Here we are, the first oneshot of many stemming from the Pressure universe. Hopefully this explains a little bit more of the dynamic between Amita and Charlie - they always seemed like better friends than lovers to me.
Disclaimer: I don't, nor have I ever owned Numb3rs. If I did, they would've gotten the personality dynamics right, damnit.
Cover Fire
"Hey, Charlie?"
"Mm?" Charlie pulled the headphones from his ears - apparently, Amita had caught him in the split-second window of opportunity between songs.
She put her bag down by the door, steadying herself for an awkward conversation she didn't particularly want to have. "I think we need to talk," she said, watching her thesis advisor set down his chalk.
"About...?"
"Your dad," she said. "I don't think we can work at your house anymore, not with the way your dad is about us. It's too awkward."
"I know, and I'm really sorry, it just keeps him off my back about...a lot of things I'd rather he not get on me for. We can meet somewhere else, like the library or the coffeeshop or wherever. If you prefer."
Amita folded her arms, intrigued by his flustered lack of detail. "What things would you rather he not get on you for?"
"I, ah..." He floundered, trying to find a way to explain that didn't sound as awkward or bizarre as it was in reality. "Well, um. God, this is so awkward. Uh, I... I'm...not, necessarily, into...I guess, I'm not interested in..." He sighed, his face heating up to a spectacular shade of red. "Um. I'm...gay, I guess is what I'm trying to say here."
Amita nodded slowly. "Oh...okay then. That's..."
"Look, I'm really sorry about this...whole thing. If you want, I can recommend a number of other really great professors who would be more than happy to help you with your thesis, if this is too awkward for you -"
"Charlie, it's fine," Amita said, cutting him off before he could pick up any more speed. "I don't care, really. In fact, this makes me feel a lot better about...us. Together." She flashed a smile to hopefully put him at ease again. "Better than you getting the wrong idea here."
"Aha, yeah," Charlie laughed nervously. "You, ah, don't mind? About my dad, and everything?"
"Not the first time I've dated a gay guy," she joked. "You should tell him though. He'll be fine with it, I promise."
Charlie grimaced. "Maybe. I'd really rather not be disowned by my only living relatives, though."
Amita rolled her eyes. "I'll cover you for a year with him, at most. But if you havent' worked up the nerve by then, I'm telling him myself."
Charlie paled. "Guess I have an ultimatum, then."
-x-x-x-
"Hey, Charlie, do you have those lecture notes - oh." Amita paused in the doorway, blinking at the heated scene before her. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were, ah, busy. I'll -"
"Oh, hey. Lecture notes. Right," Charlie panted, pulling himself away from a tall man with dark hair and an impatient expression. "Um, Amita, this is Ian. Ian, Amita."
Ian nodded in a strained attempt at politeness, clearly annoyed with the interruption. Amita waved awkwardly and accepted the notebook from Charlie's hand. "Have you brought him home yet?"
"No," Charlie grimaced.
"Eight months, Charlie," Amita reminded him, turning to leave. Charlie groaned.
"What was that," Ian demanded.
"It's complicated," Charlie said, shoving himself into Ian's personal space again.
"Sure it is," Ian muttered, but Charlie's lips against his were more than enough incentive to let it go.
-x-x-x-
A paper cup was deposited on his desk, the only warning before Amita wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You're moping about something," she said, her cheek resting comfortably against the top of his head.
"Am not," Charlie protested dismally, leaning back into her hug anyway.
"Yes, you are," she insisted. "What's wrong, huh? C'mon, we're friends."
Charlie sighed. "Ian's been gone for three weeks."
"Oh," Amita cooed, totally sympathetic. "Doesn't he usually call, though?"
"Not this time. Guess he's working a hard case," Charlie muttered. "I just...had a bad night last night. I'll be fine, I promise."
Amita squeezed his shoulders. "Well. Some coffee might help. And we'll go to lunch later, if that'd make you feel better?"
Charlie smiled. "I love you, you know that?"
"I love you too. Drink up, you have a class in twenty minutes."
-x-x-x-
"Edgerton."
"Ian, it's Amita. Charlie's friend."
Her introduction was met with silence, and for a second, Amita was tempted to believe he'd hung up. "How did you -"
"What part of Charlie's friend is confusing for you?"
Ian paused again. "Right. Anything...in particular you had to say? Or is this just a social call?"
Amita took a deep breath. "Okay, look. I have no issues with you and Charlie," she said, pacing her small apartment's living room. "But I'm going to have an issue with you if you don't man up and call Charlie, right now."
"Did something happen," Ian asked, and Amita had to convince herself that he sounded marginally worried.
"He's not dead, not that you'd care if he was," Amita snipped, unable to restrain herself. As happy as Ian made her friend when he was around, she was more than happy to give him a piece of her mind if he was planning on making a habit of this drop-off-the-planet routine every few weeks. "Listen, he had a really bad night last night, and it would make him feel a lot better if you would take twenty minutes out of your undoubtedly packed schedule and assure him you're not dead."
She practically felt him wince across the phone line. "Sorry, I...tend to get a little single-minded when I'm working."
"Just call him," Amita sighed. "You have an hour to do so, and if you haven't spoken to him by then, don't bother coming back to LA at all."
"...Really," Ian said, disbelieving.
