing some guy’s clothes.
   As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about my coworkers seeing me, but I did find Carina standing at my apartment door with her hand up, ready to knock. I saw her just before she saw me, which gave me absolutely no time to retreat.
   And her eyes immediately slid down to look at what I was wearing.
   “Nice boxers, Walker.”
   I groaned and rolled my eyes, pushing her aside. “Move. I don’t wanna be out here in the hallway like this.”
   “Where are your clothes? Did they get caught in the garbage disposal while you and FB were having rough kitchen sex?”
   “Shhh!” And even though I shushed her, I was laughing, because that was a hilarious image. I let her in, even though I wanted to slam the door in her face. “What are you doing here?”
   “Where are your clothes?”
   “I forgot them.”
   “At FB’s?”
   “At Chuck’s. Yes.”
   “How do you forget clothes?”
   “Well, it isn’t like I left naked.”
   “So what happened?”
   I shook my head at her, a flat look on my face.
   “Oh come onnnnn. I tell you all of my stuff!”
   “I never ask to know all of your stuff,” I reminded her, tossing my keys in the bowl and dropping my purse on the chair before plopping onto my couch.
   “Sarah. What is the point of having a best friend if you don’t share really hot sex stories?”
   “Um…well…there’s stuff like supporting one another during tough times. Always having someone you can count on. Borrowing movies and books. Having someone to get Thai food with…”
   “Sharing hot sex stories,” she filled in as a I paused to think.
   I sent her another flat look. “Carina, my sex life is my sex life.”
   “Stingy.”
   “Oh my God, you’re such a glutton. You might have a problem.”
   “I never said I didn’t. What’d you get up to last night? And don’t try to convince me you didn’t stay there. I know you did. You look like the perfect picture of a walk of shame. Though I never much liked that term.”
   “Because you have no shame?”
   She pointed at me and smirked. “Touché, Sar. Touché. Just…please…gimme something. I haven’t been able to get with a fuck buddy in a week, okay? Just throw me one bone. Ha! No pun intended.”
   I sighed and covered my face with my hands. She’d worn me down. And honestly, Carina and I had been friends for such a long time now, that she was the only person I felt comfortable telling things like this to. Except for Chuck, obviously. Though usually I was giving him commands during the actual act…so maybe that didn’t count.
   “He had a bottle of really good whiskey so we drank that and screwed each other senseless.”
   “Whoaaaaaa drunken sex?”
   I smirked and looked over at her. “It was kinda great. Not gonna lie.”
   “Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t. If you get totally wasted, it’s less fun and more sloppy and…messy.” Carina shivered. “But when you’re just a little drunk…that buzz in your head. Mmm.”
   “That’s where I was.”
   “Well played, bestie. Well played. Was he drunk, too?”
   “He must’ve been because we went pretty far and he didn’t do anything to stop it.”
   “Far how?”
   I thought about how I’d eased his cock into my asshole, sliding down it ever so slowly, waiting for the discomfort to ebb before I started rocking on him, bouncing on him. And the way I’d come, getting my juices on his stomach. I bit my cheek. “Just…kinda wild. Rough.”
   “From what you’ve said about your FB, that seems pretty…kinky.”
   “Contrary to what you might think, I am capable of kinky, Carina. Thanks so much.”
   “Uh huh. Suure ya are.”
   I glared and she held up her hands. “I’m joking. Look, you showed up wearing the guy’s boxers and t-shirt. And you forgot your clothes at his place. Dude must’ve screwed you good to make you forget your damn clothes.”
   I pursed my lips. “We screwed each other good.”
   Carina whistled and shook her head. “Sarah Walker, I’m just so proud of you.”
   I laughed and pushed up from the couch, grabbing the hair tie off of my coffee table and pulling my hair up into a bun at the top of my head. “What, no advice?” I asked as I moved into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses, moving to the fridge to fill them both with the filtered water.
   Even though I was teasing, I realized I’d totally walked into it. Of course she had advice, and of course she would give it to me.
   “Well, that depends. Do you want the super kinky stuff? Or do you want the stuff that feels really good? You in control? Or him in control? I have a bag of tricks that is virtually endless,” she said, joining me in the kitchen and taking the glass I handed her.
   I rolled my eyes. “I’m perfectly fine on my own, Carina. Thanks.”
   “If I asked FB, would he say the same thing?” I threw a nearby napkin at her and she continued, undaunted. “Should I pull the ol’ suspect questioning thing and get the two of you in the room at different times to see if your stories correlate?”
   “Shut the fuck up, Carina.” I laughed and shook my head, drinking a few long gulps of water. Was dehydration a problem when people had really good sex? I thought maybe it might be. So I drank a little more.
   “Ever try Amazon?”
   I paused, my brow furrowed. “Mhmmmm, just bought a 2 buck book off of them the other day…”
   “Oh my God. Sarah. Not dot com, you dork. The sex position!”
   The truth was I’d never actually heard of it. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit that to Carina after all of the ribbing she’d been doing. However, my pause had already given me away it seemed because she smirked knowingly.
