What Happened the Next Night

Amita had always been quite persuasive. As a child, she had her parents wrapped around her little finger and to tell you the truth, she still did. She honestly didn't believe that she would be able to persuade Nikki and Don to admit their feelings for each other, which of course, she didn't. But, she was able to rope them into dinner at Charlie's, and she was happy with that.

Nikki arrived first, with a bottle of wine. Alan welcomed her, and led her outside to the table which Amita had set specially. One of the things she loved and simultaneously disliked about Charlie was his inability to notice when something is out of the ordinary. While this was most of the time frustrating, Amita was grateful that he didn't catch on to what she was trying to do. God knows she loved the man, but sometimes he did get in the way something awful.

"Nice night." Nikki commented, and threw a questionning glance at the empty chair next to her, but didn't say anything. "What are we having?"

"Rigatoni e Gorgonzola." Charlie said, carefully. "I made it myself." Nikki adopted an expression of mock apprehension, making Amita and Alan laugh. Charlie's face fell, so Amita chuckled and kissed him lightly.

"I'm sure that it's lovely." Nikki added, wrinkling her nose at Charlie. "I'm just messing with you."

"Suck-up!" Alan hissed, jokingly, as he poured the wine. "Donnie's late again." Nikki looked up sharply.

"Don's coming?" She asked, then narrowed her eyes and turned her head sideways to Amita, lips pursing. Amita stared at her plate, determined not to look at Nikki, who rolled her eyes in return. She knew exactly what was going on now; she wasn't an FBI agent for nothing. "Smooth, Amita." Amita gave her a sheepish smile, and they were interrupted by the entrance of Don, who wandered out of the house, forehead crinkled in confusion.

"Outside. What's the special occasion?" He asked his dad, plonking himself down on the spare seat next to Nikki. Alan shrugged.

"Don't really know. Amita just thought that it would be nice to have dinner under the stars." Alan frowned slightly, clearly thinking as he handed out the first course. Amita tried not to make eye contact as he realised exactly why she had requested dinner outside, instead changing the subject.

"Everyone enjoy the pasta, Charlie won't admit it, but he put a lot of effort into it." The Eppes and Betancourt smiled fondly. "I came into the kitchen and there was pasta all over the floor!" She added, and they all laughed, except for Alan.

"I suppose I'll have to clean it up then." He mumbled, mocking bad temper, and began to eat the pasta.

"It's good though. I like it."

"For once."

"Watch it Donald."

"Sorry Chuck." Charlie glared at his big brother, who tried not to laugh because he'd just taken a mouthful of pasta. "Good wine." He cocked his head to look at the bottle, and Amita didn't miss the long stare which Nikki gave him. Evaluating and appreciating him. This was what makes a pregnant woman smile.

"So tell me Nikki." Amita began, choosing her words carefully. "Anyone special for you?" Nikki glared at her, fully aware that she has to be careful with her answer. Lest Amita jumps on her words and choke her with them.

"Amita wants to plan another wedding." Charlie explained, and Alan smiled knowingly.

"No need: I'm not having a wedding anytime soon. Concentrate on Liz, she's the one in a relationship." Nikki deflected, without batting an eyelid, though also without making eye contact. If Amita had looked back to her plate a few seconds later, she would have missed the glance Nikki shot at her partner. He was mysteriously quiet, which made his sister-in-law wonder about what that look really meant to him.

The rigatoni e gorgonzola was good. It tasted just as it should have, had it been in a restaurant. Surprisingly enough. Amita hurried to pour Don, Nikki another glass of wine, just to make them merry, and gather up the plates, asking the help of Charlie as she did so. Alan, having understood the meaning of the FBI agents' third glasses of wine, offered to help her tidy up. Amita watched from a crack in the curtains as they left the two partners alone underneath the clear sky.

She saw them talk, for a while, and heard Alan enter the room behind her. She immediately shushed him, and he smiled.

"Why wasn't I apprised of this?"

"Because you'd tell Charlie, that's why." Amita shot back, bluntly, and Alan shrugged. He probably would have, as well.

"How long?" The retired city planner found another crack in the curtains, and watched the two dark figures on the lawn. They were talking, though about what, neither him nor Amita were sure.

"Not long. But don't you think it would be nice?" Amita chirped, hands once more settled on her belly.

"I never really thought about Nikki. I suppose since I'd given up on grandchildren from Donnie." Alan nudged Amita's shoulder, tenderly. "I'm already getting them from you." She grinned, and they once more turned their attention to the agents on the lawn. Neither Eppes' expression could be priced.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"Don't waste any time, do they?" Amita blinked, and jumped up and down a couple of times in joy, as Don and Nikki pulled apart. "It worked though! I'm a genius!" She grabbed Alan's arm, positively beaming. "Tell me I'm a genius!" Alan laughed, looking surprised, amused and proud all at the same time.

"You're a genius, Amita." He chuckled. "I seriously didn't see this." Amita giggled, and skipped through to the kitchen.

"Dessert!"

The agents were unsurprised to see Alan's apple pie - it was a dish which was well recognised to all who knew the Eppes well. Or anyone who knew the Eppes at all, for that matter. They were, however, taken aback at how happy Amita seemed, as she noted their clasped hands, just below the top of the table but immediately noticeable. Charlie was much less subtle about it all.

"Why are you holding hands?" He asked, as though there would be a rational explanation to everything. Don laughed and shook his head, rubbing Nikki's palm with his thumb.

"Guess, Chuck." A smirk tugged at Don's lips, and Charlie's eyebrows shot up but for once, he said nothing. Amita produced Nikki's plate of apple pie, throwing her a smug and triumphant look, which made the tough ex-cop roll her eyes, even though she wanted to grin back. "Mm. Pie." Nikki rolled her eyes, and they shared a long look.

"So Don." Began Alan. "How's work?"

"It's... um work." Don shrugged. "There's nothing special about it. It's just work."

"What about you, Charlie, how's the Cognitive Emergence theory coming along?" Charlie took a deep breath and launched into an overcomplex way of saying that he was doing well. Nikki and Don leaned back in their chairs, watching him with amusement, and letting their hands brush as they dangled off the side of their deck chairs. Amita smiled. She so was a genius.