Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs or the characters. No copyright infringement is intended.
Edit: Story edited to update A/N in chapter 1 and fix a typo in chapter 2.
A/N: The fact that I now have two stories going at the same time is no one's fault but my own. I will learn to be more patient. I will learn to be more patient. I will – oh, forget it! Bear with me and I will finish both stories. I promise!
Chapter 1
As they stepped outside the Pantry, a downtown restaurant known for serving huge portions of comfort food around the clock, Don stretched out his arms wide and took a deep breath of the crisp night air. "Thanks, buddy. I needed that."
Charlie grinned and waved off the gratitude happily. "Any time."
As David added, "Yeah, thanks. This was a great idea," and patted his back in appreciation, Charlie couldn't help thinking they were acting as if he'd taken them on a two-week vacation instead of a brief excursion only a few blocks away from the office. Of course, considering the kind of hours they'd been putting in over the last few days, an hour outside of the office probably felt like the height of luxury to them.
Don and his team were investigating the high-profile murder of a federal employee. She'd worked in the public relations department of the FBI and her death didn't seem related to any cases; but the FBI took her death very personally and the brutality of her murder had captured the public's attention. Don had shown him some preliminary information, but Charlie had concluded the case would not benefit from mathematical analysis – at least not yet. Charlie had promised to look at it again once the case was a little more developed and they had more data.
For now, the best way he could help was by dragging Don away from his desk before he forgot what it felt like to go outside. David, the only other member of the team still at the office when Charlie stopped by, was invited along.
The relaxed mood of the moment was spoiled by a reporter who'd apparently recognized Don as the lead agent on the case and been waiting around outside for a chance to corner him. Rushing forward, he called out eagerly, "Agent Eppes! Is it true the killer cut out the tongue of his victim, Michelle Gutierrez?"
Don replied coolly, "Federal agents can't comment on open investigations. If you're looking to frighten your viewers, you'll have to do it without our help."
With that, he brushed past the reporter and his camera crew and continued walking toward the SUV. David quickly fell into step beside him and Charlie hurried to catch up. The agents didn't look back once, but Charlie couldn't help glancing back behind him to watch the TV crew packing up and climbing back into their van.
Don and David were already settled in their seats by the time Charlie opened the door and climbed into the backseat. Don sat in the driver's seat silently fuming. As soon as the news van pulled away from the curb, Don slammed his fist against the steering wheel in frustration. "Damn! How are they getting this stuff? That's the third piece of intel in as many days. I swear – if I find out who the leak is, they're gone."
Horrified, Charlie leaned forward and asked, "You mean it's true? About her… tongue?"
Don looked up at the rearview mirror and froze as if just discovering Charlie was in the backseat. Nearby streetlamps cast enough light for him to see Don's eyes in the mirror and Charlie squirmed under his brother's intense gaze. He wasn't sure what he'd done and he suddenly couldn't find the nerve to ask.
When Don finally spoke, he didn't sound angry. In fact, he sounded almost heartbroken as he quietly said, "This is my fault."
"What?" David scoffed. "How?"
"I've gotten too loose. I used to keep everybody out. Then I let Charlie in. Now I let Charlie, Amita, Larry, my Dad…" Don trailed off and shook his head. "I let so many people in they could have their own parade."
David asked incredulously, "You don't think one of them is the leak? Do you?"
"No," Don replied firmly. His eyes shifted back to the mirror and it was clear he was talking to Charlie, as he said, "No. They're not the problem. I know that. But I set the standard. When I get loose, everybody else does too. They go home and talk to their wives, husbands, girlfriends, and… and who knows who else. And somewhere in all of that we have a leak."
Don dropped his gaze to stare out the windshield as he said, "It has to stop. Now. How many active cases is Charlie on right now?"
Charlie instantly felt the distance Don was deliberately creating as he looked straight ahead and talked about him as if Charlie wasn't right behind him.
David glanced back at Charlie before answering, "Um… two. The Palmer case and the bank fraud thing."
Don nodded tightly and said, "Cut him loose."
"Guys," Charlie tried to interrupt, but the conversation continued on without him.
"What?" David protested. "You can't be serious. Do you know what's involved…"
Don cut him off. "We have our own accountants. We don't need an outside consultant."
David shook his head. "Come on, man. Without Charlie it'll take weeks…"
Don turned to pin David with a cold stare. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I ask you to do your own work?"
David froze in shock at the unexpected reprimand. After a moment, he turned away to look out the window and grumbled, "Fine. Whatever."
Don glanced back into the mirror again and Charlie realized he couldn't identify the expression in his eyes. His brother's gaze was too guarded. Before he could say anything, Don broke off the stare and started up the car.
Charlie wasn't sure what to say, but he knew he had to try. "Don…"
Don shook his head as he pulled out into traffic. "It's done."
