Little Grey Box
By Dragon's Daughter 1980
Disclaimer: Other than being a fan, I have nothing to do with Numb3rs.
Author's Note: This was a birthday fic for one of my sister-triplets who gave me the prompt, Charlie/Amita, watermelon pink.
"What's this?"
With a bemused expression, Charlie walked into the living room. His wife looked up and bit her bottom lip, torn between laughter and exasperation. Chalk dust was everywhere on him, especially in his curls from when he had run his hands through his hair as he had worked on his Cognitive Emergence Theory. Amita settled for an amused smile because some things about him would never change, and then she saw what he was holding in one hand. Her heart pounding against her ribs and her stomach abruptly twisting, she made herself say lightly, "It's a box, Charlie."
"I can see that," her husband responded in the same teasing tone, walking towards her spot in the living room. She quickly cleared a seat for him on the couch, turning briefly away from him to put her students' papers on the table. His hand covered one of hers and she let him draw her attention back to him as he sat down next to her. He held up the slim, gray box, making sure it stayed flat. "What I'm wondering is why you put it on my work with Larry on M-Theory."
"What makes you think I put it there?" she asked carefully. She had put it there, on purpose, but she wondered if he remembered why. He squeezed her hand, "Because I think you're trying to tell me something."
"Oh?" Amita hoped she sounded as noncommittal as she had meant to sound. "And what do you think I'm trying to say?"
He released her hand, took off the lid of the box and lifted out its contents, holding the narrow plastic stick with trembling fingers. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the faint watermelon pink lines, slowly fading against the soft white background. He held it between them, staring at the double markings with an expression of awe in his eyes.
"I think—" Charlie faltered for a moment before he continued quietly, "I think that Don won't mind if we turn his old room into a nursery."
"Charlie—" began Amita, but the words flew out of her grasp. He gently set both box and pregnancy test on the coffee table before he grasped her hands in his. They were both shaking a little, trying to process the information. After today, nothing would be the same for them, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Meeting her eyes, he smiled tenderly at her, "You're going to be a wonderful mother. We can do this. We'll do it together."
She nodded, tears in her eyes and agreed, "Together."
Leaning forward, he drew her close and caught her lips with his for a brief kiss. He whispered to her, "I love you; I love you both."
She giggled before she whispered back, "We love you too."
Charlie and Amita cuddled together on the couch before the jingle of keys from the front porch told them their private moment was over.
"Hi Charlie, Amita," said Alan, locking the front door behind him. "How are you two? Oh, before I forget, Don and Robin are coming over tonight for brisket. They have news they want to tell us, and I say it's about time your brother asked her the question."
The couple exchanged glances and then stood up from the couch, their hands intertwined together as they turned to face Alan.
"Actually, Dad," Charlie began, but Amita continued, "Charlie and I have something we want to tell you."