Title: Roses Are Gold, Violets Are Silver
Pairing: Charlie Eppes/Riley Poole
Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Terrorists, treasure hunters, FBI agents, love, and attempted murder; what else could a trip to Los Angeles have?
Chapter: 1
Warnings: Minor cursing.
Note: Wow. I just reread the original version of this - yikes! Haha, I'm such a horrible bad!fic writer. So this is a National Treasure/Numb3rs crossover, and hopefully it's much better than it was before. There is no intentional character bashing in this, since I love them all. Written along the guidelines of Prompt # 6 for the lover100 challenge on LJ. Takes place in this season of Numb3rs. I do not own the characters or show/movies.
---
"So, uh, Ben, when do we get there?" Riley asked impatiently, looking out of the plane window. This was a matter of 'national security', so why was it taking so long to get to Los Angeles? They were in a jet, compliments of the FBI.
Ben sighed and held Abigail's hand as they went over the situation again. Riley listened attentively.
"So the FBI has used all of their sources and had to turn to us?" Riley asked. Ben nodded.
"Essentially, yes," Ben said.
"How does a painting qualify as an urgent matter of national security?" Riley asked, looking at Abigail. She always knew the answer. "I mean, some guy painted them before the United States was even founded. I highly doubt that it would have any information that could be used against the government."
"The agent I spoke to on the phone said that the group who stole this painting were terrorists," Abigail said. Riley couldn't help but give a short laugh.
"Stealing paintings is not something terrorists normally do," Riley said.
"These terrorists are different," Abigail said. She glanced at Ben then made eye contact with Riley. "They killed the security guards and the cops that responded to the alarm. This painting obviously meant so much to them that they-"
"Had to kill the people that were trying to keep them from stealing it," Ben interrupted. Abigail and Riley looked at Ben with confusion in their eyes.
"Yes, that was what I was about to say," Abigail said, tightening her hand on Ben's hand and giving him a stern look. Riley immediately felt uncomfortable.
"I didn't know if you would get to the point," Ben said. "I could see Riley's eyes beginning to glaze over. You know how he gets with -"
"Long explanations?" Abigail asked. "I do. See how annoying that is?"
"I could think of a few things that are even more annoying than-"
"Me finishing your sentence," Abigail said. "Yes, I'm sure you could."
"Could you guys stop?" Riley asked. "It's starting to freak me out. You're like the perfect couple in cheesy romance flicks."
"I don't -" Ben began.
"See how we can even -" Abigail said this with a smile. Riley wished he had kept his mouth shut.
"Be connected to such atrocious -" Even Ben had a small smile on his face.
"Just stop -" Riley was interrupted
"This nonsense because -" Ben dodged a pen thrown at him courtesy of Riley.
"It's highly annoying." Riley finished. Abigail laughed.
"You were asking for it," she said.
"No, you guys are just mean," Riley said. "Picking on me like that? I thought that kind of stuff stopped in first grade."
"We were picking on you, Riley," Ben said. "We were teasing you. There is a difference."
"Not in my book," Riley grumbled.
"Your book doesn't matter," Abigail said. "The only book that matters -"
"Is the dictionary," Ben said. "Preferably the Merriam-Webster version, but it could be any." Abigail looked amused and raised an eyebrow to him. Riley was glaring.
"I was going to say the only book that matters was my book," Abigail said. "But that works too."
"Back to the point," Riley said. "Why does the FBI need to know why the terrorists are so interested in the paintings?"
"Well for one thing, the paintings were handpicked by Mr. President himself," Ben said.
"And for another, the terrorists shot and killed one of their own," Abigail said.
"All good reasons to want to find them," Riley said. "But why are we getting called on this?"
"Well, originally, it was just me," Ben said. "I wanted to take Abigail, and I didn't want you complaining when I got back because I didn't take you."
"You said they wanted all three of us," Riley said. "What if they realize that there's three - not one - of us?"
"I'm sure they won't mind," Abigail said. "They need all the help they can get."
"Because my conspiracy theories are the perfect solution to all of life's mysteries," Riley said.
"Who knows, they could be," Ben said. "It's helped us out before." Riley gave a smug, appreciative smile. He loved praise, but then again, he had never met somebody who doesn't.
-
Riley was well prepared as he stepped off the jet. His pockets were stuffed with peanut packets and he even had the obligatory sunglasses on that FBI agents wore when they got off jets. He tried to walk slowly and dramatically off, but Abigail had just pushed him forward.
"Riley, you're the side-kick," Abigail teased as they made their way to Baggage Claim. She swiftly grabbed the sunglasses from his face. "Besides, we're inside, you could trip over something."
