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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
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Notes: Thanks for all of your reviews. Getting the plot going full steam ahead now. Thanks to everyone who's been patiently waiting for this, and thanks to those of you who had nothing but nice things to say about the sex scenes. Hope those of you who still don't like what you're reading get there are some point. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK, nor am I making money from this story.

  A sound somewhere in my apartment caused me to wake up, already alert, listening hard for something else, anything else. It sounded like a faucet somewhere was leaking. That happened with my bathroom down the hall sometimes. I probably just hadn’t turned it off all the way. So I gingerly laid back against the pillows again and shut my eyes.

   Though somehow it began to sound even louder the longer I stayed in bed trying to ignore it. Like each drop was crashing onto my forehead or something. I had to stop it before I went crazy.

   So I finally pushed myself to sit up, careful of my shoulder and ribs, which were both throbbing quite a bit now that I wasn’t asleep. The meds had probably worn off.

   I ignored the pain, crawling out from under the sheets to stand up. My ankle was fine enough to hobble on, at least, so I did that instead of grabbing the crutch nearby.

   Wincing, I limped out of my bedroom and moved down the hallway towards the bathroom.   Strange, the light was on, the door shut. I definitely hadn’t done that before I fell asleep.

   The dripping noise was louder and faster now. Like someone had turned it on just a tad more. Who the hell was in there?

   I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it, slowly, aware that there might be an intruder in my home, someone I hadn’t let in.

   It wouldn’t be the first time.

   I heard the click, and I pushed the door open, slow and careful. I stepped into the bathroom and looked down.

   Blond hair, a pool of blood, wide open blue eyes staring up at me. The knife. Speechless, terror-stricken, I spun away from the sight to face the sink—and found it full of bloody water. Blood on the mirror. Blood on the cabinets.

   Like she’d grabbed at them, like she’d had moments of regret, like she’d tried to get help, save herself…

   I screamed. I screamed bloody murder.

   And it wasn’t until I heard someone shout my name, felt arms close around my body, that I found myself in bed again, the sheets tangled around my legs. Tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I just barely was able to swallow a sob.

   “It’s okay,” he breathed into my hair. “Just a nightmare. I’m here.”

   I shut my eyes tightly, a few more tears squeaking out, and I let myself have those last few before I stopped the crying altogether, pulling back and wiping at my cheeks, embarrassed. “Sorry,” I whispered.

   His hands still cupped my elbows gently, so strong and steady, still pressed close to me. I finally took a long look at him, even though I didn’t much like the idea of him seeing me this vulnerable. He looked so bedraggled and comfortable, tired but concerned. He looked safe. Almost like my very own sanctuary.

   “Hey, don’t apologize. You’ve been through some straight-up shit, gumshoe. It’s no wonder you’re having nightmares.”

   He didn’t even know the half of it. I gave him a weak, closed-mouth smile, just a twitch of my lips, and dabbed at my cheeks with my fingers again. I hadn’t had that nightmare in over a year, since before I moved to Los Angeles.

   And now that I’d made a commitment, even just a small ‘no labels no pressure no rules’ commitment, it came back in full force. I could not let it get to me, though. I didn’t believe in all of that dream mumbo-jumbo. I wasn’t going to let that fucking nightmare change the decision I’d made with Chuck last night.

   I was opening myself up to him, trusting him. As much as I was able to for now. We both deserved a trial.

   The way he carefully rubbed my good shoulder and avoided the other one only cemented my resolve. If I was going to trust again, if I was going to get better, be happy, I was starting with Chuck Bartowski. Because if I couldn’t make it with this man, not just a man like him, but this man, I really was broken beyond compare.

   I let him hold me, letting him think the nightmare was about Fulcrum because I wasn’t ready to tell him about her yet. And I let him see me vulnerable, something I had never done with anyone but Carina. Not since I was a kid at least.

   I let myself melt against him as he fell back against the pillows and held me close. In spite of my terrifying nightmare, I smiled a little as I felt his lips against my forehead, his fingers gently stroking the back of my neck.

————————

   “We’ve gone through the files over and over again. None of this connects to Fulcrum,” I said as the captain huffed and turned his chair away from his computer screen.

   It had been five days since the attack, and in that time I’d gotten rid of the crutch, preferring the slight limp over wedging that damn thing under my arm. Everything had pretty much healed, save for a bit of soreness if I moved in the wrong way too fast.

   Since then, we had confirmed my attacker was Fulcrum, and Agent Redding released to us what the FBI had on him—which was almost nothing, so that was probably why he was keeping this under the hat like we wanted him to. He probably thought we’d get nowhere just like the FBI had.

   Just like Chuck had said, the piece of shit hacker simply couldn’t help but leave his mark on everything. Like he was proud of it.

   If I ever came face to face with him, I’d kick the shit out of him again.

   Fucker.

   “Walker…Sarah.” Graham’s voice was gentle as he gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. “Sit down. Listen.”

   I followed his order, sitting in the chair, alert.

   “I know you’re angry. And it isn’t easy sitting here not knowing why Fulcrum was particularly focusing on you. The not knowing is the worst part, the part that really makes me want to tear my hair out. If I had hair.” I huffed a little in amusement because I knew he’d made the quip for me on purpose to ease the tension in me a little. It didn’t work, but I didn’t mind making him think it had.

   “This is seriously the shittiest thing, Captain.” He shrugged in acknowledgement. “And I don’t know what to do next. I’ve gone through my D.C. reports, my reports from LAPD, I’ve looked into the people who’ve threatened me in the past, the little that the FBI released to us about him. None of it leads anywhere. I’m wandering though a fog with this case.”

   “Well the good news is he hasn’t come back yet.”

   “And when he does?”

   “If he does, we’ll be ready.”

   “You mean I’ll be ready. I’m still not allowing you to put a detail outside my apartment.”

   He huffed in frustration. “Fine. I’ll wear you down eventually.”

   “Historically speaking, that isn’t likely.” I received a glare for that one and I shrugged. At least now I could shrug without the pain.

   “Look, just go home and we’ll regroup tomorrow morning,” Graham finally said, rubbing his eyes and sighing tiredly.

   “That’s what you’ve said every day since it happened, Sir. With all due respect. And nothing’s changed since then. How many times do we have to regroup before we get some kind of breakthrough?”

   I frowned and glanced at the LA skyline outside of his window.

   “We’ll get a breakthrough. We just have to keep working on it. At least we’ve got Agent Redding helping us under the radar. Can’t imagine how fucked up this case would get with media crawling all over it.” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

   “What about—?” I had an idea percolating. I sat up a little straighter. But then I stopped myself.

