Z is for Zeno's Paradox

By Jelsemium

Disclaimer: David Sinclair and his cohorts do not belong to me.

Author's Note: This isn't really a sequel to anything, but it's in response to Miz Em's comment about Cold Case. Hence, this is dedicated to Miz Em.


It had been a long day. Just because the bad guys have been caught and jailed, doesn't mean that my job is over. I have to make sure that every 'i' is dotted and every 't' is crossed so the perps don't walk out on a technicality.

I finished my report, double checked it, and then went off looking for my boss. I found Don Eppes in a conference room, working on a pile of paperwork. His brother, Professor Charles Eppes the math genius, was seated on the other side of the table focused on his laptop.

The Eppes brothers are an interesting contrast. Neither is exactly tall, but Don's muscular, and he has this intensity about him that makes me think of a Doberman pinscher.

Charlie, on the other hand is friendly and eager to please, rather like a cocker spaniel. The curly hair and soulful eyes don't detract from that image, either.

At that time, the difference between them was emphasized by their posture.

Don was hunched over a stack of reports, looking faintly harassed. Charlie had his feet on the table, laptop computer in his lap (of course), looking very relaxed and comfortable.

"Here, Don," I said, handing over my report.

Don suppressed a sigh and took my report. "Thanks, David, you can put that…" He stopped and looked around the over-laden table for a place to put it. "Hey, Charlie, move your briefcase, would you?"

"Hm?"

"Charlie. Move. Your. Briefcase," Don spoke very distinctly. Not because he was annoyed, but because he wanted to make sure that his command penetrated the math-haze that his brother usually operated in.

Charlie blinked at us. "Eh? Oh. Sorry," he said. He sat up, set his laptop on the table, and moved his briefcase to the floor beside his chair so Don could put my report in its place.

Then Charlie put his feet back on the table and the laptop on his lap.

"Hey, Charlie," I said, nodding in his direction.

Charlie looked up and smiled. "David, how's it going?" he asked pleasantly.

"I'm hoping it's going home," I said.

This got a laugh from him.

"Why are you still here, Charlie?" I asked, looking at my watch. "I thought you'd already finished your part of this case."

"He finished his analysis three hours ago," Don interjected. He flipped through a folder and added his initials to several pages.

"Two hours, forty-seven minutes ago," Charlie corrected absently. He finished jotting something on a notepad at his elbow and stuck his pencil between his teeth.

Before I could press for more information, Megan came in and dropped to a seat next to Don. She had a stack of papers in her hand that wound up in her lap because there was no place to put them. "Don, I need you to check this out," she said, handing him a sheaf of papers.

Don suppressed a sigh, took the sheaf and began leafing through it.

"Charlie!" Megan said with pleasure. "Why haven't you left yet?" She treats Charlie like he's her little brother, as we all do.

Charlie pulled his pencil out of his mouth and grinned at her.

"I figure that since my brother here dragged me into this case…" Charlie started.

"Dragged you? You practically handcuffed yourself to my desk to keep me from taking you off the case," Don interrupted as he frowned at Megan's paperwork.

Charlie made a face at him. "Then, when I came up with something, Don hauls me from my office with unseemly haste…"

"Don!" Don did a good imitation of Charlie. "I've made a break through! Come over right this very instant! Or sooner!"

"I never said that," Charlie said. He went back to typing. "The fact is that you drove me here in your car. So, obviously, you should give your wonderful, helpful, dearly beloved brother a ride home."

Don snorted and said without looking up, "'Wonderful?' 'Dearly beloved?' When did we get another brother?" Then he winced and shot a dirty look at Megan.

I decided to stay on my feet.

Colby chose that moment to walk in carrying a typed report. "Don?"

Don didn't suppress his sigh this time. "Hey, Chuck," he said.

Colby frowned.

"Yessss, Don?" Charlie drew the yes out for several seconds.

"What's the name of that Greek guy?" Don asked.

Charlie didn't raise his head, but he gave Don a sideways look. "A little more specific?"

