After dad wrapped his hand, and gave Don some ice and tissue for his nose (it turned out to not be broken, lucky for Charlie, Don thought), he and Don didn't speak to each other for weeks. As the soreness and bruising wore off, Don tried, but Charlie either hung up on him if he deigned to answer one of his calls, or avoided him altogether. Charlie tried as hard to avoid Amita, but it was more difficult with her since they worked in the same academic department together, saw each other at meetings, and shared an office.

He didn't appreciate her attempts to try and trick him to come to the phone, finding Don on the other end of the line, or her attempts to try to explain away their behavior. Made reasonable sounding arguments as to the pros and cons of each brother.

He was smugly pleased to detect some friction between Don and Amita, too.

It looked like there was trouble in paradise now that he knew, and the few times he'd been forced to interact with them at all, the handful of times when they'd been called to the FBI - not by Don, but Megan, David, and even the new guy, Colby, and Charlie could tell Don's team all knew something was up, and he was only too happy to allude to the questionable comradery between Don and Amita - he'd also been only too happy to notice Amita was short with Don. She had been short-tempered, period, and Charlie wasn't sure what right she had to be mad about the situation.

Don, however, knew what Amita was mad about. It had been a recurring fight in the course of their relationship: his reluctance to talk to Charlie about what was going on between him and Amita. It wasn't like they never fought - there had been other minor spats, things that kept them, at most, apart for a night, two maybe, but usually Charlie, unwittingly, was at the center of them. A couple of times they had almost ended it, the situation seeming so impossible, before admitting that neither wanted to, each feeling the pull of attraction to the other, the desire to feel the relationship out, and fine, so they could admit it, the lurid and amazing sex. It was a vicious cycle. They would ignore the issue for a while, until one or other them tired of hiding the relationship, and it would flare up, only to be tamped down by guilt and fear.

It was a no-win situation no matter what, even Amita had to grudgingly admit that. Whether they had told him in the beginning or even a year from now, Charlie was going to be upset and hurt. There had been the argument that maybe if Charlie could see that it wasn't just some sordid fling, that it was a serious, long-term relationship, that he might come to accept what was going on. There had also been the pragmatic discussion of whether whatever was between could last long term, and develop into something serious, and even if it did, what would that look like? A few months? A year? A lifetime? They didn't know and it had been discussed between them that maybe it was best they didn't say anything, risk the heartache for Charlie and everybody else peripherally involved, if whatever was going on fizzled out. They could nurse the wounds alone, without having to deal with the knowledge they had caused Charlie or anyone else pain for nothing.

Amita had tried to explain all this several times as she and Charlie crossed paths at CalSci, before Charlie had walked out on her one day in the office. Hearing all the logical arguments that had gone into it, and worse, that his beloved Amita had been party to hiding what had been going on between her and Don, suggested some of it, further demonstrated how well she had helped to orchestrate events in her and Don's relationship. As much as he wanted to lay the blame for everything at Don's feet, he had to admit that Amita was just as responsible as well. Charlie had lashed out at her, realizing she had followed him to the classroom, thankfully empty of students and witnesses to this spectacle.

She didn't appreciate his insinuation that it was all about sex, she and Don seeking the thrill that came of a conducting a relationship in secret.

"It isn't like that. He loves me, Charlie!" she had yelled.

Charlie had scoffed, but a bolt like an arrow had gone through his chest at the declaration. Don had hinted as much, but he had never explicitly said he did, and Charlie wondered if it was true, that Don really did love Amita. That Amita loved him. That they were in love. Of course, Don would fall in love with the one woman that was perfect for Charlie.

He responded childishly, hurt that it worked so easily with his brother (like everything with his brother) and her, and not with him. Wondered aloud at his brother's lack of interest in higher academia beyond how it helped his work with the FBI, his inability to be able to understand her work, and how it would ever work when their focuses were so different.

"He doesn't need to understand it at the same level you do, Charlie, and anyway even if he isn't a math prodigy that doesn't mean he's stupid. He understands enough, he understands that it's important to me and he supports me. But more importantly - he understands that not all that I am. I'm not something that can and wants to be boiled down to just a bunch of numbers. There's more to me than math or science. I'm not just something that you can put in some-some-impersonal equation."

"I know that," Charlie said quickly, stunned.

"They're not the only interests I have."

"What else interests you? Besides my brother?" Charlie said sarcastically.

She glared hotly at him.

"Music, and - and - travel, and I like playing sports sometimes, or going to games. Just doing something fun like dancing, even if I'm not very good at it, because it feels good. I mean, just stupid things, that don't have any reason or logic or equation behind it. Sometimes I don't want to think everything to death. I want to know I'm not invisible, or second place to a chalkboard filled with numbers."

It felt like censure, what she'd said. That Charlie was lacking in some ability that, of course, Don had been blessed with in spades.

"You're not second-"

"Yes, Charlie, I am. Sometimes you barely even remember I'm here."

"He's never going to get you, like I do," Charlie said lowly. "His understanding of what you do, what you're capable of, ends - if you're lucky - at college algebra and he probably doesn't even remember any of that. How is he ever going to fully appreciate how brilliant –" he paused, overcome with emotion, "brilliant you are, the way I do, because he can't ever truly know. He doesn't get that level of genius."