   Chuck had proven himself equal to the task. He’d out-hacked an apparently very skilled hacker in hours, and there’d been a naturalness to it that was as hot as it was unnerving. He might be able to help us further.

   But then on the other hand, if he did have a past that involved illegal hacking, I didn’t want him in Graham’s crosshairs. My captain was smart, and he’d given me a certain look when Chuck fumbled last week. I wasn’t sure he’d be able to look past the hints that Chuck had been (or maybe still was) involved in the hacking community. We were officers of the law, first and foremost. But I couldn’t let Chuck get in trouble because of me. I had to approach him first. I needed to know the truth about his potential hobby before I gave his name to Graham again. I needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

   I didn’t even realize at that moment that I was putting his well-being before my job, when I never would have done that with anyone else. (Except Carina, of course.) I took what I did very seriously. Being a detective with the LAPD meant saving lives, keeping the community safe. But right now, I couldn’t be the one to get Chuck busted. Especially so unnecessarily. Whatever he’d been involved in or was currently involved in couldn’t be that bad, right? He was an intrinsically good guy. I knew this for a fact.

   “What is it, Walker? Got an idea?”

   I sat back against the chair and huffed. “No. It was a flash in the pan thought. Too many loopholes, so forget it.” My phone buzzed in my pocket just then. “I’m going to take your advice and get home. Maybe check in with Carina, see if she’s come across anything.”

   I’d roped Carina into the investigation as well, even though it had been less roping and more that I’d allowed her to help to keep her from freaking the fuck out. She’d gone full basket case when she heard about what happened, and promised to put her heel through Fulcrum’s jugular. It was a nice thought.

   “Good idea. Let me know if she’s got something concrete, huh?”

   “Will do.”

   I stood up and walked to the door.

   My phone was still ringing as I stepped out into the bull pen, just narrowly missing Officer Frye as she swept past with a stack of books. I walked back to my desk, already answering the phone and putting it up to my ear.

   “Hello?”

   “Detective Walker?”

   I halted as I grabbed my maroon blazer off the back of my chair. “This is she. Who’s speaking?”

   “You don’t remember me at all?”

   “Who is this?” I was suddenly alert, ready to march right back into Graham’s office to let him know I had Fulcrum on the phone.

   “Warner. Agent Warner? We met last week at the—You don’t remember me, do you?”

   I let out a long sigh of relief and continued pulling on my blazer, switching the phone between hands. “I, uh, I do remember you, Agent Warner.” I left it at that, unconsciously deciding I didn’t need to really explain why I’d probably sounded crazy on the phone. But his little attempt at flirtation was poorly timed, and honestly, unappreciated. “Can I help you with anything, Sir?”

   There was a pause. “Actually, I was just calling to make sure you were alright.”

   I stopped again, frowning. “What do you mean?”

   “You were attacked last week, weren’t you? Piece of shit put bugs in your computer. I just got wind of it. And since you gave me your phone number, I thought I’d make sure you were okay.”

   “That’s kind of you, Sir, but—”

   “Tommy.”

   “Pardon?”

   “You can call me Tommy.”

   I could hear that tone in his voice, and I regretted giving him my phone number. Again. I’d been under the influence—the alcohol—no, that was a lie. I hadn’t been under the influence of anything when I gave him my number. I hadn’t even been that interested. I’d just done it because I was being an idiot. It wasn’t fair to anyone involved, but I’d done it anyway. He’d pressured me a little and I’d caved, when I could have just as easily refused and walked away.

   And now I had to deal with it, like I had to deal with all of my mistakes.

   “Um, thank you for calling. I, uh, I don’t think you—”

   “Actually,” he said, cutting me off. “I called for another reason, too. I wanted to make sure you were alright, but I also wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help. With the case. Maybe we could discuss everything over champagne? I know a really nice steakhouse in your area…” His voice trailed off and I found myself shaking my head, wincing a little.

   “Uhh…Listen, Agent—erm, Tommy. I don’t think so.”

   “Why? It’s just dinner, champagne, and business talk.”

   I highly doubted that was all he wanted. I couldn’t even blame him. I’d given him my number, after all. Stupid stupid stupid.

   “I’m not…free.”

   I could hear his amusement in his voice as he responded. “So we’ll find a time that you are free.” Before I could correct him, he rushed on. “I know I’m an FBI agent…which might be intimidating…” Okay, now I actually was annoyed. Like I gave a crap about what it said on his badge. Intimidating. Ha! “But I throw a good party. Trust me, Sarah. You won’t regret it.”

   Detective Walker, I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to be rude. The guy didn’t deserve that. His heart was most likely in the right place.

   I just didn’t want him.

   “You’re gonna need a good FBI agent in your corner, right?” he asked when I didn’t say anything.

   “Again, thank you. But we’re going through the appropriate channels to get our guy, and we’ve got it under control here. Really, I appreciate the gesture. I just—”

   “Not interested. Should I toss out the phone number then? Because you did give it to me. After all.”

   I didn’t even have to think about it. “I did. I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t have.”

   “But I should keep the number. For later. Is that what you’re saying?”

   “I don’t think so, Agent Warner. Tommy. I’m not on the market right now.” I didn’t tell him why. It was a number of things; one of them had amber-colored eyes and a quick smile.

   “Already had someone sweep in and steal you from me. Damn. Knew I waited too long. Well. That’s that, then. I hope you don’t mind if I keep the number. And if I keep tabs on your case.”

   Chewing on my cheek, a bit distracted, I shrugged, then realized he couldn’t see it. “I’d prefer you didn’t. But I have no way of knowing what you do, either way. Just a second,” I rushed out, alarm rising in my chest. “Before we hang up. How, exactly, did you say you found out about what happened? The break-in, I mean. At my apartment. And the bug in my laptop.”

   “I’m afraid that’s confidential,” he flirted.

   “Tell me,” I demanded, especially not in the mood all of a sudden. How the hell had Warner known about that?

   “Word gets around up here pretty easy sometimes, Sarah. Why?”

   “No reason. Just curious. Thanks for the phone call, Agent Warner. Tommy.” I hung up without waiting for a response, which was maybe a bit rude of me, but I was in a hurry. I moved towards Graham’s office, but then I stopped and had second thoughts. I wasn’t going to tell him until I figured out the answer.

   But first, I needed to get out of here.

—————

   I hadn’t meant to turn the other way. It was a spur of the moment decision. Maybe because I needed to talk, or maybe it was the whole conversation with the FBI agent who’d been attempting to ask me out on a date. I didn’t know but I wasn’t going home just yet.

   I needed a bouncing board. And Carina was currently in a courtroom trying to put away some white collar criminal.

