I would like to thank Jels for betaing. It was a big help.

All comments, questions, job offers, chocolate, etc... can be sent to: With the exception of the characters Marcus Allen, David Thompson, Carl O'Donell, Tom Wagner, Peggy Wagner and Maggie Wagner, I do not own any of the characters from Numb3rs. They belong to Cheryl Hutton and Nicolas Falucci, Scott-Free Productions, Paramount Pictures and CBS Television. I promise to put them all back when I'm done playing with them (including Larry, Jels). Please don't sue me, I'm poor.

Reality TV vs. Don Eppes

A Numb3rs Story

By Amy M. Denton

The blaring alarm pierced the late afternoon and completely ruined the last five minutes of the hockey game that F.B.I. Special Agent Don Eppes had been waiting all week to see. He sighed, heaved himself to his feet and went out the door, gun in hand.

His brother, Charlie, appeared from his hidey hole in the garage just in time to see the front door click shut. Alan, Don and Charlie's father was on the phone calling the police. And over everything was the blaring alarm, only slightly muffled by house's four walls.

"What's going on?" Charlie asked his father.

"The Wagner's burglar alarm just went off." Alan replied, hanging up the phone.

"It's the middle of the day. What idiot robs a house in broad daylight?" Charlie demanded.

Alan shrugged and said "Criminals are not that intelligent. That's why they get caught."

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Don's heart was pounding in his ears so loudly that it almost drowned out the shrieking alarm. It had been purely by chance that he had been at his brother's house. If he hadn't come over to watch the game his father had taped, he probably would have been back at his apartment, most likely asleep. Yet, there he was, skulking across the neighbor's lawns and why? It was probably some animal that had set the alarm off.

Gerald Nelson, Charlie's next door neighbor, appeared at his front door, concern on his face, for the alarm belonged to the people only two doors down from him and three doors down from Charlie. Don shook his head and waved him back inside. The last thing Don needed was civilians in the line of fire.

Two houses later, the sound of voices and a car engine starting reached his ears and slowed his steps. He came to a complete halt and peered around the corner of the house. A cherry red Corvette slipped past him, down the driveway and onto the street. He memorized the license plate number before turning his attention back to the house.

If the house was empty, he could get in, turn off the alarm before it deafened the whole neighborhood and assess the damage before the police arrived. If the house wasn't empty...well, things would get much more difficult if the house wasn't empty.

His quandary was solved when a tall, muscular man, dressed in a red t-shirt and dark shorts stepped from a side door into the driveway. He slung a bag over one shoulder and pulled a cap down low over his curly brown hair. He shut the door and headed down the drive, acting as if he had not a care in the world. He was close to the end of the drive when Don stepped out onto the drive and ordered the man to stop.

"Freeze! F.B.I.!"

The man froze.

"Put the bag down! Put your hands in the air and get on your knees!" Don told the man.

Across the street, the back doors of a white paneled van opened and a man, shorter than Don, with dark hair, came loping across the street.

"Officer!" he called out, "I can explain!"

Don trained the gun on the man. "Stop right there." To the man on the ground, he said "Cross your feet at the ankles, hands on top of your head, interlace your fingers."

Two women climbed from the van next but they were waved back into the van by the man Don had stopped in the street.

Don handcuffed the man, then came around to stand in front of him.

"Your name!" he asked, the shrill whine of the alarm fading into the background.

"Marcus Allen!" the man said.

"Officer!" The man in the street called to Don. "Please let me explain!"

"Don!" A familiar voice came up the driveway.

Still covering the man on the ground, Don cast a glance towards the end of the driveway and got quite a surprise. Peggy Wagner, the homeowner, was standing there with her daughter, Maggie, and her husband, Tom. The man Don had stopped in the street was standing next to Mrs. Wagner as well.

"Don!" Tom shouted at him. "Can I go inside and shut off the alarm?"

"Please!" Don shouted back.

Tom dashed into the house and a few moments later, blessed silence descended.

"We had no idea you'd be at your brothers." Tom said, coming out of the house. "If we had, we'd have told you."

"Told me what?" Don asked, holstering his gun. He was starting to get the feeling that things were not as they seemed.

"This is all for a show." Tom said. "He," pointing at Marcus "was supposed to break into our house to show how...inadequate our home security was." Tom next pointed to the man standing next to Peggy. "He's the host. And there's the producer." Tom pointed at a man who seemed to have simply materialized out of thin air. "No crime has been committed. All of this was suppose to happen."

"Can I get up now?" Marcus asked.

"Really, Don, we aren't lying." Peggy said. "We asked them to do this. Talk to the producer if you don't believe us."

Don frowned but helped Marcus to his feet and took the handcuffs off him. "My apologies."

"Nothing to apologize for." Marcus said, rubbing his wrists. "You were just doing your job. Marcus Allen, in case you didn't hear me before." He added, holding out his hand.

"Don Eppes." Don replied, shaking Marcus' hand. He looked over at Tom and said "Reality TV finally caught up to you, huh?"

Tom shrugged. "We get a complete security system at no cost."

"I told you my neighbor's brother was in the F.B.I." Maggie said to the host.

"And I told you that you shouldn't be solely relying on your neighbors to keep you safe. Aside from him, do you see anybody else out here?" The host said.

