arrest. (numb3rs)
don, billy; gen; pre-series
Don waits.
written for numb3rs100 march rewind prompts: countdown, sweat, uncertainty, reckless. no copyright infringement intended.
--
Don waits.
The porch light breaks the threshold of the Carver property, casting dangerous nets of light and dark. Inside, Mary Carver sits at the table, slowly smoking a cigarette - her third of the night.
Somewhere in the shrubbery to his left, Don knows Billy is crouched low, one eye on the house, one eye on the road. Derek Carver is a mean piece of work but like every other idiot con, first place he'll turn to is his missus.
A stolen Buick turns into the drive; Don counts the seconds as Carver approaches his front door.
"Hold it!"
--
It goes like this:
Don calls out, and Carver spins, hand reaching instinctively for his gun—
Billy approaches from Carver's right, body glued to the shadows like sand to the soil—
Mary Carver startles from her seat, taking two steps towards the cracked front window—
Carver pulls up his weapon, porch light glancing off the barrel—
Don's hands are slick against his gun, but his aim is steady, and he takes two steps forward, then another two—
Mary Carver's face goes ghost-white; her hand stills half-way to her mouth, frozen like a photograph—
and Carver's finger slip-slides on the trigger.
--
When the shot rings out, everything moves at once. Don's not sure who fired, except now Carver's swinging wildly away, and there's no time to think - they've got to get him down.
The second shot is definitely Carver's. Don sees the flash from the muzzle; the crack is so close to his ear that it takes him a moment to realise that the bastard's shooting at Billy, not him.
The four strides it takes to bring Don up on Carver's left stretch out infinitely and then he's on the porch step, and Carver's still shooting blindly into the dark.
--
"Put down the gun!"
Don knows that Billy is somewhere in front of him. He can hear his partner firing shots; can feet the gun in his hand, the flack on his chest, the steps beneath his feet. Carver swings around, levels his gun. They make eye-contact.
Suddenly Carver is falling towards him. The impact is hard and sends him reeling backwards. His head hits the ground with a resounding crack.
He looks up to see Billy slapping cuffs on Carver's wrists. "You sonofabitch. You could've killed me."
Billy laughs, low and smug. "Quit your bitching, Eppes. You're still breathing."
end.