   When I got in my car at the precinct, I’d planned to head home and take a shower, let everything soak in a bit, and then sit down and think about the phone call with Agent Warner. Word gets around up here pretty easy sometimes.

That made sense.

   Only thing was that Graham only spoke to one agent about this. Agent Sam Redding, head of the FBI’s Los Angeles division. The circle of people who knew about what had happened to me couldn’t have extended past him, Casey, Ruiz, and O’Bannon. Considering all of the covering up and lying I’d done with my neighbors, who simply thought some guy had broken in to take my things and I scared him off, I figured it was safe. I trusted the guys. I trusted Graham. And I knew Graham trusted Agent Redding. Redding had always been a good agent, as far as I knew from the cases I’d worked on with him. And he was taking this very seriously, according to Graham.

   Nobody wanted the media involved. And Redding understood what was at stake. So I trusted he’d keep this close to his chest, since he owed Graham a favor or two, especially.

   So how had news of my break-in gotten out?

   Did someone at the precinct talk?

   Maybe Redding left something lying around and someone saw it? Even top agents got careless here and there. When they were tired or rundown, especially.

   Why was everyone in the FBI building in downtown Los Angeles suddenly in the loop about the break-in, about the breach of my privacy? I could only assume they were if Warner knew about it.

   Shit. This could potentially blow up in our faces.

   I pulled into a parking space on the street and hurried inside, deciding on the elevator instead of the stairs. After all, my ankle wasn’t perfectly healed just yet. And I didn’t feel like fucking it up again because of a couple of flights of stairs.

   It took another thirty seconds before I was standing at the door. And as I knocked, I realized I hadn’t called or texted, and maybe I should have. At this hour, he could be at work—

   But he wasn’t at work.

   Because he opened the door a few seconds later, wearing his usual get-up of nice pants, a dress shirt, and a tie. His feet were bare and his tie loose. He must have just gotten off of work.

   His brow furrowed a little in shock, but then a smile spread over his face. “Oh. Hi.”

   “Hi. Can I come in?”

   “F’course,” he said, stepping back and opening the door wider for me.

   “Thanks.” I walked in and turned to face him, wringing my hands. It was a show of weakness that I didn’t usually let other people see, but he wasn’t exactly other people. And I’d already let him in more than I had pretty much everyone else—except maybe Carina, depending on if she was pissing me off or not. So I let him see my antsy behavior, my nerves.

   “You okay?”

   “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, I’m sorry I just barged in on you like this, Chuck. I didn’t even think about the fact that I didn’t text or call until I was literally knocking on the door.”

   His eyes widened a little and he shook his head, shutting the door and flipping the lock. “No! Hey, it’s fine. No worries. I mean, worst case scenario, you show up and I’m at work.” He shrugged, rubbing his hands down his shirt a little nervously to straighten it. It was sort of adorable, as though his post-work look made him a little self-conscious in front of me. He needn’t have worried. Chuck Bartowski in a button-up and tie was always a good look, as far as I was concerned.

   “I’m not interrupting anything?” I looked around a bit.

   “Nah, no. I was just tinkering with some stuff.”

   I glanced in the direction he was pointing, noticing that he had some sort of circuit board sitting on his table. “What is that?”

   “An old circuit board. Just kind of tinkering with it. I took it out of the Buy More warehouse. Don’t arrest me.” He held up a hand and grinned slowly.

   I chuckled. “Stealing from your own store, huh, Bartowski? That’s pretty bad.”

   He held out his wrists towards me. “Clap ‘em in irons, gumshoe.”

   I’d missed this.

   “I can’t just yet. We have some business to take care of first.”

   “Maybe later, though?”

   I smiled, even though I maybe felt a little awkward. And I knew it wasn’t for any reason, really. Except that it had been a few days since we had that very long, and very open discussion. I’d been honest with him, as vulnerable as I’d felt that night after the break-in the night before, being attacked, having my privacy violated. And he’d been there, holding ice on my ankle, listening, being so honest and sincere. It was so easy for him to tell me how he felt, and that softened me, made the walls I had around me crumble a little. He trusted me even though I’d never given him any reason to.

   And then there was the way he’d held me after my nightmare, staying awake for a few hours to talk about television shows, comic books, anything we could talk about. It was as if he knew I didn’t want to go back to sleep just yet because I was afraid of what I’d see in my nightmares.

   Now that there’d been a few days of separation…

   It wasn’t that I regretted opening myself to more than just sex with Chuck. It was still just a little uncomfortable to think about. I’d told him my fears, though he was kind enough not to force me to tell him why I was so afraid. I knew that if he had pushed, even a little, even if he’d just asked, I would have told him. I was scared and weak sitting on that window seat, reaching for a way to feel safe again, wanting to connect.

   And damn it, I still did want to connect. I just didn’t really know how to make that move. And it was making me feel…awkward.

   Maybe it was the same for him. Maybe he’d said a lot more that night than he’d planned to say. Sure, Chuck Bartowski was an open book. But just like it was with anybody else, there were things he wanted to keep to himself, surely.

   And I had been thinking a lot during the last few days I’d spent apart from him. He was so much more to me than good sex. Fuck, he’d become my safe haven, hadn’t he? He was the place where I could be vulnerable without worrying about being judged for it. I could be real and honest with him. I was real and honest with him, and he’d been real and honest in response.

   Why else would I be here now?

   Was this me making my move? I thought maybe it was. No, it was. It definitely was.

   “Want anything to drink?” he asked, gesturing towards his kitchen. “I’ve got beer. No wine, unfortunately. Or there’s coffee.”

   “Water will do for now, thank you.”

   “Yeah!” He moved in the direction of the kitchen and stopped suddenly, turning to face me again. “Make yourself at home.”

   I smiled to acknowledge the gesture, and he walked to the kitchen as I sauntered over to the table, sitting down and gently laying my fingers on the circuit board. “What are you going to do with this?”

   “Not sure yet. I’m fixing it first. Thought it might be fun to make something out of it.”

   “Like what?” I asked.

   “Not sure about that, either.” He chuckled and came back with two glasses of water. I thanked him for the one he offered me. “I’ll have to do some research.”

   “Is it something you can use for that prototype of yours?”

   Chuck sat in his chair and leaned back against it, taking a sip. “Nah. That is a lot…smaller.” He chuckled. “And anyways, I’m not sure how to move forward with that at the moment. My prototype, I mean.”

   I nibbled on my lip a little. “Is that a new development?” He didn’t say anything. “You were so…gung-ho about it a few months ago.”

   It was a little disheartening, seeing a vast difference between how he’d looked when first telling me about the prototype a few months ago and how he looked talking about it now. The light had gone out of his eyes, as though something had drained him of enthusiasm.