"He understands I'm more than just a brain, Charlie."

"I'm sure."

"Stop it. I'm sorry that our being together has hurt you, but I'm not going to stop seeing him just because you can't deal with it. If you were any kind of friend at all, you would accept my decision to have a relationship with him."

"What about you? A friend wouldn't go after my brother. And while we're on this subject, maybe a brother wouldn't go after with the woman he's interested in."

"He didn't go after me, Charlie. And I can't help how I feel about him. And we did - we tried to stay away from each other. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Yeah, you have no self-control, either of you."

She'd thrown his eraser at him and stormed out of the empty classroom.

After that, he definitely avoided her and refused to be stuck alone with her, necessitating some clever maneuvering on his part when they had to work together on FBI cases.

Charlie had initially refused working with his brother, but his brother had anticipated him. Sent one of his team to present the case and any findings and Dad had piled on by pointing out how many innocent people could be suffering by not helping Don solve it faster. Another thing Don could feel guilty for, or should, Charlie thought spitefully.

He'd taken to punishing Amita since then, giving her the shit teaching assignments and leaving her hanging on research for Don, assuming she already knew, so she wasn't always clued in on what he was currently working on. Ignoring her, and in general just treating her like crap.

Something Don had taken notice of when Amita came late to one of the meetings, having only just realized minutes earlier that her presence was needed and requested and entirely unprepared.

Don had cornered her in the empty conference room later and demanded to know what was going on.

She was still peeved at Charlie and how he'd made her look incompetent and paced angrily in the space as Don listened to her rant about everything she'd been dealing with and trying to talk about over the last few weeks.

Charlie had caught of glimpse of them together before he'd left, a surge of satisfaction at seeing her and Don at odds with one another. Thought it served his brother right, maybe both of them, to have this illicit affair blow up in their faces. Ignored the fact given Amita's vehement defense of his brother, she would likely be hurt. He'd worry about it later, if he worried about it all.

Maybe it would be his chance to show her how wrong she'd been about Don and how he, Charlie, was right for her.

He'd forgive her. Eventually.

Maybe.

"He said I found a way to sneak around behind his back with you for nine months it should be easy to find my own way to your office, and that he guessed I did that all the time anyway," she said, her arms moving erratically as she talked. "I didn't even know you were having a meeting until he texted me that he was already here and everyone was waiting on me."

Don's mouth flattened in a thin line, his irritation with his brother flaring.

"I'm getting a little sick and tired of his behavior," Don said from his spot leaning back against a table where he watched her pace, arms crossed over his chest, expression pissed. "He has no right to keep treating you this way."

"You know I put up with it for a few weeks because, yeah, honestly? I thought maybe I deserved it a little. I mean, I'm not proud of how we did what we did, and for how long, but I don't regret it, Don. I'm not going to break up with you just because he's mad we're together. I mean, what's his logic? He can't have me, so I can't have anyone?"

"Anyone by the name of Eppes," Don said.

"Well fuck him and the horse he rode in on," Amita spat and Don raised his eyebrow in surprise and faint amusement. "I mean, he hasn't looked at this from any other point of view than his own."

"It's hard to fault him on that," Don replied.

"He and I, we don't work! Not in that capacity. Not like you and I. As far as I'm concerned, he's only proving I made the right decision in choosing to pursue something with you. He hasn't shown that he cares one iota for what my feelings are. Why do I want to be with someone who runs roughshod over them? If he honestly cared about me at all, he'd see how happy I was with you and be glad I found someone who made me feel this way."

"Again, it's hard to fault him on that," Don said.

"Are you on his side or ours?" She asked irritably. Don held up his hands in supplication.

"Is there a side in all this?"

"Yes, the I've grown-tired-of-his-attitude-and-we've-done-enough-penance-and-asked-for-enough-forgiveness side. How long do you think you should be punished for what you've done?" She asked him. "What is it exactly you've done that is so wrong? Fell in love with the wrong girl? Someone that happened to be the same girl he was interested in? Was that something you really had control over?"

"I shtupped his grad student for months without telling him. His words. And yes, also according to him."

"I'm his former grad student. And why is so bothered by that fact? It's not he could have had a relationship with me anyway. The university frowns upon fraternization, not to mention what that could have done to my career. Or his. And don't I get any say in this?"

Don sighed. "Of course you do. And I'm sure he's thinking as long as you're willing to break the rules to be with me, than why not break the ones about fraternizing."

"The rules?" She echoed.

"Look, it's a brother thing. Think of it as a variation of the Bro Code. The rule where you don't go after your brother's girl he's interested in. I should have known better than to pursue something with you when I knew how he felt about you."

"I'm the one who pursued you! Like you even had a choice."

"Yes, you were relentless." Don said, trying not to smile when Amita gave him a look. "Fine, maybe not relentless. You were very persuasive though. Determined. I was powerless to resist."

"I'm trying to be serious, Don."

"So am I."

