Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs. The writers/owners/producers do not live in North Carolina.
Author's Note: Written for the 2008 Summer Alphabet Challenge at Numb3rs dot org. Third letter in my full cycle of 26.
Slight spoilers for 4.14 "Checkmate".
The black and white pen scratched across the legal pad. It was a cheap pen, the kind that could be bought at the local Staples in a pack of ten for about two dollars, and every now and then her fingers would have to press harder to make the ink flow darker.
She paused in her writing, a sudden thought coming to her in the dimly lit corner of her favorite café. Pursing her lips, she quickly jotted down a note in the margin to look up a case precedent from a few years back; she'd find it later on the online database when she got home.
Robin Brooks, assistant attorney for the U.S. branch in Los Angeles, shifted in her customary leather seat, letting the cushy material contort to her body.
Angela's Café was, as the name suggested, a café. And, of course, it was owned by a woman named Angela. Robin had discovered it almost a year ago on her way home one day and after a quick reflection on her current case, had decided to stop in for some coffee. After all, if she was going to stay up all night wading through affidavits with her trusty highlighter, she might as well make sure she could drive herself home without falling asleep behind the wheel.
But she had fallen in love with the place and found herself the following week in a comfortable leather chair with a legal pad and case documents strewn in front of her. Much like how she looked at the moment.
The coffee wasn't terrible and the food was better than most places she could have gone to. Angela herself was a nice lady who knew Robin's order by heart and always had a story to tell her. Angela's Café had become a regular haunt for Robin.
Another sudden thought came to her and Robin leaned forward to grab at a stack of loosely bunched together papers. She rifled through the documents until she found the one she wanted, snagging it out with two fingers. Her eyes hunted down the paper.
'…No…I don't want the tax reports…No…Yes. Bingo. There it is.' Her inner id mused.
Balancing the paper she wanted on one knee and the legal pad on the other, Robin resumed her cross-examination notes. Tomorrow's cross on the defense would be crucial to the jury's interpretation of Robin's side of the Haskins case. That being said, she really needed to get her notes together.
'Haskins, a week before, had purchased the murder weapon from a consignment shop…'
Suddenly her thought process was derailed as a large thump shook the leather chair and sent her papers scattering. Robin bit back a curse and settled for a sigh.
"Oh. Oh! I'm so sorry."
Robin looked up at the sound of the voice, discovering what the "large thump" had been. A young woman, a college student probably, stared down at her. She chewed on her bottom lip and her body was twisted at an odd angle, as if she was stuck between hurrying on with her tray – the maroon apron indicating she worked at the café – and bending down to help pick up the papers she had just knocked over.
Shaking her head, Robin said, "No. Don't worry about it. It's really no big deal. I've got it."
The college student, identified as Serena by the white nametag, placed the hand not holding the circular tray over her chest; probably relieved that Robin wasn't angry. "I really am sorry. It's my first week and Angela's not here, on vacation, and I'm trying so hard to not mess up. I really need this job. Tuition isn't cheap and my apartment rent is due at the end of the month… And you really don't care about this at all," Serena broke off and glanced down at the coffee table in front of Robin's chair. "Oh. You don't have anything to drink. I'll be right back in a minute to take your order."
And then Serena was gone, running off and bumping into other café customers and furniture. Robin shook her head in amusement and began the task of picking up her now out of order papers. If Angela was here then Robin wouldn't have to give her order to anyone.
Once she'd readjusted herself, Robin tried to return to her cross-examination. However, she found it impossible to focus. The music filtering around the café from the ceiling speakers and the previously blocked out conversations of the nearby patrons invaded her mind.
Giving up, the white and black plastic pen was tossed down onto the legal pad. Robin gazed at the other people around her. Her eyes flitted over one man and then came back to settle on the book he was reading.
She titled her head and read the title. The middle aged man held a book on Greek mythology in one hand, the base propped up on his left thigh. The title wasn't what had caught her interest. It was the picture on the front cover that had caused her gaze to come back.
The Greek maiden wore a stole of royal blue that matched the color of her eyes. Her brown hair tumbled down her back and her lips were stained a dark red that highlighted her youth.