   He merely shrugged, looking tired suddenly. “Nobody wants it, no matter how much I tinker with it, no matter how many improvements and upgrades I make, no matter how much pandering I do.”

   “I’m sorry.” I put my hand over his on the tabletop.

   “Nah, don’t be. I think I just need to step back and recalculate. Recalibrate.” He smiled.

   I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. But then again, I didn’t really know what he’d gone through the past few weeks, how many rejections he’d gotten, how many pointless dinners he’d had to attend, the amount of rich tech guys’ asses he’d had to kiss. All to no avail, apparently.

   “That makes sense. Give yourself a little R&R.”

   “Exactly.” He pointed at me and smiled. “So anyways, what’s this business you came for?”

   Before I went straight into the difficult part of my visit, I decided to run past him what had just happened on the phone. A small part of me realized just how much I must trust Chuck, considering I was telling him instead of my captain.

   “An acquaintance of mine from the FBI called me while I was at the station earlier. He was checking on me, making sure I was okay,” I said, tucking a hair behind my ear. I didn’t have any reason to feel fidgety while telling Chuck about Agent Warner’s phone call, but that didn’t make me fidget any less. I really shouldn’t have given him my phone number. I wondered for a split second if Chuck noticed, even if his face hadn’t changed since I began speaking.

   If I told him about Agent Warner and giving the agent my phone number, I would also have to tell him why I shut down the guy when he called back. I was willing to admit to myself that I felt like I was taken, like I belonged to Chuck. Even before our talk the other night, I’d been uninterested in any other men but him. But it was moving way too fast for me to say that out loud to Chuck just yet. Before we’d even been on a date, for fuck’s sake.

   I also just wasn’t interested in Tommy Warner, as attractive as he’d been in that well-cut suit. Any man looked attractive in a well-cut suit. It was the way the man looked in a nerdy T-shirt and jeans that was the big test. Or, after work, when he’s all dressed down and comfy, the way Chuck was right now. Chuck passed all of the physical tests, and the emotional ones, too. I didn’t care enough to find out more about Agent Warner.

   “It wasn’t until we were about to hang up that I realized there are only two people outside of the small circle of officers in my precinct that you met,” I continued, “My partner Casey, O’Bannon, Ruiz, Captain Graham. The only two people who should know about the bugs Fulcrum planted besides those guys are Agent Redding and you.”

   “Agent Redding?”

   “He’s the head of the LA division of the FBI.”

   “Holy shit.”

   “Yeah.”

   “How’d this other agent you spoke with know about it then?” Chuck asked.

   “Exactly. I asked him how he found out and he said word travels fast at the office. But I’m pretty sure that’s a load of horse shit. Because when a case is as confidential as mine is, you don’t let that stuff leak. There’s a lot riding on keeping the fact that I’d been bugged off the radar. So how many FBI agents know about me, about the attack, about the illegal surveillance of my home, about Fulcrum being our prime suspect?”

   “And how the hell did they all find out?” he added, his brow furrowed in concern.

   “Really good question.”

   “But what’s the answer?”

   “I don’t know.” I pushed a hand through my hair in frustration.

   “Well, this—this agent guy—”

   “Warner.”

   “Warner. Do you think, if you called him back, would he be able to tell you how he found out? A better answer at least than oh word travels fast la dee da.” He took another sip.

   “I…could.” I diverted my gaze.

   “Well, how do you know Agent Warner?” My eyes snapped back to his face. “I mean, have you known him awhile? Is he trustworthy? Maybe the head of the FBI told him, bringing him in on the case. He needed a right hand man or something. A second opinion.”

   “Graham said explicitly that only Agent Redding knows. Redding’s been feeding us files on Fulcrum that they have from his past infractions. None of which he was punished for since they never cracked those cases. And Graham has been getting in contact with a few of his contacts underground, seeing if they can scrounge anything up that’s a bit more…unofficial.”

   “Awesome.” His slow smile and look of awe was distractingly cute. I knew how much he got off on this, and even though it was a serious situation (and I knew he took it seriously) I found it a little adorable.

   “But Redding is a good agent. He’s very professional. He understands that my safety is at stake here. That bad things could come from the media and general public knowing about this. If we alert Fulcrum we’re onto him, we might never find him. And we might never find out why I was, or am, being targeted.”

   Chuck swallowed thickly. “There’s a mole.”

   “What?”

   “I’ve seen a lot of spy movies, cop shows…there’s usually a mole in a situation like this. Someone on the inside working with the bad guy. Trust me. I know about these things.”

   “Chuck. I’m an actual detective. In real life.”

   “I know that. But you can’t discount that there’s probably a mole in your precinct. Oooooo or in the FBI! Even juicier.”

   “You’re way too pleased about that.”

   He schooled his features. “Sorry. I know this is serious. I’m taking it seriously. But think about it. How else would all of these FBI agents know about the bug?”

   “Okay, well…”

   I paused, licking my lips, following this thread because why not? If nothing else, Chuck was getting a kick out of it. And I wouldn’t lose anything by at least listening to his crazy TV-inspired theories, would I?

   “If you’re right, and there is a mole in the FBI…” He looked incredibly excited that I was running with his theory. “…What do they have to gain by telling everyone else about it?”

   Chuck took a gulp of water and leaned forward with his elbows on the tabletop, his fingers steepled as he thought. “That’s a good question. Lemme think…”

   I did, watching as the gears in his head turned. I couldn’t think of a reason myself.

   “What if the mole is working with Fulcrum? I mean, he might have figured out by now that I disabled all of his hacks and bugs on your laptop, but he wouldn’t necessarily know that you know who did it. The mole spreads the word, the word gets to the press, the press releases it, and Fulcrum knows we’re onto him. Erm. Sorry. You’re onto him,” he amended as I gave him a look.

   “I mean, I get it, Chuck. But if there is a mole in the FBI, why wouldn’t they just tell Fulcrum directly if they’re working with him.”

   “I, uh, yeah. Right. I didn’t think about that.” He scratched his head. “Well, letting the word get out does throw a kink in the investigation sort of, doesn’t it?” he tried again.

   “It would slow us down. Press conferences. Media getting in the way. I’d be a little more high profile, and that’s definitely something I don’t need.”

   “You don’t want to be a celebrity?”

   I rolled my eyes in answer.

   “Right. I get that. So maybe that’s your answer. Someone’s trying to sabotage the investigation, or at least slow it down, buy some time for whoever is behind all this.”

   “Buy time for what, Chuck?” I asked, frustrated and tired as I rubbed my eyes.

   “To run away? Cover their tracks? Or maybe to…”

   “Plan something else. Fuck. What the hell do they want from me?”