   “Don’t worry, Sar, I’m not gonna give you shit for not knowing what Amazon is. You should look it up, though. And try it. It’s invigorating. You know how when you’re riding a guy you feel all in command? That feeling of being in control when you’re on top of him, you know?” I twisted my lips to the side and nodded once, looking down.
   Carina didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then she sighed. “Sarah, stop looking like a little kid who’s being called out in front of the whole class. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just want to learn you some.”
   I chuckled at her awful phrasing. “I do not look like a kid being called out in front of the whole class,” I said in a flat voice. “You are being kind of a shithead, though.”
   She gaped then shut her mouth and shrugged. “I am. I’m sorry. But do you want to know? I’ll tell you.”
   I sighed. “Fiiiine. Keep going.”
   She stepped closer and set her glass down on the counter. “It’s that feeling times ten. Because you’re basically the male in the situation. He’s completely at your mercy. You just sorta…grab his legs like this…” She mimicked the move and thrust her hands forward. “And then you slide onto his dick. And you do…” She thrusted her hips forward a few times. “It feels amazing. I swear. So good.”
   I was laughing too hard by that time to actually pay attention to anything else she said. She’d just looked so ridiculous, humping empty air. She gave me a teasing shove and grinned, shaking her head.
   We chatted for another half hour, Carina commiserating with me about the bullshit I was dealing with at the precinct. The stupid red tape I was having to cut through to get this new case started even. Being a lawyer, Carina Miller knew better than anyone about having reams and reams of red tape stretched out in front of her when she had a tough case. Dealing with the asshole bureaucrats.
   But she finally revealed that she’d come to borrow my mandolin slicer to use for a dinner party she was throwing for some of her interns, “a sort of congrats on being good interns celebration” was how she’d described it.
   And as she stopped at the door, the mandolin box shoved under her arm, she gave me a smirk. “Lemme know how you like that Amazon move, Wonder Woman.”
   I snorted and shook my head, slamming the door behind her when she left for good measure. And I wondered if Chuck would toss me to the side for Carina if he knew she’d just made a Wonder Woman joke.

—————

   I found my phone in the pile of crap I’d thrown on the passenger seat of my car just as it went to voicemail, cursing quietly before swiping to see who it was.
   Ah, Chuck.
   But instead of an actual voicemail, a text from him popped up.
   Is this a bad time?
Depends on what you mean by “bad”…
I was pretty proud of myself for that one. I slid a little lower in my seat, glad there was nothing but other cars in the parking lot of the food mart where I’d just bought a few packs of Gatorades for the fellas at the precinct.
   That took me a second. Nice, Walker. Very nice. ;)
Thank you. :) So what’s up?
I’m on break. Sitting in my car. Bored OUT MY MIND. Thought I’d give you a call.
For what reason exactly? I raised my eyebrow at my phone and waited for his response, wondering what exactly he was getting at.
   Honestly?
Totally. Yes. Honestly.
If you weren’t busy, I was going to say dirty things in your ear. Is that wrong?
I let out a long breath and bit my lip, sliding even further down in my seat. If it is wrong I don’t wanna be right, I typed. And then I laughed at myself when I pressed send, knowing he’d eat up my corniness with a spoon.
   Hahahahaha you just made my entire week. Holy shit! I literally barked/laughed in my car.
You’re welcome. Haha.
There was a long pause in which I lowered my phone and watched as a few droplets of rain pattered against my windshield. And then I heard the soft ding of my phone and looked at it.
   Well it’s probably too late for us to get something going, but at least I got to text with you, lady.
I bit my lip, and responded with a smiley.
   Then I paused, and pursed my lips. Chuck? You remember that conversation we had about
I stopped typing and deleted the message, opting instead to just call him up on the phone. He answered immediately. “You know, Sarah, the NSA doesn’t just read texts. They listen to phone conversations, too. But you probably already know that, since you’re a gumshoe.”
   “Detective,” I corrected, unable to keep from laughing at his comment. He was pretty damn funny sometimes. “And I thought it’d be better to talk instead of just texting this.”
   “Oh. Right.” He sounded a little unsure, like maybe I had something bad to tell him.
   So I thought I’d cut with the suspense and just dive right in. “Remember when we had that conversation about maybe using this arrangement we’ve got going on to do some more…exploring? Sexually, I mean.”
   I could hear his breath hitch over the phone and it made my heart race. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
   “I was thinking about it last night, which…” I let out an amused huff. “…wasn’t great for my ability to get to sleep, honestly. So there’s that.” He chuckled. “But the other day, you were getting all hot and bothered over my badge, and asking about my handcuffs…And it made me think about role play. And I was wondering if that’d be something you might…wanna try sometime?”
   He was silent for an uncomfortably long time. So long, that I decided to try to put him at ease. “Obviously, we don’t have to. That’s why I wanted to call and, you know, talk in person instead of text. If that’s not something you’re—”
   “Oh, it is. It definitely is. Sorry. Sorry, I…I just kinda…swallowed my own tongue there. I’ve…God, I’ve fantasized…I shouldn’t admit that. I really shouldn’t. Sorry.”
