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Cookies for Colby!
After the last episode of Numb3rs, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meletor_et_al demanded Hugs for Colby! I am all in favor of Colby getting loved up, and for some reason my brain veered off to moments like Joyce giving Spike hot chocolate, and Fathers and Daughters by David Hines, one of my favorite DC Comics stories ever, in which Jim Gordon is the only good daddy in all of Gotham.
So I wrote this, andiuliamentis told me to stop picking at it and post already.
Colby, gen. Set early or pre-S2, but with slight spoilers for 2x16, "Protest."
It wasn't the first time Colby had been sent to check up on their genius math consultant in the middle of a case, but it was the first time he'd been told to go to Charlie's house instead of his office at CalSci. He'd needed directions, and Don had reeled them off like he'd given them a million times. Colby was out in the parking lot by the time he remembered that Charlie still lived with his dad. His and Don's dad: in the house where Colby's CO--Colby's boss--had grown up. So this wasn't going to be weird at all.
He parked in the driveway and spotted the door into the garage standing open, so he headed that way first. Even before Colby's eyes adjusted to the dimness, he knew Charlie was there: he could smell the chalk and hear it tapping on the board. He knocked on the doorframe as he stepped inside, and Charlie turned. "Hi!" Charlie said. "Um."
"Colby," Colby supplied. They'd only met twice, and Charlie Eppes seemed like the kind of guy who took a while to learn names. "Don sent me over," he added, in case the name wasn't enough of a hint.
"Right," Charlie said, and looked back at the chalkboards. "I need a few more minutes with this."
"Okay..." Colby said. If it were going to be a few minutes, he should wait; if it were going to be hours or days, he should go back. He didn't have the slightest idea which Charlie meant. "Should I, uh..."
Charlie looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "You could wait in the house," he said, and the words were oddly stilted, like Charlie had learned them from a phrase book. "I'll be there in a minute."
"Okay," Colby repeated, to Charlie's back. Sure. He could wait in the house.
He headed across the driveway and, after a brief hesitation, in through the back door. He stopped dead, standing on the mat: the house smelled like a home, like a place where a family lived, and like sugar cookies. He stared down at his feet for a minute, trying to shake off the lethal combination of homesickness and uncertainty, wondering where exactly he should wait, and then someone said, "Hello there."
Colby looked up, startled, at--it had to be Alan Eppes, Don and Charlie's dad. "Hi," Colby said blankly, staring at the man who'd raised his boss, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, flip-flops and oven mitts.
"Are you one of Don's, or should I be asking to see your warrant?"
Colby smiled. "I work with Don, sir. Colby Granger." He reached out a hand to shake, but Alan just waggled one oven-mitted hand at him, looking amused, and Colby took it back. "I came by to see if Charlie was finished with the--" Colby stopped short, half to avoid breaching security and half because he couldn't remember anything but the word analysis. "Thing he was doing," Colby finished. "He told me to wait in here for him."
"Did he?" Alan said, looking oddly impressed. "He may learn a social grace or two yet. Well, come in, sit down. It's never just a few minutes with him."
Colby followed Alan into the kitchen, where racks of cookies were cooling. His mouth watered, and Alan grinned and said, "Help yourself."
Colby nodded, reaching cautiously for a cookie as Alan turned away to take more cookies out of the oven. "Thank you, sir."
Alan's gaze was thoughtful as he set down the last pan of cookies. "Two sirs in three minutes, Agent Granger. You an Army man?"
Colby nodded, chewing and swallowing his bite of cookie. "I had about three weeks' leave between Afghanistan and Quantico."
"Mm," Alan said, but Colby recognized the gleam of politics in Alan's eyes. He took another bite of cookie to spare himself immediately answering whatever came next, but Alan's voice was mild as he said, "I was a war protestor myself, back during Viet Nam."
Colby chewed carefully. It was a good cookie, just sweet enough, just hot enough. He swallowed and said, "I hadn't been born yet during Viet Nam. Sir." It wasn't any kind of answer, but it deflected most people who were willing to be deflected, and if Don and his father were on speaking terms, Alan had to be willing not to talk about some things. Colby took another bite of his cookie just to be on the safe side.
Alan smiled. "You and Charlie both missed--"
The back door slammed, and Charlie called out, "Agent, uh, Colby?"
Alan snorted and shook his head. "Land-speed record," he murmured, and then called back, "We're in the kitchen, Charlie."
"Just Colby," Colby said as Charlie walked in, holding a folder. "You done?"
Charlie shook his head and grabbed a cookie. "I have to run this through the computers at school. Can you take me over there?"
"Sure," Colby said. A clear objective in familiar territory: that was the kind of job he liked. He turned to Alan with his hand out. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"Just Alan," he said, still smiling as he shook Colby's hand. "Go on, take one for the road."
Colby grinned and grabbed another cookie and headed out, genius in tow.