   “Hey. It’s okay.”

   “It isn’t okay. I can’t do this anymore. These empty leads. I need some forward momentum or I’ll go crazy,” I said.

   “It’s only been less than a week since it happened, though. You’re being too hard on yourself. Here, drink some water.” He pushed my glass closer and I grabbed it, taking a few gulps. “It will be okay. I promise,” he said. “Even with more people knowing, they’re FBI agents, right? They aren’t your average Joe Blow. I mean, they aren’t going to endanger you and your case by telling the press. You’re a detective with the LAPD. I mean, technically you’re all kind of…in the same family.”

   He knew that wasn’t true, but I had to appreciate him trying.

   I shook my head wordlessly.

   “Maybe,” he said, and I could practically see the lightbulb flash on over his head. “Maybe it’s a warning.”

   “A warning?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

   “Yeah. Like, Fulcrum is letting you know he’s more powerful than you think. Maybe there isn’t a mole in the FBI, but Fulcrum hacked into, um, into Agent Redding’s email. For a hacker of his calibre that wouldn’t be too hard to do. Then he could have leaked it to other agents. And it spread that way.”

   “A warning,” I repeated slowly. “He’s sending me a message that he’s capable of anything. But what good does any of this do if I’m still in the dark about why he’s targeting me?”

   “Maybe he’s just a giant fucker and he wants to see you squirm.”

   I was squirming. I felt exposed, like things were totally out of my control. I hated it. I needed something to ground me again or I’d lose my shit. I needed to be a cop, for fuck’s sakes. And I needed to stop being so scared. I needed this tension out of me so that I could focus.

   “You know, this shit-eater might want it to blow up in the media for some other reason. Maybe as a warning to someone else.” He shrugged. “I don’t know who that would be, so maybe I’m just going down a totally wrong path here.”

   “It’s possible. Either way, I need to take things into my own hands now. I’ve gone through all the right channels and nothing,” I said, sighing. “I’m done playing by the rules. So I came here because I-I need your help.”

   He leaned in a little.

   “I need to get into those threads you were talking about last week at the station. I need an identity to log on with. A username or whatever. I need to see who this Fulcrum person is. I need to talk to him. And I need to use the language or whatever it is that hackers use, so that I’m not suspicious.”

   Chuck’s eyes slowly widened and he moved his hands to his knees, rubbing them on his pants. Then his eyes flashed, and the tension in his shoulders lessened. One corner of his mouth tilted up in a bit of a mischievous smirk.

   “Well, then I’m your guy,” he said slowly.

   And even though the sound of his voice, a little deeper than usual with that lazy drawl, mixed with the look in his eyes, gave me that certain sensation deep in the pit of my lower belly, I had to move onto the next item on the docket.

   “That reminds me,” I said quietly, gently twirling the ice in my glass of water with a graceful, circular movement of my wrist, “How did you happen to know about those threads in the first place? I mean, you seemed to know your way around the hacker world pretty well the other day.”

   His eyes snapped up to mine and I almost felt guilty. I didn’t want him to feel cornered, but I also needed to know. If I didn’t know everything, I couldn’t protect him from Graham or the other officers I worked with. What was it that defense attorneys always said? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth.

   “I, uh…I mean, I’m a tech-y kinda guy. I know my way around just about anything when it comes to technology. I’ve wandered onto a lot of different threads like that.”

   “Ah. To get ideas, huh?”

   “Exactly. Wait. I mean…not those kinds of ideas. Not hacking. I just meant, like, they don’t just talk about that stuff. They talk about different types of electronics, best brands, arc welding, coding, networking, video games, TV shows, movies…even Formula 1 on occasion. It isn’t just illegal stuff.” He’d given himself a bit of confidence with the tall tale he spun for me, I could tell.

   I decided to let him think I believed it…if only for now.

   “So a lot of people go on those threads. Not just hackers.”

   “Yeah.”

   “So you’d know how to make them all think I was a hacker? You think you could help me get Fulcrum into a conversation?”

   “Yes, but…what kind of a conversation are we talking?”

   “Well, you practically hacked circles around this person who’s an apparent superstar in the hacking world. So you’d know how to make ‘em think I’m not a detective on a sting operation, that I know just as much as they do. Right?”

   “I could help with that. Of course.”

   I was stroking his ego a bit, because as sweet and genuine as Chuck Bartowski was, he was also human. Complimenting him, praising him, words of encouragement…all of those things made a big difference for him in the bedroom. I felt him gaining confidence. The amount of times I just had to pant in his ear about how good he was in the sack to make him drill me harder, or get a little inventive with my body…

   I thought maybe I could get him to share more information with me. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, using some of the oldest interrogation tricks in the book on him. It was a little disingenuous of me. But I was doing it for him, technically.

   No matter what he’d done, whether he was a hacker or not, I wasn’t arresting him. I wasn’t going to betray him like that. I knew he wasn’t a danger to me, or to anyone else. That wasn’t what this was about.

   Captain Graham didn’t know him like I did, though. And Chuck would find himself behind bars in a second if he did do something illegal and Graham found out about it. I had to take care of him. Sure, he wasn’t my boyfriend…yet…but he was mine, and I protected what was mine.

   Chuck watched me as I rose to my feet then. “Think we could manipulate Fulcrum into boasting to us about what he did?” I asked, closing the distance between us and leaning against the table beside him. His hand automatically moved to my waist, and I felt his thumb rub over the sliver of bare skin exposed as my blouse rode up a little underneath my blazer. I shivered at his touch.

   “You’re the gumshoe. Leave the hacker lingo to me. You just get the dickwad to talk. You’ve probably interrogated so many bad guys, gotten them to talk…” He let out a soft groan as I set my hand in his hair. Sure, he’d gotten a haircut since that day in the Buy More parking lot, but the curls were still there. And I could still tangle my fingers in them.

   I thought now was as good a time as any to make my move. But he’d decided on it first, gently moving the hem of my blouse so that he could set his lips against my abs, his tongue licking along the grooves of my muscles. “Mmmm,” I hummed, and then I surprised him by tightening my grip in his hair and yanking his head back teasingly.

   “Take me to bed,” I said through my clenched jaw. I just wanted him so much. I wanted to feel him inside of me again. After 6 weeks now. I wanted his body on top of mine, his cock buried in my pussy.

   We both knew there was still business to take care of, but it was obvious we both thought we deserved a break. Those 6 weeks were tough on both of us after going for months with sex multiple times a week. And the tension inside of me needed to go away before I could focus again on all of this.

   He was on his feet in a moment, grabbing my hand, pulling me into the hallway, and finally into his bedroom. His hand slammed against the bedroom door to push it open and he marched straight to the bed.

