A/N: This story begins about a month after the closing of Not So Far. It is a continuation, of sorts, but I'm pretty sure it'll stand alone. However, obviously, if you've read NSF, you'll know that Don and Terry are back together, as well as Charlie and Amita, whom I'll try to do a bit better keeping up with this story, though they won't make an appearance at all this chapter. Just too much info to cram into one short chapter:D Also, for a full explanation of Kylie Jackson (who is half-owned by my friend Tabitha, as always), see NSF. Okay, now that that is over…
Disclaimer: And here we go again. Numb3rs, it's characters, it's plots, or anything related to it does not belong to me. Though it creates a HECK of an inspiration for all of us fanfic-writers, does it not?
Love Me, Love Me Not
Chapter one: Chocolate
Agent Terry Lake sighed as she heard another peal of thunder break through the hazy morning. Was it ever going to rain, or was it simply going to threaten for another few days? She heard the familiar ding of the elevator doors and waited for them to slide open.
"Morning, Terry." Don greeted her with a polite nod, which she returned with the barest hint of a secretive smile. He gave her a sly wink as he turned to engage her in meaningless morning conversation about the weather.
Once they arrived on their floor, he escorted her out, looking just as comfortable and nonphysical as he had months ago…before Pittsburgh, before they became more than "just friends". Terry smiled her thanks and moved to drop her purse onto her desk, knocking something else off as she did so, which fell between her desk and the wall. Curious, she pulled the desk away and peered between it and the wall. Something red and shiny winked back at her.
She drew it out, examining it with shocked dark eyes…a box of chocolate? Intrigued, she read the note that had been scotch-taped to the box,
To my love:
I've known you for what seems like forever, though you don't notice me. You are such an amazing person, with your bright eyes and your ready smile. I've seen you with your new boyfriend--you are dating, are you not? You and that handsome young agent from work? Don't see him anymore. He thinks you belong to him. I can't allow that.
He is not good enough for you, Terry. No one is good enough for you, save me. We were meant for each other. You will see that, but I have to give you time.
I hope you will accept this meaningless but hopeful token of my devotion to you. I only trust that you will accept it for what it is--a gift from a man to the woman he loves.
Terry dropped the box onto her desk with shaking hands. "Don?"
Before the word had even left her mouth, he was at her side, catching her arm, concern flashing in his dark eyes. "What? What is it?"
Wordlessly, she handed him the box. His hand tightened about her arm possessively as he read, and she was glad for his steady touch. Her own stalker. Just what she needed. This week just kept getting better and better.
Suddenly, the impending storm broke with a fury, a loud rumble of thunder shaking the floor beneath her feet and making her jump. The lights flickered and went out for a moment, then blinked back on. Terry felt her cheeks flame. She hadn't jumped at thunder since she was about twelve years old. The chocolates must really have thrown her. Correction--the note must really have thrown her.
Don studied her quietly, his dark eyes concerned. "I'm taking this with me. See if I can't get anything off of it."
"Don, I don't think--"
"Terry." He interrupted her firmly.
She sighed and rolled her eyes, blowing a stray strand of hair off her forehead. She would never admit it, but she really was touched by the gesture. "Fine." She mock-huffed. Then she dropped the demeanor and gave him an honest, nervous smile. "Thanks, Don. I appreciate it."
"As well you should." He nodded, returning her uncertain smile with a comfortable and confident one. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you. Don't worry about it. "
"Thanks."
And she tried not to. All that day, she forced her mind to stay on its work. By the time she left the Federal building, she was actually in a pretty good mood. She darted through the rain, slid behind the wheel of her glistening black Hummer, and used the rearview mirror to try to finger-comb her windblown hair back into place. Using her thumb, she wiped away a few smudges of eyeliner and blinked away the moisture beaded on her eyelashes onto a tissue, ensuring that she wouldn't have runny mascara beneath her eyes. Then she turned on the car and headed for the grocery store, singing merrily with the radio as she drove.
Terry tried to balance a paper bag of groceries on her left hip while fishing through her purse for her keys in the darkness of the front walkway of her apartment. The rain dripped wetly off the roof overhead, dampening the asphalt to release the heat it had soaked up all day in curls of warm steam.
I have got to remember to leave the porch light on. She mused, finally closing her hand around the cool metal of the keys in her purse and digging them out. She flipped through the ring, finally finding and fitting the correct key into the lock and practically falling through the door. As she struggled to find the light switch, her phone began to shrill from the island in her kitchen. Cursing silently under her breath, she found the light and flipped it on, then scampered to the kitchen to drop her purse, keys, and groceries on the counter before fumbling with the phone.
"Hello?" It hadn't occurred to her before the phone reached her ear…who would be calling her home phone? Everyone she knew used her cell. Then something else came to mind…whoever was on the other end of the line wasn't talking. Terry could hear heavy breathing, as though the caller had been running, but no effort was made to speak.