"Thanks, Mom," Riley said. When they finally got their luggage and went outside for their pick-up vehicle, Ben finally spoke up. Abigail hadn't given Riley back his sunglasses. He was the only one with unprotected eyes.
"Do you think they'd send a van for us?" Ben asked. It was an odd question for Ben to say. Abigail expected that from Riley.
"No," Abigail said.
"Unless they have free candy," Riley interjected. Abigail punched him lightly in the arm.
"Ow," Riley whispered, rubbing the spot on his arm. Ben's eyes were focused on the white van, his face expressionless. Abigail and Riley were standing behind him, wondering what he was seeing that they weren't.
The van drove past them with incident. Riley blinked.
"Ben, what's wrong?" Abigail asked, handing Riley his sunglasses and putting a hand on his shoulder. Ben was about to answer when a black SUV pulled into the space in front of them. Their ride had arrived.
"Get in," a woman said as she rolled down the passenger side window. Riley helped Ben put the luggage in the back of the car. Abigail got in the front seat and sat quietly. The two women waited patiently for Ben and Riley to get in.
"My name is Robin Brooks," The agent said. The woman was dressed in a dark business suit and sunglasses. "Did you get the information we sent you?"
"Yes, we did," Ben said. "Do you have any leads?"
"Not at the moment, but we have our team working on it right now," Robin said. "But I guess that since you're here, people will believe that some pirates have taken it. The whole city knows you're here, thanks to KABC. I'm surprised they don't get the damn BOLO or APB broadcasts when they're sent out."
"I didn't see any newscast vans," Riley said.
"Then I guess they're stuck in traffic," Robin said. "Traffic is jammed, like every other day. I'm surprised the news is on time every night."
"Are we really that famous?" Abigail asked. "We haven't done anything that the press has gotten wind of in two years."
"Two years and seven months," Riley piped up. Abigail rolled her eyes. She knew he was joking - it couldn't have been that long ago - but she could tell that he was, in a way, flirting with Robin.
"You all went on an adventure with the president," Robin said. "You also discovered real treasure, and cleared the name of a suspect in the Lincoln assassination. Not to mention you found the City of Gold."
"It's not like we filmed an award-winning film," Riley said. Ben just glanced at Riley before looking out the window. Abigail smiled to herself and sat back in her seat, holding her purse tightly in her hands.
"The way the press talks about your adventures, you seem to have done just that," Robin said. Her phone rang just as Riley opened his mouth to comment on that. He quickly shut it and opened a pack of peanuts, throwing them in the air and trying to catch them with his mouth. He wondered if he could get fined for making a mess in the back of a fed's car.
"It seems like they've just gotten a lead," Robin said, closing her phone. Riley perked up, excitement in his eyes. Ben and Abigail didn't even have to look at him to notice it. They had gotten so used to him acting like that that it came as a trait of Riley's. It was adorable, like in the way a two year old can't pronounce certain letters but try to anyway and end up saying "'Orsey" instead of "Horsey".
"Can you turn on the sirens?" Riley asked, leaning forward. Robin just blinked once and slowed as she approached a red light. She turned in her seat to him.
"This isn't a cop car, this is a federal vehicle," Robin said. "We don't have sirens, we just have speed."
"Then turn on the speed," Riley said. He blinked and leaned back a little. "That sounded a lot smarter in my head."
"I'm sure it did," Robin said, rolling her eyes. Regardless, when she turned back around, there were blue and red lights flashing in the front of the car. She sped up quickly, narrowly avoiding passing cars as she made a right turn.
Riley, out of instinct, quickly held onto the inside door handle. Ben smiled and leaned closer to Riley. Riley turned to him and Robin made another quick turn, making Riley's head jerk back and narrowly miss hitting the window.
"Well, I was going to say this isn't as bad as Abigail's driving but maybe it is," Ben whispered to him. Abigail half-turned in her seat and smacked him as hard as she could.
"Sorry," Ben said, returning to his side of the car. Abigail was fuming, upset that she had to act like that in front of somebody she barely knew. Ben felt some remorse, but only because Abigail hadn't him nearly as hard as she wanted to.
"We're almost there," Robin said, swerving in and out of some cars driving the speed limit.
"Where's the fire?" Riley asked, trying to keep his pockets from spilling his peanut packets. It took them two minutes to get to their destination. Riley stepped out of the car as dramatically as he had tried to be in the airport. This time he was successful. The others did look at him weird, though.
They all followed Robin inside, who was walking incredibly fast for somebody in heels. Her speed rivaled Abigail's, who had grown accustomed to walking quickly in heels. Riley and Ben had to practically jog to catch up with them at the elevator.