   Apparently there wouldn’t be much foreplay involved, as he immediately set to undressing. I helped him, tugging his tie off over his head, giggling a little as it caught on his nose and he wrinkled it in a wince. I worked at unbuttoning his shirt, even as he tried to push my blazer off.

   We stood in nothing but our underwear in under a minute.

   I grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily. Even just this, the kissing…having him wrap me up in his arms securely and pull me tight against him…I had missed it so much. Just having him pressed against me. The magnetism between us.

   It was exactly what I needed in this moment to ground me, help me get away from the nerves, the fear. To dive into something I was good at, something I knew well.

   When we broke for air, I panted a little, my lips twitching in a smile, and then I backed out of his embrace towards the bed, reaching behind me and leaning down to grab at the duvet and sheet, tugging it out of the way, before draping myself onto the mattress.

   I reached up for him and he eagerly laid atop me, his body pressing mine into the bed, his legs tangling with mine. He kissed me again.

   “Mm, Chuck…” I whimpered against his lips, pulling back to dot kisses over his jaw to his ear. This felt amazing, his body so heavy, so strong and hot. And I pulled my head out of the clouds just enough to begin enacting my plan.

   “What exactly would I—nnn yes, baby!” I whimpered again. “Oh, touch me right there. Oh yeah! Again! Yes! Hnng!” His hand was cupping my sex over my panties, his fingers playing with me, rubbing circles. He was so good. “What would…What might I say to prove I’m a hacker?”

   Chuck growled lightly. “In the thread?” he panted.

   “Yes,” I whispered, arching my hips up against him and feeling his hardness.

   “I always talk about…binaries,” he murmured against my skin. “Bits.” And he bit my neck for emphasis, making me gasp and grin.

“Basically, when two hackers share bits, it’s like…information,” he said, nudging his hips against mine. I opened my legs and wrapped them around him, wriggling to get more comfortable, dragging a hand down his back and gently digging into his hip with my nails. He whimpered against my collar bone.

   “Tell me more,” I begged, my voice tinged with desperation. Not a bit of that was faked, either. I needed him inside of me so badly.

   “You chat in com mode,” he said, his voice rushed, and his fingers were starting to rub my sex a little more vigorously over my cotton panties. It was making it hard for me to breathe and think, but I had to focus. I had to stay on task.

   “What’s—oh! Fuck!” He slipped his two fingers under my panties now, sliding them between my labia and moving them up and down over my slit. “Oh, this is so good,” I panted. “What’s com mode?”

   “When your terminals are linked,” he explained, pausing to lick along my collar bone to its point in the middle of my chest and gently moving down to the swell of my tit. I breathed in deeply at the feeling of his lips and tongue there. “Whatever you say appears on the other terminals. It’s condensed to save typing.”

   “Like LMFAO?” I asked, still trying not to lose myself in the sensation of his fingers sliding over my entrance. “Laughing my fuck—fuck, that’s so good!” I yelped as he jerked his finger a few times over my clitoris.

   “Something like that.”

   “More,” I gasped, and I wasn’t sure if either of us knew whether I was talking about the hacker speak or what he was currently doing to my body.

   Chuck apparently settled with both, sinking his fingers inside of my pussy as he breathed, “There’s frobnicating.”

   “Oh! Oh shit. Shit yes,” I gasped, holding onto his shoulders tightly and looking up into his face as he lifted his head from where he was nibbling at the swell of my breast. “Is that like fornicating?”

   He chuckled, a light in his eyes as he looked down at me with that smile of his. He slowly started thrusting his fingers inside of me, and I was so turned on by the movement of his muscles in his shoulder, knowing that the muscles up there worked hard as he fucked me with his hand all the way down between my legs. “Not at all. It’s like—Oh!”

   I’d slid my hand down his back and under his boxers, squeezing his bare ass in my fingers, digging my nails in to let him know I meant business. He ground his fingers against the front wall of my vagina, buried as far as possible, and he found my g-spot. “Fuck! Right there! Yes!”

   He rubbed me slowly, excruciatingly, right over my g-spot. And stars danced before my eyes.

   “Frobnicating,” he breathed, his voice so deep. “Is like…fine tuning your program. You frobnicate at the last moment before you…oh fuck you’re strong.” He let out a soft huff of amusement as I squeezed his ass harder.

   “Or,” he breathed, his words a little strangled as I tugged him against me and arched up against his fingers with a moan. “You could piss ‘em off. In my experience…Mmmm,” he hummed, sucking on my shoulder and then nipping at it with his teeth teasingly. “…we’ve all got something to prove. You question a hacker’s programming skills, they’ll talk your head off about anything impressive they’ve done to prove you wrong. Way too easy.”

   “Nng…Done that before?”

   “Mhm,” he said, and then he pulled his fingers out of me.

   I hurried to scoot out from under him, pushing my panties down and kicking them off, unclasping my bra and shrugging it down my arms to throw it towards the end of the bed. He already had his boxers at his ankles, pushing them over the edge to disappear and flop to the floor.

   He was on top of me again, his torso angled over mine, nestled between my legs, his cock rubbing against my slit as he gently thrusted. “Call Fulcrum’s work a gedanken thesis and he’ll full on explode.”

   I was fit to explode in two seconds if he didn’t fuck me.

   “What’s a ged-gedank—” I just moaned instead of finishing my sentence, trying to arch myself into him, not caring how desperate and wanton I looked, writhing underneath him, clinging to his torso with begging hands.

   “A gedanken is basically a…” He took a deep breath as I reached between us and wrapped my fingers around his cock. “It’s a half-assed program that has a lot of bark but no bite. A lot of boasting without the product to support it.”

   Without really paying attention to what he was saying anymore, so close to feeling all of him that I could taste it, I guided him into me, moving my hand as he finally thrusted, slowly burying his cock inside of my pussy.

   “Fuck, it’s been so long,” I panted. “I missed this.”

   “Oh God, so did I. So did I.”

   I didn’t care to talk anymore as I bent my knees and wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as he fucked me slowly, his strokes hard and long. I whimpered in his ear, burying my face in his hair, his chest grinding against my breasts driving me half mad with need.

   I reached down to hold onto his ass, feeling those muscles I loved so much clenching with each thrust into me. The breathless giggle I emitted was full of enjoyment and awe. I hadn’t exactly forgotten what it was like to be fucked by Chuck Bartowski, but I’d definitely let the last 6 weeks make me wonder if maybe it wasn’t as good as I’d thought.

   But that was bullshit. Because it was somehow even better.

   As his thrusts got harder and faster, my heels weren’t doing enough to keep me in place on the mattress, and my body was beginning to move up towards his headboard.

