Disclaimer:I disclaim. Most ardently.
A/N: Invicta, from the Latin 'invictus', meaning 'unconquered'. And here I thought it was just the name of the radio station I like… Oh, and it's also the motto of the lovely county of Kent; a little British history for you.
Invicta
The maze of desks proved to be unchallenging to the mathematician who could now walk the path between the elevators and his brother's desk in his sleep, what with three years of experience under his belt. It was the people, and sometimes, boxes upon boxes of files placed on whatever open space was available at the moment which had him pausing in his tracks during his waking hours, and would have had him stumbling and crashing during his sleeping hours, but never for too long. And today was no different. A little dodge 'em here and there and soon, Charlie Eppes had a clear view of the part of the bull-pen normally occupied by Special Agent Eppes and his team of three.
Megan, David and Colby were nowhere to be seen but Charlie had no trouble spotting his brother sitting in his chair, feet propped up against the desk and his right hand supporting his head as he leaned back. Altogether, not an unfamiliar pose, but what ignited Charlie's curiosity was the flash of colour he could see between his brother's fingers. Coming closer, Charlie noted that the colour could be attributed to an ice pack being pressed against the back of Don's head, and not, as he had unrealistically hoped, to a spur-of-the-moment dye job, as improbable it might have been.
What he thought to be quite a stealthy creep-up on his brother, if he did say so himself, proved to be futile as five steps away, Don pushed himself a bit to right, feet still on the desk, to turn and look at his brother.
Drat, thought Charlie.
"Hey," greeted Don, his hand still pressing the cold compress to his head but over-active imagination or not, Charlie was certain that his brother was trying to bring all the stray edges of the compress under his fingers to disguise it from view.
"What's wrong with your head?" he asked, doing away with all pleasantries.
"Wouldn't it be easier asking what's right with it?" retorted Don, with only the slightest touch of humour as a smirk graced his features.
Years of living with their father paid off in the sense that it only took one raised eyebrow reminiscent of one Alan Eppes for Don to speak further:
"It's nothing, bro, trust me."
Charlie saw Don's stubbornness, and raised him another eyebrow:
"We found Garretty," said Don in response.
Charlie, having no more eyebrows to direct towards the heavens, had to settle for a verbal push:
"And?"
"He ran. We followed. He cold cocked me with his gun. David took him down with a flying leap which would put Superman to shame. And as a finale, Garretty shot himself. Satisfied?" asked Don, lifting his own eyebrow as a challenge. No Eppes facedown was complete without it.
"Not entirely," replied Charlie, and moved forward, his attempts to check the damage to his brother's head himself thwarted by Don smacking away his prying hands. In the midst of this face-off, David and Colby entered the bull-pen.
"Eh… are we interrupting something?" queried Colby.
Satisfied that he had besieged his brother down to a glare, Don turned to his team-mates and said:
"Only a losing battle on Charlie's part."
Deciding that letting his brother think he had won for the moment was the best strategy at the moment, Charlie settled for perching on the edge of his brother's desk.
"How's the head?" asked David, nodding towards Don.
"Ahh, it's fine," replied Don, shrugging off the concern, "doesn't hold a light to when I was hit with a lamp."
"Well, at least I know what to get you for your next birthday," mused Charlie.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" asked Don, curious.
"A helmet," dead-panned Charlie.
"Funny, bro, real funny."
"I thought so," retorted Charlie with a smile.
"And hey, I know what to get David," piped up Colby suddenly.
"A mint condition copy of UltraWorld #1?" suggested David.
"Nah man, a shiny red cape. I'll be nice and skip the pants," replied Colby.
As David shook his head and Charlie laughed, Don voiced his agreement by adding: "That's not a bad idea, Colby, he's 2 for 2 in the saving the Brothers Eppes department with tackles anyway."
"Hey, you saved my ass the first time I worked with you. Figured it was the least I could do, especially since Garretty was threatening you with a gun to misdirect us and you wouldn't," said David.
"Yeah, well, I like to impress the newbie's on their first day. It's all downhill from there," said Don to Colby and David's retreating backs as they went towards the break room to grab a cup of coffee. Don, having closed his eyes against the look of slight accusation Charlie had shot him at leaving out such a vital bit of information. He also missed the look of concern that crossed his brother's features at his half-jokingly said words.
"So, how much do I have to pay you to keep this from Dad?" asked Don suddenly.
Charlie considered this: "Well, I no longer remain Dad's only channel of information. Megan might tell Larry who might mention it to Dad… You'll have to grease a lot of palms."
Don sighed dramatically. "Well, here's hoping karma comes into play and nobody mentions anything to anybody."
"Or, as Seth Marlow would put it, Vitamin K," replied Charlie,
"Yeah, about that, any luck on proving your hunch?"
"Firstly, luck has nothing to do with it. And secondly, not yet. But I will." And he would. Especially since he now had motivation in the shape of catching a man whose accomplice had not only killed a man, but had almost killed his brother.
Recognizing the tone that meant that his brother was wandering off somewhere in his mind, Don brought Charlie back to the here and now and with a well-placed booted poke to the side.
"Hey!" protested Charlie, slipping off the desk to escape the renegade foot. "No need to damage the younger brother."
"Really? It's fun, though…" smiled Don.
"The more damage you do the slimmer odds you have of a rib-eye dinner. If you're well enough to poke me, you're well enough to not go through the extra trouble to break out the grill for."
"How about a funny story to better my odds?" suggested Don.
"Maybe….," said Charlie. "What have you got?"
"SuperDavid being beaten up by an old grandma with a cane minutes before he comes to my rescue sound good to you?"
Khatum (The End)
I don't I've ever laughed as much during a Numb3rs episode before this one, esp the scene with the grandpa in a wheelchair and gramdma with a walker trying to out run the camouflage guys. Oh, and naked car-jacker being beat up :-) Ok, I'll stop now.
On a last note, I'll be more MIA than usual for about a fortnight. The Uni. of Cambridge has called me for an interview so I have to prepare for that, and travel there and so forth. Until then, night night.