"Hello? Who's there?"
Click. The phone went dead. The blonde agent pulled it away from her ear and gazed at it in confusion for several moments before slowly replacing it in the cradle. Now somewhat creeped out, Terry tried to shrug off the feeling and opened her fridge, dropping the half-gallon of milk and bag of baby carrots on the shelf. Probably a wrong number, she tried to reassure herself. It had nothing to do with that stupid candy.
Just as the freaked-out feeling began to seep from her body, the doorbell rang….then rang again, insistently. With a sigh, she called, "Coming, coming!" And picked her way quickly between the furniture to the front door. Leaving the chain hooked in place, she opened the door a crack…
And something fell through. Something large, red, and heart-shaped.
Fighting back the terror that rose in her throat, Terry only just remembered the lecture on stalking she'd attended the spring before. Shaking the sleeve of her blouse down over her hand to avoid leaving any of her own prints on the box, she carefully picked up the package and slowly withdrew into her apartment, making sure that anyone who might be watching saw her movements. Once safely inside, she locked the door handle and the deadbolt, making sure that the chain was securely in place before depositing the newest "gift" on her coffee table.
She stood looking at it for several moments, trying to decide what to do next. After checking to make sure the curtains were securely closed over her windows, she dialed Don's cell phone with a slightly-shaking finger.
After waiting for several rings, she reached his voicemail, "Hello, this is Agent Don Eppes…I can't answer my phone right now, but if you'll leave your name and number, I'll get back to you within the hour. Thanks."
Deciding that this was important enough to interrupt whatever Don might be working on, Terry left a quick, "It's me and it's important, call me back as soon as you get this" message on his voicemail before hanging up and punching in the numbers for his pager. After leaving her callback number, she collapsed on the couch to wait, turning on the television to break the freakish silence that had befallen the apartment. Funny, quiet had never made her this nervous before…
She jumped as her island phone rang again. Turning the volume on the television up to avoid answering it, she heard the machine pick up, the quick message play, "Hello, you've reached the home of Terry Lake. If you'd really like to get in touch with me, try my cell phone, or if you'd like, you can leave a message and I'll call back soon. Thanks, bye!", and then…
Nothing. That same unnatural heavy breathing, the sound of someone licking their lips, and then…a voice, cold and chilling, like nothing she'd ever heard before. "Hello, Terry. I know you're home. Pick up the phone, Terry." A pause, during which she tried to hold back a bloodcurdling scream, "Terry…" His voice was sing-song, almost childish. "Did you like my presents? I know your boyfriend took the one I left for you at work. So I got you a new one…"
Finally, it stopped, leaving her curled into a corner of the couch with a pillow clutched to her chest, relieved that it was finally over. When the silence, broken only by the mindless laughter of the sitcom on the television set in front of her, settled around her once more, she began to breathe again.
However, when the phone rang again, she nearly screamed--not with terror, but with frustration. Her attitude changed from horror-stricken to furious in the time it took for the phone to ring once. What was with this guy?
She stormed over to the phone and lifted it from the cradle. "Alright, that is it! You listen and you listen good, you creepy little--"
"Terry?" This voice was familiar and all-too-welcome.
"Don?" She could have cried with relief. "Why aren't you calling my cell?"
"Because this is the callback you left on my pager." …Oh. In her fear, she must have automatically dialed the number at the front of her mind…her home phone number rather than the one for her cell. "What's wrong, Terry?"
"Don, he called my house! And then he knocked on the door and when I opened it there was another box of chocolate on the doormat and then he called again and I--" She rambled, desperate to make him understand her plight. Normally, she was the most level-headed person she knew. But this…this was just over the top. She was terrified, and she was not afraid to admit it.
"Slow down, Terry. I'm on my way over there. Give me ten minutes, okay?"
"Okay." She hated her voice for sounding so panicky.
"Good. I'm on my way. Keep the door locked, don't answer the phone again."
"Trust me, that won't be an issue." She promised.
"Good girl. I have to go, the phone is dying…I'm so sorry. I love you, Terry. Hold on."
"It's okay, I understand; and I will…love you, too."
With that, he grudgingly closed his phone. He hated himself for having to hang up on her, but already his phone was giving him the familiar beep-beep of a dying battery. He was only glad that she had thought to call his pager, since he'd turned the phone off to save battery power hours ago. Why hadn't he charged it last night? After mentally giving himself several kicks, he pressed a little bit harder on the gas pedal, his wipers going into overtime as they tried to slap the late-August rain away from his windshield. I'm coming, Terry. He promised her.
Terry hung up as well, then proceeded to pace across the kitchen, the cordless in her hand and her arms wrapped around her stomach. Her free hand wandered to her face, where she proceeded to bite the nail of whichever finger reached her lips first.