   So I reached back to smack my hand against it, clinging, shoving my body against his to meet his strokes. He groaned my name and grasped me by my hips, fucking me a little roughly now.

   I loved it. And I groaned his name to let him know. “Chuuuuck. Oh, it’s so good. So fucking good. Just like that!” My voice hitched with each of his smacking thrusts, and I found myself grinning at that glorious sound filling my ears.

   When I came, my body spasming underneath his, I turned my face and bit his ear, whimpering loudly, achingly, clinging to him tightly. “Ohhh. Oh, fuck yes…”

   I finally went limp beneath him and he sighed, burrowing his face into my hair, holding me…more like cradling me.

   “You ever hack into anything, Chuck?” I finally asked into his ear. He was still hard inside of me, his shoulders rising and falling with deep panting breath.

   I felt him still at my question.

   “What?” I heard him asked, muffled against my hair.

   But before he could do or say anything else, I threw my weight to the side, grabbed his wrists, and pinned him and his arms to the mattress as I sat in his lap, his dick buried so deep in my pussy. I squirmed a little to let him know who was boss now and he groaned, his face still set in confusion.

   “Answer the question, Chuck,” I said, trying not to sound as breathless and turned on as I was, even this soon after an orgasm.

   He bounced his hips up against mine and I whimpered. Then he clenched his jaw and it turned me on even more, especially as his brown eyes went russet. “The hell is this?”

   “I want the truth. Just how do you know so much about hacking, Chuck Bartowski?”

   “I told you. I play around on the—fffffuck! Ung!” He looked down his body as I gyrated hard into him a few times. And then I stopped again. “Jesus Christ, Sarah. I play around with it. That’s all.”

   “I watched you that day, Chuck. In the precinct. It only took you a couple of hours to get through onto our password protected network. You destroyed those hacks, the bug, and did numerous other things I could probably never even begin to understand.” He struggled a little against me, but I had his wrists pressed down tightly, and I was pressing myself down against his lap hard. God, he was so deep in my pussy. It felt so good, but I had to focus on this.

   “It’s just—”

   “Don’t play around with me, Bartowski. I’m a detective. Remember?” I swung my ass up and then slapped it back down again, shoving him back into my pussy, our bodies smacking loudly. He let out a strangled cry of pleasure. “Gumshoe,” I whispered in his ear.

   Chuck groaned. “You know what it does to me when you call yourself that.”

   Exactly.

   I rolled my hips a few times, unable to keep from showing the ecstasy on my features. He felt so amazing, I couldn’t help it. But I got a little too lost in the ecstasy, and he must have recognized my lack of focus, because he broke my hold and flipped us over so that I was pinned to the mattress beneath him.

   He thrusted once into me, a long, hard thrust, and I gasped, biting my lip to keep from moaning.

   “I think it’s best for everyone involved if we drop the subject.”

   My eyes flashed as I looked up into his face. I clenched my jaw. Fuck no we weren’t dropping the subject. That was not happening. I bucked my hips up against his, wrapping my legs around him.

   “Just tell me, Chuck.”

   He had to know I wasn’t a threat to him. And he had to know he could trust me with the truth. That I wouldn’t him throw him under the bus. That I’d protect him.

   He thrusted again, a little more gently this time, and he lowered his face so that I felt his lips graze my ear. “I can’t.”

   And then he went at me hard again, swinging his hips, jamming his cock deep inside of me, over and over and over. I let it happen, enjoyed the hell out of it, for a good solid minute and a half. I just clung to him, biting down on his shoulder.

   He jolted at the bite and I threw us both to the side again. It wasn’t as clean as it had been the first time, and I had to wrestle him a little to get a proper grip on his wrists, pinning them above his head again. Luckily my ribs were healed enough for this, as well as my shoulder. Otherwise this would’ve hurt like a bitch.

   “I need you to,” I panted.

   “Why?” he growled, lifting his head so that our faces were close. I couldn’t stop myself from closing the rest of the distance and mauling him alive. We kissed passionately, devouring one another, but I made sure to keep my grip on his wrists as I began to ride him again.

   I whimpered into his mouth, managing to keep up a fast, rough pace. “Hnng!” I pulled my lips away just a bit. “Fuck, I’m trying to protect you,” I panted, arching my back with each stroke.

   Chuck surged up to press his face against my neck, bumping my chin with his nose as he shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean…” he whispered, his teeth nipping at my jaw.

   Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I stopped riding him and looked down into his face, sitting in his lap, our bodies pressed close. “Chuck, you literally tapped a few keys and the computer screen of my laptop went black and these numbers and weird symbols came up. It was like a fucking movie. How did you know how to do that? And how—no, wait…” I gasped, reaching down to grab his hand when I felt him press his fingers against my clit. God I wanted him to do whatever it was he’d been prepared to do to distract me. I really wanted his hand there. “Wait, Chuck. Please. How’d you know about the threads? How did you know so much about Fulcrum?”

   He didn’t say anything, but to his credit, he didn’t divert his eyes again. He stared straight into mine.

   I put my hands on his chest and slowly pushed him until his back was against the mattress again. “How did you even know to look in those threads? How did you get in so quickly? How was it so easy for you to do exactly what you had to do to get him out of my laptop?”

   “…Sarah, I…”

   “Tell me the truth.”

   His body was humming beneath mine, his hands on my thighs, squeezing, his eyes still full of lust in spite of the fact that I was currently interrogating him. Sort of. I didn’t typically fuck the suspects I was interrogating.

   When his hand slid around to cup my ass, I couldn’t hold out any longer. He was still inside of me, still so hot, buried so deep, his body hard as a rock and covered in smooth, warm skin.

   I began to swing my hips again, feeling half frenzied as I fucked him. He reached up to cup one of my breasts in his hand and squeezed, playing with my nipple as I yelped his name and felt another orgasm approach. I had to stay focused, even while we fucked, because I couldn’t let him flip me onto my back again. If he took away my control, if he started screwing me in earnest from on top, I knew I’d lose all semblance of sanity. He was so good on top of me.

   So I slowed my hips a little and braced my hands on his chest, still rolling gently into his lap. He groaned long and deep, his eyelids fluttering. I somehow knew he was going to come soon, like it was a sixth sense I’d acquired since we first started fuck buddying. So I stopped rolling my hips and instead I very slowly lifted my ass. He slid out of me slowly until just his tip was inside of me. And then I eased him back in just as slowly.

   I wiggled my hips when he was buried to the hilt, earning another groan from him. And then I repeated the action, over and over and over. Pulling him out, pushing him back in, out and in, out and in…so slowly that I was almost driving myself mad.