--
"Riley, Abigail, you two wait here," Robin said as she nodded to Ben to go into the briefing room where four men stood, talking among each other. Riley groaned but sat down in a chair anyway, taking out a bag of peanuts and staring at the floor. Abigail took a seat next to him and crossed her legs. She watched them carefully, trying to figure out what they were talking about.
"Peanut?" Riley asked, handing the small packet out in front of her. Abigail shook her head.
"No thank you," Abigail said. "What do you think they're talking about in there?" Riley shrugged.
"Probably super-secret FBI stuff," Riley said, attempting to pop a peanut in his mouth. He missed and it landed in his hood.
"You're really awful at that," Abigail said.
"I know," Riley said. "But you know what they say, practice makes perfect."
"You've always had terrible aim," Abigail said.
"Not always," Riley protested. "I can shoot things pretty well in Halo!"
"Because you aren't holding the gun," Abigail said, a small smile on her face. "If you had a gun in real life, you wouldn't know what to do with it."
"If you had a broken computer you wouldn't know what to do with it," Riley said.
"I know," Abigail said. "But I have you, so it's okay."
"You shouldn't always expect help from me just because I'm an expert at computers," Riley said.
"Not just computers - everything related computers," Abigail reminded him. "You see, there are geeks, then there are Rileys. Guess which one you are?" She seemed distracted, her eyes glued on the room.
"A Riley?" Riley asked, scowling at Abigail. He ate the last peanut in the packet and stuffed the bag in his pocket.
"Correct," Abigail said. "So stop complaining, okay?" She stood up as Ben exited the room with the five people behind him.
"How was that supposed to make me feel better?" Riley asked, standing up after her and jogging over to where she and Ben were. The others were beginning to disband and go their separate ways.
"Riley, meet Dr. Charlie Eppes," Robin said, pointing out a man who was talking to one of the detectives that had been in the room with her. He was about Riley's height, give or take an inch. "And this is his brother, Don."
"Hi," Charlie said, walking forward to greet Riley. Riley was an inch or so taller than him.
"Hey," Riley said, taking out another packet of peanuts and opening it. Robin seemed to have not noticed.
"You both will be working together on creating a computer program to accompany Charlie's theory," Robin said. "He can explain it better than I can." Riley just blinked.
"No conspiracy theories?" Riley asked. "No suspect?"
"Not yet," Don said. "And no."
"Riley, this isn't like Science Saved The Cat," Abigail said. "The FBI doesn't have a magical instrument that automatically tells them who the suspect is or why the crime was committed."
"I know that," Riley said. "But I expected… car chases, breaking and entering, you know, that kind of stuff."
"This is actual FBI work," Ben said. "It's not all fun and games."
"He's right," Don said. He tapped Charlie, who had been checking his phone, on the shoulder. "See you at Dad's later."
"Bye," Charlie said, putting his phone back in his pocket. Don and Robin walked off together.
"I guess we should head out," Ben said, holding a pair of keys out to Abigail. "We'll call you later, Riley."
"Yeah, okay," Riley said, watching them walk off with longing in his eyes. They were going to their nice hotel - surprisingly, Ben hadn't spent all his money on a sports car - and Riley would be stuck in a closed down room with somebody he didn't know. Memories were not the best things to dwell on in a crisis, especially memories as bad as the Charlotte incident.
"So what's this theory?" Riley asked. Charlie's eyes brightened up a little and Riley could tell he was really enthusiastic about it. Hopefully he could understand what Charlie was saying.
And he did. Well, most of it. He asked clarifying questions as they made their way to a room two floors down, and in that time had felt himself gain 10 IQ points. As soon as he saw the computer he would be using, he was disappointed.
"What?" Charlie asked, walking over to the computer and hitting a button on the keyboard. The screen lit up.
"I just expected something… that I didn't have at home," Riley said, sliding into the seat in front of the computer. "I expected something… huge."
"Like on Science Saved The Cat?" Charlie asked. Riley looked up at him.
"You watch that show, too?" Riley asked. Charlie nodded and pulled up a chair next to Riley.
"Yeah, when I have nothing else to do," Charlie said. Riley wasn't about to mention that he watched it religiously so he changed the subject.
"So how do I do this?" Riley asked. He had never done this sort of thing. He'd hacked into the security system at the National Archives and compromised the security at the Queen's Palace in London but this concept was new to him.
Well, figuring out how to input the equation was. He could do the rest on his own just fine. He wasn't completely incompetent.
Luckily, Charlie had and instructed him on what to do to get started. Riley wondered if he could do any serious damage to the FBI with this computer but refrained from asking for fear that he could be labeled a terrorist for the second time in his life.