   I laughed at him, then felt bad when he let out an embarrassed sound that was kind of pitiful. “Aww oh no,” I said quickly, stifling my laughter. “Don’t feel bad. It isn’t like I haven’t fantasized. That’s why I’m bringing it up. Are you game?”
   “Damn straight, I’m game. I was born game. That doesn’t…work as well…with the word game. Does it?”
   I laughed again, and this time he chuckled with me. “But seriously, I’m totally onboard,” he said. “Totally.”
   “Okay. Good. So…maybe we’ll talk about it more soon?”
   “Yes, please.” Then he paused with a sigh. “I should get back to work. Damn it.”
   “Yeah, me too.”
   “You use those handcuffs of yours today?” he teased.
   I was glad he couldn’t see the mischievous look in my face as I answered. “I haven’t yet but…I just might before the day is out.”
   He groaned theatrically and I laughed, hanging up.
   The rain came down steadily on my drive back to the precinct, and continued all the way into the night and for the next two days even. It was like I was living in Seattle or something, for shit’s sake.
   But I didn’t mind it so much. Granted, we all ended up coming back soaked from going out on the streets, especially the poor beat cops that were forced to be out there all the time. The parkas the departments gave them didn’t do much to protect them, and neither did the hats.
   By the time I got back to my apartment on the third night, the rain still hadn’t stopped, which was absolutely crazy for Los Angeles. They kept talking about El Niño on the news, interviewing people who exclaimed “This is craaazy!” into the microphone when accosted by the reporter on the street.
   I turned off the television, putting my feet on the coffee table and balancing my tea on my lap as I reached for my phone. I checked my email—same ol’ same ol’—then skimmed through my top news sites, looking for something interesting to read, when Chuck’s face suddenly appeared on my phone.
   Just when I was starting to get bored, too.
   “Hello?” I answered, snuggling a little further into the couch cushion.
   “Ahhh, yes. Detective Walker. I’d like to report a robbery.”
   “You would?” I asked, recognizing that he was playing a game with me. Figuring it was always a good idea to play along with one of Chuck’s games, I continued. “What was stolen?”
   “This God damn rain isn’t letting me have any fun. It has legitimately robbed me of fun and made me a dull boy.”
   I laughed so hard that I tipped over to face plant into the couch. “Oh my God, you’re such a huge nerd.”
   “I can do one better. I connected my old NES game system from the 80’s to my television and I am currently playing Duck Hunt.”
   “Are you eating cheese puffs?”
   He paused. “How’d you know?!?!”
   I laughed again, feeling it all the way in my belly. “Yeah, I don’t know about you, Bartowski.”
   “Does that meeean I’m not allowed to come over?”
   My eyebrows popped. “Oh ho ho, who said you were coming over in the first place?”
   “Well, that was my reason for calling. A man can only shoot so many cartoon ducks before he needs to find something else to do.”
   “Ever hear of a book?”
   “What?!” He cracked up as I laughed, grinning like an idiot for no one to see. “That’s harsh, Sarah. Way harsh. Fine. I’ll read a comic book.”
   “Neeeeerd.”
   “I never said I wasn’t! We can’t all be the popular one, arright?” He had no idea how wrong he was about me being the popular one. It was exactly the opposite. I was a loner who played violin (and poorly), whose father…well…He didn’t exactly make it out to all of the parent-teacher conferences. And it didn’t go unnoticed by my peers. And because middle school and high school are both great places for understanding and kindness—sarcasm—I got a lot of crap for it.
   “Sarah?”
   I shook my head. “Sorry, I drifted. The rain is making me so bored that I’m losing my concentration.”
   “Or am I the boring one?” he teased.
   “You know you’re not.” I was surprised by how sincere I sounded.
   “So…can I come over? Is that cool? In all seriousness…it has been days and days and days. Annnnd I just so happen to have a few days off.”
   “Huh. Isn’t that funny? My captain just told me today I’ve been working too hard. And he’s forcing me to take a bit of a break since I’m between cases, as it were.”
   “Late night sex night! Yes! Let’s do it!”
   It was weird how boyish he sounded, even as he suggested what sounded an awful lot like a marathon sex session. I nibbled on my lip and smiled. I had nothing else planned, after all. And if we just kept it at sex…the pauses for nourishment not withstanding…
   “Are we making this a multiple day thing, then? Is that what’s happening?” I asked.
   “I…don’t know. I’ve never done that before.”
   “Me neither.”
   “Do you…do you want to? I mean, I’m totally—if you want to—I mean…”
   I stopped him there. “Hold on. Chuck, don’t freak out. We’re supposed to be totally open about what we do and don’t want. Remember? No worrying about judgment.” I heard him let out a relieved breath. “I’ll go first. I think it sounds like fun. I mean, if it turns out to be not as fun, we stop. Right?”
   I thought I could hear him grinning as he answered. “Right. Gimme a half hour. I’ll be there at 8. How’s that sound?”
   “Perfect.”
   When we hung up, I leapt up from the couch and rushed into my bedroom, opening my closet door. Chuck had no idea what was coming.
   But I had a plan.

Notes: Thank you so much! Let me know what you think. More coming! -MCP
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Just A Game