   But I had to be strong. Chuck’s chest was heaving with heavy, quick breaths. I was making him crazy, I knew. Teasing him. He was on the edge, wanting so bad to come.

   But I held off letting him have it, making this last as long as I could.

   “Why won’t you tell me the truth?” I asked, trying to keep from whimpering my question as I pushed him deep inside of me.

   “What makes you think I’m not?” He did whimper as I pulled him out again.

   And he made me mad with that answer. So I jammed myself back into his lap hard, causing both of us to moan. Chuck’s strong torso arched up from the mattress in ecstasy.

   “Fuck, that’s so good,” he gasped.

   I reached down to tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling a little to make sure he was looking into my face. “Do you think I’m an idiot, Chuck?” I gave one rough jerk of my hips. “Huh?”

   “Nnng! No, of course not.”

   “You must. I saw the shit you did to my computer, Chuck. Sure, I didn’t understand 78 percent of it, but I do know that you didn’t learn that by fixing people’s computers at the Buy More. For fuck’s sake, Chuck, come on.”

   He didn’t understand. I needed to know because I was trying to keep him safe. What if I was barking up the wrong tree, though?

   No, I wasn’t. I knew I wasn’t.

   He’d done amazing things that day, with nothing at his disposal but my keyboard and his brain. And I knew for a fact that Graham was probably just as suspicious as I’d been. Only reason he let it be was that there were more important things going on at the time. But what if Chuck got dragged back into the fray? And what if Graham didn’t let it go this time? What if Chuck ended up sitting in the interrogation room as a suspect the next time he was brought in there?

   Just how deep was he in the criminal hacker world? He was so well-versed in the lingo and the lifestyle. He knew the threads, he found Fulcrum pretty quickly, and it sounded like he’d already known of him before…

   “Sarah, you don’t understand.”

   “Then make me understand,” I said through my teeth, thrusting again. God, I was really close. My climax was right in front of me, all I had to do was reach out and touch it.

   “Mmm fuck,” he panted, arching himself up against me so that I gasped his name. Shit, that one almost put me right over.

   “It’s not that easy,” he growled, his jaw clenched.

   I grabbed his wrists and slammed his arms up by his head again, leaning forward and shifting my legs a little so that I was in a better position, stretching them out behind me and draping my torso over his. “It is easy. Just tell me the truth,” I said against his jaw, grinding on top of him, clenching my ass with each aching stroke of my hips.

   Almost there…so so close…

   “I can’t,” he whimpered, and I knew he was right there with me…

   “Are you a hacker?” I finally blurted, but I came right at the end of the question, my voice turning into a high-pitched whimper, my entire body tensing over his, the walls of my sex clenching around his dick.

   I didn’t quite know what happened, because the orgasm had taken over everything, all of my senses lost in ecstasy. But I was on my back when I regained my senses, and Chuck was fucking me roughly.

   He grabbed both of my legs and bent them so that my knees were by my shoulders and he drilled into me hard and fast. His balls slapped against me loudly, filling the room with a smacking sound that mixed with our whimpers and moans.   “Fuck!” I gasped. “Oh fuck me!”

   Chuck kept going in hard, until I felt him unload inside of me, so hot and invigorating as he filled me with his seed, his eyes widening, his body twitching, and God those muscles under my hands. So strong. I slid my hands down further to hold onto his ass, feeling it clench as he squirted one last time into my center.

   And then he let out a long groan and went limp on top of me. I held him close, wrapping my arms and legs around him, cradling him this time. I wanted him to know he could trust me with this, that I would protect him no matter what.

   “Tell me the truth,” I breathed in his ear a few moments later, feeling his hot breath against my neck. I rubbed his lower back with gentle fingers. “No matter what it is, you’re safe here. I promise.”

   Chuck went totally still, I stopped feeling his breath against my neck, and for a moment I feared he’d gone into post-coital cardiac arrest or something. But then he sighed, moving his face a little to bury it further into my neck, his arms hugging me a little, before he finally pushed himself up and pulled out, sitting up with his back to me.

   “Really? You’re a detective with the LAPD. My sister’s a doctor. She’s held to the Hippocratic Oath. I don’t think cops have that.”

   “Maybe cops don’t. But I’m not just a cop.”

   He ran a hand through his curls and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Right. You’re a detective.”

   “I’m a human being,” I corrected him, pushing myself to sit up beside him so that I could see him better. I reached up to cup his face in my hand and turned his head towards me. “A woman. I’ve got priorities that…” Should I say it? Should I? “…that I hold higher than my job. And I’m asking for the truth because I’m trying to keep you safe.” He had to understand the full depth of what I said. I needed him to because I wasn’t sure I could say it in simpler terms than that.

   “What are you talking about?” Chuck asked, shaking his head.

   “Answer my question first, Chuck. Are you a hacker?”

   “Stop.” He pulled his face out of my hand in annoyance.

   “Have you ever done anything that violates the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act?” He didn’t say anything so I scooted a bit closer. “Have you ever illegally gained access to another person’s computer without their permission, or broken into networks without authorization?” He worked his jaw and swallowed thickly. “Chuck!”

   Still nothing. But I could see his resolve crumbling just a little. I knew it was because of how he felt about me. And I felt awful. Guilty, even. I wasn’t trying to use his feelings to get him to cave. But my own feelings for him were telling me I had to keep at it. For both of us, but mostly for him.

   “Are you still doing it? Is that how you know so much about Fulcrum?”

   He sighed and let his head fall forward into his hands, thumping his forehead with the heel of his palm a few times, then sighing again and turning to look at me. “I was just trying to help you.”

   Something deep down in my chest ached at the look on his face. Like I was about to cuff him and bring him into the station, lock him up in a cell, and throw away the key.

   “You did help, Chuck. And you’ve got the wrong idea about this. Didn’t I tell you I’m trying to protect you? That you’re safe with me?” His brow furrowed. “Please just tell me the truth. I’m tired of beating around the bush. Are you a hacker?”

   He looked on the verge of answering, his features pained, and then he bit his lip instead. “It’s not easy to answer.”

   “Chuck, oh my God. Do I have to torture it out of you?”

   “I wouldn’t mind it,” he tried to tease, but it fell flat. I was tired. And I couldn’t handle him refusing to answer anymore. Not when we both knew what the answer was.

   “Chuck, answer the—”

   “Yes, okay?! Yes!” He immediately lifted his hand to cover his mouth, his eyes shutting for a moment, and then he turned his body on the bed to look at me. His brown eyes bore right into mine, serious, sincere. Always so sincere.

   “I’m a hacker.”

Notes: Thank you for reading. Let me know how you like it! Big stuff coming!
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Just A Game