Robin frowned, trying to match a name with the picture. In her college years, she'd taken a class on Greek and Roman mythology as an elective.
The owner of the book shifted and the new position gave her a better view of the cover and the Greek maiden. Her eyes latched onto the object painted in the woman's hands. More specifically, the fruit that was painted in her hands.
'Persephone.' Robin thought with satisfaction for finally matching the name with the face. 'Daughter of Demeter and Queen of the Underworld.'
Greek mythology stated that Persephone had been kidnapped by the Greek God Hades and taken away to his realm. While she resided in the presence of the God of the Underworld, the Earth above had come to stop in terms of life and growth.
After being ordered to return the maiden, Hades had tricked Persephone into eating the seeds from the fruit of a pomegranate; though there were some stories that said she had eaten them willingly.
Thus, Persephone had been bound to return to her lover's abode below the Earth for four months every year. And while she was with Hades, the Earth came to a standstill again.
The Greeks liked to use the story of Persephone to explain the origin of the seasons. While Persephone resided above ground, with her mother and away from her lover, the Earth grew, green and beautiful. But when she returned to the awaiting arms of Hades, winter descended and turned everything barren.
Done with thinking about long ago stories of a long ago culture, Robin shook her head and ran a hand over her head. Her fingers followed the slope of her pony-tail and froze when they touched a familiar object: the hair clip, sans tracking device, that Don had given her three days ago.
That forced a whole new slew of thoughts to take over. She'd suddenly found herself working on the same case with him about a week ago. Buried deep emotions had resurfaced: anger, fear, love.
After Don had saved her life, Robin had found herself right back in his arms as if the months apart had been nothing and as if she had never left him in the first place; because she had been the one afraid, the one who had ran away.
Her eyes were drawn back to the portrait of Persephone and a strange idea formulated into her mind.
'Perhaps…Perhaps she wasn't so different from Persephone.' She mused.
Not in the sense that she was a Greek maiden or that she had the power to change the Earth. 'The power to send your ass to serve twenty five to life, yes. The power to cause winter to change to spring, no.'
Also, not in the sense that Don was the ruler of the Underworld.
A smile came over Robin's face as she tried to picture Don in Greek garb. The only thing that she could think of was the cartoon movie, Hercules, that she had watched with her nephew years ago. James Woods' voice and his blue fire for hair made her want to laugh.
But maybe she was like Persephone in the sense of the shifting seasons. When she had been with Don, everything had been wonderful. Alive and full with laughter, companionship, and eventually love. It had been like spring.
However, when Robin had gone away, she being the one afraid of commitment, her world had been harsh and cold. She'd tried to tell herself that she would get over him and that things would get better. But they hadn't. It had been winter.
'Okay, so she was a backwards Persephone. When she was with her lover it was spring instead of winter.'
Robin picked up her cheap plastic pen and tapped it against her thigh. After saving her life, Don and she had spent the following morning in the hotel, making good use of the FBI's dime. Not that it hadn't been a wonderful experience, but she had found herself worrying over what was "them" the next day.
Laughing, Robin suddenly had her answer. She had been over thinking it. Her. Don. "Them." Everything. She'd been over thinking it all.
"Alright. Sorry about the wait. What can I get you?"
Serena was back and Robin looked up at her waiting expression. She noticed that the pen she had poised over her order pad was nicer than Robin's Staple bought one. With bobbed red hair, bright blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles, Serena was a pretty girl and after getting over her clumsiness, she would probably do fine for Angela.
Robin glanced over for the last time at the picture of the mythology book, focusing on the orangey colored object in her pale hands. Giving Serena a half-smile, Robin humorously said, "Pomegranate tea sounds nice."
With a strange look, the younger woman shrugged her shoulders and jotted down Robin's order. Over her back, she hollered, "Be back with it in a minute."
Robin settled back in the comforting leather, moving around until her body molded to its shape again. Her half-smile remained on her face as she flipped open her cell-phone.
The tea wasn't pomegranate seeds but she liked the symbollism nonetheless.
Don's number was highlighted in her contact list and Robin pressed down on the 'send' button.
'It was time for her winter to come to an end.'
The End
Comments and feedback are always appreciated.