Don's scowl deepened. He hated being made a fool of. "Who are you again?"

"David Thompson, the host." The man said.

In the distance, sirens could be heard.

"Well, David, the police will be here shortly, I hope you can explain all of this to them." Don replied.

The producer came up to Don and held out his hand. "I'm Carl O'Donell. I'm the producer for 'What Do You Have To Lose?'."

Don did not shake the producer's hand. Instead, he fixed O'Donell with a glare. "Special Agent Don Eppes, F.B.I."

O'Donell swallowed and said "I do apologize for any problems we caused but we did notify the proper people. All of our paperwork is in order. You're welcome to come and see."

Don shook his head. If he had learned anything by growing up and, now, living a stone's throw from Hollywood, it was that Hollywood produced more paperwork than the entire Federal government and none of it made sense.

He looked at Marcus and David then looked at the Wagner's. He slowly shook his head and said "I'm glad you all realized that your home needed better security but a little warning would have been nice."

He turned to walk away.

"Um...Agent Eppes?" O'Donell asked.

"What?" Don was in little mood to be civil.

"Would you mind if we used the footage that you're in?"

Don sighed but shook his head. "No, I don't mind. Go right ahead."

"Wonderful. Can I get you to sign a release?"

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"Freeze! F.B.I.! Put the bag down! Put your hands up and get on your knees!" Don's voice came from the TV, sounding strange to his ears. He looked around at the assembled group with him before allowing himself a small smile. It was really kinda cool to see himself on television.

It was also something that he almost passed up. When the show he had inadvertedly intruded on, was about to air, Don had intended to let the show go by without watching. Unfortunately for him, Charlie was not so inclined. And Charlie was not about to pass up such a golden opportunity to needle his brother.

Don had no idea how Charlie had found out when the episode was going to air and, frankly, he didn't care. Charlie's mind worked in ways he had no way of understanding. He was actually kinda touched that his brother, with his father's help, had set up a viewing party and managed to keep it quiet.

He had been beyond surprised when he had come by Charlie's house for dinner only to find all the members of his team, Larry, Charlie's mentor and fellow professor, Amita, Charlie's protégé and his father waiting for him. The TV set was warmed up, the tape in the VCR and all that was missing, apparently, was him.

He swallowed the smile that threatened to take over his face but allowed himself to be guided to the position of honor, his father's favorite chair. Charlie looked at Don, smiled and pushed the 'Play' button.

And Don began to plot his revenge on his baby brother. 50 minutes later as the show began to wind down, he had a pretty good plan in place. He would just need a few minutes to put it into action. But he wouldn't act on his plan yet, he would wait and bind his time and get Charlie when he least expected it.

"While the appearance of Agent Eppes was a good thing, it also underscores an excellent point that was made to the homeowner and her family." David Thompson, the host was saying in the last few minutes of the program. "That point is the unpredictability of luck. It was sheer luck that the Wagner's remembered to set the alarm, that someone heard the alarm, came out to check and that that someone happened to be an F.B.I. agent."

The final scenes of the show with the homeowner and her family learning how to use all of the new security devices flashed across the screen.

"Don't leave you home's security to luck. You'll lose the gamble." David said.

"Please folks, it's the simple things that'll keep me out." Marcus, 'the burglar' said, joining David on screen. "Lock your doors and windows. All the security systems in the world are useless if you can't remember to lock the door."

"We would like to thank Agent Eppes for being such a good sport and not arresting both of us even after learning the truth." David said.

"Thanks for watching and we'll see you next time on 'What Do You Have To Lose?'." Marcus said.

The final credits rolled and a round of applause went up for Don.

"So, when's the movie coming out?" David Sinclair, one the men on Don's team, asked him.

"Yeah, who's gonna play you?" Colby Granger, another member of Don's team chimed in.

"I'm not at liberty to divulge that information." Don replied with a totally straight face.

Groans and rolled eyes were his response.

"On that strange note, I think I'll be going." Megan Reeves, the fourth member of Don's team said. "Some of us have to work tomorrow."

"Let me walk to you to your car." Larry said.

Slowly, the viewing party broke up and soon, it was just the three Eppes men.

"You wanna stay over?" Charlie asked.

"I have a perfectly good apartment." Don said. "I might want to use it once in a while."

"If you had been at your apartment instead of here, you wouldn't have been on TV." Charlie replied.

"He's got a point there, Donnie." Alan said, walking past the two on his way to the stairs. "I haven't been this interested in a tv show since J.R. Ewing was shot."

Charlie's brow wrinkled before asking "Who?"

Alan sighed, shook his head and went upstairs.

Charlie looked back at his brother. "What'd I say?"

Don swallowed a laugh. "Ask me later. I'm gonna go." He slipped on his jacket, waved good night to Charlie and went out to his SUV.

It was a good feeling to be loved and accepted. To know that people were happy to see him. He had missed that feeling of belonging when he'd been with the Fugitive Retrieval Team.

He put the key in the ignition and started the engine. That feeling was only one more reason that he had stayed in L.A. after his mother died, instead of moving on. He was home. He didn't need to go anywhere else.

But he wasn't about to tell anyone that.