"Really. Don't doubt me, Ian, I will make sure that you will never speak to Charlie again. I'm calling Charlie in an hour. If you haven't called him, there will be hell to pay." She hung up and slumped into her couch. "The things I do for you, Charlie," she sighed.
-x-x-x-
"Hello?"
"Hey, Charlie," the voice on the phone said, almost cautiously.
"Ian?" Charlie took a step away from the black board, his heart picking up at the sound of his boyfriend's voice. "Hey, what's going on? You're okay, right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just...hadn't talked to you in a while. Thought I'd check in."
Charlie smiled. "Not gonna lie, I'm really glad you called. I...missed you. A lot."
"I, ah, heard you had a rough night last night," Ian said. "You okay?"
"I'll get there," Charlie sighed. "Just had a hard time sleeping last night."
"I'm sorry," Ian said. "Any reason?"
"Nightmare," Charlie said, choosing not to elaborate. "Who told you I had a bad night? I haven't talked to Don all day - I think I actually only talked to Colby, and that was just on the phone."
"Amita called me. I guess she jacked my number off your phone. She, ah, said if I hadn't called you in an hour I shouldn't bother coming back to LA at all."
Charlie laughed, startled and highly amused. "She what?"
"She threatened me. Ballsy, that one."
"I love her," Charlie chuckled.
"Yeah, well, she reminded me I hadn't called in a while, and I'm assuming this godawful feeling is guilt of some kind. So," he sighed, "I'm sorry?"
Charlie grinned. "Forgiven," he said, feeling an enormous loneliness fade to nothing. "So, do you have to get off soon?"
"Not for a while, I can't do anything until dawn, so whenever you get tired and decide to go to bed."
"Cool," Charlie said. "How close are you to making an arrest?"
"Few days, maybe a week if I screw this up."
"Please don't screw it up," Charlie asked, the prospect of not seeing his boyfriend for a week longer than necessary distressing.
"Don't intend to," Ian laughed. "You going to be okay?"
"Yeah, I'll live. Just don't draw this out, okay? Please?"
"I think I can manage that. Call me if you hit another rough night, though," Ian insisted.
"I'll do that." Charlie yawned, blinking as weariness swept over him. "I love you."
"Love you too. Sleep well, and say hi to Amita for me."
-x-x-x-
"Hey, Dad?"
Alan Eppes looked up from his crossword puzzle. "Yes, Charlie?"
His youngest son fidgeted before drawing up his nerves and taking a deep breath. Alan set down his newspaper, preparing himself for whatever important announcement Charlie had.
"Um, you know how Amita has been around the house a lot, and, um, you and Don think she and I are dating?"
Alan stared over his reading glasses, clueless of where this could be going. "You are, aren't you? You two go out together all the time."
"No, we're not dating, we're just really good friends. Truth of the matter is... I'm dating someone else. Have been for a while, I just didn't want anyone to know, really."
"Why not? I'm sure whoever this young lady is, she's just fine. As long as you're happy, I don't care who's in your life."
Charlie grimaced. "It's not a 'young lady', Dad."
Alan's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Oh...okay. But just how much older than -"
"Dad, I'm gay, alright? I'm dating Don't friend Ian, and we've been together for seven months already, and damnit, we're happy, okay?" Charlie winced at his own outburst and lowered his voice. "That's how it is, Dad. Amita knew, and she agreed to keep you from asking until I was ready to tell you. If you can't handle that about me...then I'll leave. I know it's probably a lot to process, and...yeah." He gritted his teeth and grabbed his jacket off the chair it was draped over. "I'm at CalSci if anyone needs me."
Alan was left speechless as Charlie closed the front door behind himself, the crossword laying forgotten on the end table.
-x-x-x-
Amita answered the door in her pjs, a carton of Ben and Jerry's in one hand. "Charlie," she said, surprised to see him. "Hey, what's up?"
"Are you busy," Charlie asked quietly, looking around like he wasn't sure where he was supposed to be. Amita cocked her head, reaching out for his hand.
"No, I was just going to put on a movie and settle in for the night. Are you okay? You look like something terrible's happened."
"I... I don't know. I, um, told my dad."
Amita's eyes softened. "Oh, Charlie," she said, pulling him into a warm hug. "I"m so proud of you," she whispered in his ear, rocking him gently back and forth.
Charlie laughed weakly. "That makes one of us," he muttered, arms wrapped around her waist like a needy child.
"How'd he take it," Amita asked, pulling him into the apartment and closing the door behind him with a gentle click. 'He didn't get pissed off and kick you out, did he?" Amita looked him over worriedly. If she'd caused some irreparable damage between her best friend and his family...
"No, no, nothing like that," he sighed. "I, um. I don't actually know how he reacted, I kind of just told him and left."
Amita chuckled despite the situation. "You panicked?"
"I... Yeah."
She grinned. "Charlie, I love you, know that?" She looked at the ice cream in her hand and offered a small, encouraging smile. "Wanna stick around for a while? I'd share."
Charlie smiled back, feeling a little pathetic and a lot grateful. "Sure, I'd love to. What were you going to watch?"
"Queen To Play. Romantic comedy about chess - I think you'll like it."
"I'll give it a shot." Charlie kicked off his shoes and sank into her couch. "Don's going to hear about this before long," he groaned.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Amita said, handing him a spoon. "And whatever happens, I've got you covered."
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