Don waved Colby to a seat. Colby sat down in the only chair not occupied by a person or a stack of paper. Which meant he wound up between Megan and Charlie. I felt sorry for him at the time. Megan was obviously in a mood and Colby had a tendency to rile her.

"C'mon, the Greek guy who supposedly proved that Achilles could never catch up to a turtle," Don said.

"Ah," Charlie replied. "Zeno. He posited that if the tortoise has a head start, then Achilles could never catch up."

Colby frowned. "That makes no sense. It's easy to catch up to a turtle."

Charlie smiled at him, and I saw a lecture coming. I could have escaped, but Charlie does have an interesting way of explaining things. Besides, I was curious about why Don had brought up Zeno in the first place.

"You're right, Colby, that's why it's called Zeno's Paradox," Charlie said. He gestured as he described the scene. "Picture this. The tortoise starts running from Point A."

"Tortoises can run?" Colby asked.

Charlie laughed. "Well, it comes as close to running as a tortoise can get. Then Achilles starts running. By the time Achilles manages to reach Point A, the tortoise had moved to Point B. When Achilles reaches Point B, the tortoise has reached Point C. When Achilles reaches Point C…"

"Then Megan comes in with another load of paperwork," Colby said. Then he winced and reached down. I bet myself he had a sharp pain in his shin.

"And so Achilles will never catch up on his paperwork, I mean, will never catch up to the tortoise," Don said. He sounded tired.

"You can go home," Charlie said mildly. "The paperwork will still be here tomorrow." He uncrossed, then recrossed his ankles. The fact that they stayed on the table is more proof of his high IQ. He keeps his legs out of Megan's reach.

Not that Megan would ever kick him.

Don studied Charlie suspiciously. "Charlie, what are you up to?"

"Page forty-three," Charlie answered mischievously.

Don rolled his eyes. "I'm not interested in your grant proposal. I want to know why you're still here."

Charlie gave him a bright smile. "You're still here. Somebody needs to keep an eye on you."

"You're baby sitting me?" Don asked incredulously.

"Don, you've been here since the crack of dawn," Charlie said seriously. "You need something to eat and a full night's sleep."

"Since when is 'crack of dawn' a mathematical term?" Don demanded.

Charlie rolled his eyes and gave a deep sigh to indicate how misunderstood he was. "Here I am, trying to look after my big brother out of the goodness of my heart…"

"You have a heart?" Don asked. "Ow!" he glared at Megan.

Megan smiled sweetly at him.

"Seriously, Don, you have to take better care of yourself," Charlie said. "Since you just acknowledged that you can never catch up on your paperwork… and it was you who brought that point up, by the way… then there is no point in half killing yourself trying when this stuff will still be here in the morning."

Don hesitated and looked at his watch.

"C'mon, Achilles," Charlie urged. "I'll explain how Kant, Hume and Hegel will allow you to catch up to that rascally tortoise."

Don sighed and carefully stacked the paperwork on the table. "All right. All right. I'll take you home. C'mon. And since you're intent on taking care of me, you can buy me dinner. I'm starving."

"Awww…" Colby said.

Megan scowled at him.

"What? Don't you think it's nice the way these two look after each other?"

Megan twisted in her seat, and then yelped.

Charlie sat up abruptly, swinging his feet to the floor. "What's wrong? Ah, geez, Megan, I didn't realize I put that in your way." He pulled his briefcase from under the table. I had seen Charlie put his bag down. That was not where he had put it.

Colby smirked at me. "You okay, Megan?" he asked, turning his smirk on her.

"No, Colby," Megan said dryly. "My feet are killing me." She reached down and rubbed the toe of her shoe. She looked at me suspiciously. "Something amusing you, Sinclair?"

"Oh, I just lost a mental bet with myself," I answered. I didn't explain that Colby must have moved Charlie's bag when I thought he was merely rubbing his shin. "And you should wear more practical shoes," I added.

I retreated before anybody could respond. I didn't plan on testing if that Zeno fella could keep Megan from reaching me or not.