Also, thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes! I have not been having the most festive birthday imaginable, but my flist has been making me smile all day.
meletor_et_al demanded Hugs for Colby! I am all in favor of Colby getting loved up, and for some reason my brain veered off to moments like Joyce giving Spike hot chocolate, and Fathers and Daughters by David Hines, one of my favorite DC Comics stories ever, in which Jim Gordon is the only good daddy in all of Gotham. So I wrote this, and
iuliamentis told me to stop picking at it and post already. Colby, gen. Set early or pre-S2, but with slight spoilers for 2x16, "Protest."
It wasn't the first time Colby had been sent to check up on their genius math consultant in the middle of a case, but it was the first time he'd been told to go to Charlie's house instead of his office at CalSci. He'd needed directions, and Don had reeled them off like he'd given them a million times. Colby was out in the parking lot by the time he remembered that Charlie still lived with his dad. His and Don's dad: in the house where Colby's CO--Colby's boss--had grown up. So this wasn't going to be weird at all.
He parked in the driveway and spotted the door into the garage standing open, so he headed that way first. Even before Colby's eyes adjusted to the dimness, he knew Charlie was there: he could smell the chalk and hear it tapping on the board. He knocked on the doorframe as he stepped inside, and Charlie turned. "Hi!" Charlie said. "Um."
"Colby," Colby supplied. They'd only met twice, and Charlie Eppes seemed like the kind of guy who took a while to learn names. "Don sent me over," he added, in case the name wasn't enough of a hint.
"Right," Charlie said, and looked back at the chalkboards. "I need a few more minutes with this."
"Okay..." Colby said. If it were going to be a few minutes, he should wait; if it were going to be hours or days, he should go back. He didn't have the slightest idea which Charlie meant. "Should I, uh..."
Charlie looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "You could wait in the house," he said, and the words were oddly stilted, like Charlie had learned them from a phrase book. "I'll be there in a minute."
"Okay," Colby repeated, to Charlie's back. Sure. He could wait in the house.
He headed across the driveway and, after a brief hesitation, in through the back door. He stopped dead, standing on the mat: the house smelled like a home, like a place where a family lived, and like sugar cookies. He stared down at his feet for a minute, trying to shake off the lethal combination of homesickness and uncertainty, wondering where exactly he should wait, and then someone said, "Hello there."
Colby looked up, startled, at--it had to be Alan Eppes, Don and Charlie's dad. "Hi," Colby said blankly, staring at the man who'd raised his boss, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, flip-flops and oven mitts.
"Are you one of Don's, or should I be asking to see your warrant?"
Colby smiled. "I work with Don, sir. Colby Granger." He reached out a hand to shake, but Alan just waggled one oven-mitted hand at him, looking amused, and Colby took it back. "I came by to see if Charlie was finished with the--" Colby stopped short, half to avoid breaching security and half because he couldn't remember anything but the word analysis. "Thing he was doing," Colby finished. "He told me to wait in here for him."
"Did he?" Alan said, looking oddly impressed. "He may learn a social grace or two yet. Well, come in, sit down. It's never just a few minutes with him."
Colby followed Alan into the kitchen, where racks of cookies were cooling. His mouth watered, and Alan grinned and said, "Help yourself."
Colby nodded, reaching cautiously for a cookie as Alan turned away to take more cookies out of the oven. "Thank you, sir."
Alan's gaze was thoughtful as he set down the last pan of cookies. "Two sirs in three minutes, Agent Granger. You an Army man?"
Colby nodded, chewing and swallowing his bite of cookie. "I had about three weeks' leave between Afghanistan and Quantico."
"Mm," Alan said, but Colby recognized the gleam of politics in Alan's eyes. He took another bite of cookie to spare himself immediately answering whatever came next, but Alan's voice was mild as he said, "I was a war protestor myself, back during Viet Nam."
Colby chewed carefully. It was a good cookie, just sweet enough, just hot enough. He swallowed and said, "I hadn't been born yet during Viet Nam. Sir." It wasn't any kind of answer, but it deflected most people who were willing to be deflected, and if Don and his father were on speaking terms, Alan had to be willing not to talk about some things. Colby took another bite of his cookie just to be on the safe side.
Alan smiled. "You and Charlie both missed--"
The back door slammed, and Charlie called out, "Agent, uh, Colby?"
Alan snorted and shook his head. "Land-speed record," he murmured, and then called back, "We're in the kitchen, Charlie."
"Just Colby," Colby said as Charlie walked in, holding a folder. "You done?"
Charlie shook his head and grabbed a cookie. "I have to run this through the computers at school. Can you take me over there?"
"Sure," Colby said. A clear objective in familiar territory: that was the kind of job he liked. He turned to Alan with his hand out. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"Just Alan," he said, still smiling as he shook Colby's hand. "Go on, take one for the road."
Colby grinned and grabbed another cookie and headed out, genius in tow.
Also, thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes! I have not been having the most festive birthday imaginable, but my flist has been making me smile all day.