For the second time that night, she jumped as the phone in her hand rang. She dropped it to the counter and backed away warily, as though it might explode. One, two, three, four…
Just as the machine picked up, the caller hung up, cutting her recorded greeting short. A moment later, the phone began to ring again. One…two…three…four…
Again and again it happened, while she tried to decide whether or not to follow Don's instructions. "Don't answer the phone." His voice echoed in her mind. "Don't answer the phone."
Her temper snapped. The nerves that had been on edge all day finally gave way. Terry picked up the phone and hurled it across the room with all the strength she possessed, watching it shatter against the wall. The pieces fell to the carpet in a destructive rain.
She watched it break, then resumed her pacing. Step, step, step, turn. Step, step, step, turn. Suddenly, she paused, something penetrating her haze of thoughts. Was that another sound…other footsteps? Pacing outside her apartment, back and forth between her corner apartment and the one on the other side of her? She stood stone-still in the middle of the kitchen, her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, carefully, Terry made her way to the windows of her living room, where she lifted the edge of one of the curtains. Outside, however, she saw nothing. Her nerves really were shot.
Sighing heavily, she collapsed into the chair by the door, shaking all over. She felt as though her body had been put through a wringer and left out to dry. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, staring blankly at the wall across from her. Don's coming, Don's coming, Don's coming… She thought frantically.
A steady knock came at her door. Breathing a silent prayer, she went to open it, wishing again that she had thought to get an apartment with a peephole in the door. She unlatched the locks, once more leaving the chain in place, and opened the door a slight crack. The air left her lungs in a relieved sigh. "Don!"
She closed the door, threw off the chain, and flung it wide, nearly collapsing in her rescuer's arms. He held tightly and pulled her back into the apartment. After closing and carefully locking the door, he led her gently to the couch, where he settled beside her and cradled her gently in his arms.
"What happened, Terry?"
She told him, a rush of an explanation flowing from her in a long rant. When she had talked herself out, reliving her last terrified hour, she curled tighter against him. "What am I going to do?"
"For tonight, you're going to sleep. I'm going to stay right here with you, and you are going to go to bed and get some rest."
She snorted. "Yeah, right. Sleep. Doubt that, after the day I've had."
"You're going to try." He said firmly, tightening his arms around her. She relaxed, for the first time in hours, against him, content for the moment to be safe. And, despite her adamant declaration, she felt herself drifting to sleep in Don's arms. Just before she nodded off, she felt him shaking her ever so slightly, "Terry?"
"Mmm?"
"Can I borrow your phone charger?"
-------------------
There you have it. No cliffy this time, though I promise you they will come. This, too, I'm planning on being between five and ten chapters, depending on how I want to drag it out and where it decides it would like to go. I let my stories run my life, which is why I definitely don't have a 4.0 GPA.
I'm planning on updating this at the end of this month, one more time, and then there'll be a one-month-long hiatus so I can work on my NaNoWriMo novel. Wish me luck, maybe I'll actually win this year!
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Review replies, after this, will be answered on my LiveJournal… www. livejournal. com / users / silaninque
Minus the spaces, of course. All reviews left here will be answered individually there…since I just learned last week that we're not really supposed to do individual replies here.
So…final review replies for up: Roses
A quick preview for you all:
It had been a quiet two weeks. Since that first terrifying night, there had been nothing. No note, no gift, no phone calls, no nothing. She was surprised, but grateful. Maybe he'd moved on.
At least, that was what she'd hoped until the afternoon she got home and opened her door to find the inside of her apartment filled with dozens and dozens of blood-red roses. She smiled, thinking that Don had really gone out of his way this time. A videotape with her name written on the label rested on top of the television, and she beamed as she pushed it into the VCR and pushed the 'play' button. The screen went black and a voice began to speak.
"Hello, beautiful."
She gasped, terror-stricken. That wasn't Don's voice. Horrified, she sat frozen on the couch, watching the blank screen and listening to the message,
"Did you think I'd forget about you? You know how I feel about you. Love like this comes only once in a lifetime.
I thought I told you to stop seeing Agent Eppes. You need to learn to listen to me, Terry. I'm afraid I'm going to have to teach you a lesson. It's not going to be pretty…but you'll thank me in the end. I'm doing the right thing.
Don't these roses smell pretty? Enjoy it while it lasts. Nothing lasts forever, remember.
Goodbye for now, my love. See you soon."
With a strangled cry, she ran for her purse and furiously punched the speed-dial for Don's cell phone. "Pick up, pick up, pick up…" She begged silently, waiting…
Now, see, that was a cliffhanger. Don't worry, you won't have to wait quite so long this time for an update. One more, and I promise not to leave that on a total cliffhanger, and then I go on writer-vacation (at least fanfic writing) for a month to participate in NaNoWriMo. Check out my bio if you want to know what that's all about.
Guess that's it for me.
Love to all,
Sila