"And okay, so maybe I wasn't as passive about it as I pictured myself to be, but I wasn't going to take no for an answer."

"That much was obvious."

"I could tell you really didn't want to say no, anyway."

"Again, I was powerless to resist."

She cocked her head to one side. "Be serious."

"Fine, no, I didn't really want to resist, not after you kissed me."

"Which time?"

"All of them."

"Well, anyway, you know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes, but the dimple in her cheek appeared and her eyes warmed slightly.

"Seriously. Given what he thinks are my obscene abilities to compartmentalize my feelings, he considers the fact that I allowed this to happen the ultimate betrayal."

"So what? If he could have handled the news better we would have told him sooner," she replied, sighing. "I am sorry, about the way we went about it. I wish I could take it back. Maybe never even went on that date with Charlie. I didn't know things weren't going to work out between him and I like that, but that it would work so well with you. Maybe I just regret how long we went about it that way. But I honestly don't know if, in the beginning, if it could have been done it any other way. I know you didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to hurt him."

"Yeah, well, he's hurting. It's going to take a while before that stops," Don said. She nodded, and bit her lip.

"So, what? We just put up with it? Let him make snide remarks to us every chance he gets? Ignore us? Keep feeling guilty like we did something really wrong? Break up?"

Don sighed and stood and walked towards her. She had finally quit moving around, arms wrapped defensively around her and she looked a little lost. He brushed his hand along her bicep and leaned in to kiss her, a rare display of affection from him at his work. Things were almost always completely professional and distant between them when they were together at the FBI offices, though Charlie had done his level best to involve his team in what was going on.

"No, we'll just give him space for a while longer and then I'll tell him how it's going to be."

It was Alan though, who'd had enough with both sons' behavior and called a family meeting three days later. Except he didn't call it that.

To Don, it was dinner, and since he knew Don would probably choose dinner with Amita over dinner with his dad at this point, he offered an olive branch and insisted she come, too, and promised that Charlie wouldn't be there when they arrived.

It was time to accept the fact that Don and Amita for the foreseeable future were a couple, and it wasn't that he had condoned everything that had happened, but he loved Don, and he had always like Amita, and he thought it said something interesting that nearly a year later after starting this affair they were still together and appeared to be happy and deeply in love despite the mess they'd created.

To Charlie, he'd called and told him about an hour before Don was schedule to arrive that as his landlord now it was critical he start addressing the plumbing issue with the house.

"Dinner will just be a few more minutes. Go on and make yourselves at home. You know where everything is," Alan called after greeting them. Amita had given him a bottle of wine, and an awkward quick hug, and now she and Don were standing together a little self-consciously in the foyer unsure of how to behave. He decided to give them a little privacy and retreated to the dining room, where he was finishing setting the table. He heard some muffled conversation as Amita whispered something to Don and he witnessed a brief, reassuring smile flash across his older son's face, before he encouraged Amita further into the house. Don followed Amita towards Alan, a hand at the small of her back as he guided her through the rooms. He stepped past her on the way to the kitchen, probably on a quest to retrieve a beer from the fridge.

"You need any help?" she queried hesitantly.

"You uh, you want to finish setting the table?" Alan asked.

"Yeah, absolutely," she said, smiling and Alan got the impression she was relieved to have something to do.

"Smells good, pop," Don said on his way back from the kitchen.

"You better not have been picking at it," Alan warned and Don grinned mischievously and and licked something off his fingers.

"Help Amita finish setting the table," Alan admonished sternly.

"What's to set? You're almost done here."

"We need wine glasses," she said, then frowned when she noticed the beer in Don's hand. "We brought wine." Don smiled winsomely.

"I know."

There wasn't much to observe in the way of signs of affection between them, but they bantered and bickered good-naturedly with one another, and Alan noticed that when Don looked at her he gave her his full attention, eyes locked on her face, smile playing at his lips, and he looked at her often.

"Yes, wine glasses, and we need to set one more place," Alan said and Don looked up sharply.

"For who?" he asked suspiciously.

"Your brother," Alan said. The happy grin Amita was still wearing after she had bestowed one on Don moments earlier faded.

"You said Charlie wasn't going to be here," Don accused.

"When you arrived, I said."

Don narrowed his eyes in disbelief, setting his beer down on the table with a thud.

"You're not the only who can equivocate when it suits him," Alan continued calmly, ignoring the fury in Don's eyes. "Anyway, it's time we all sat down together as a family. Amita, that includes you," he added, since it seemed like her antsy behavior might be indicating she was thinking about leaving them to it.

"Lucky me," she muttered.

"You love one of my sons, you're family. Save it," he added when he noticed Don about express his frustration at being tricked.

"It's not fun at all believing one thing is happening and discovering another is it?" Alan said pointedly. Don gave his dad a gimlet stare. "And I swear, that's the last jab I'm going to make tonight about what happened. If you two are content, than I'm glad you both are happy together, truly," Alan said. "I want you both to feel that you're welcome here. Together. This skulking around has gone on long enough."

"Yeah, well, thanks, dad," Don said gruffly, "but this isn't your house anymore, technically, and I don't think Charlie's going to welcome us as long as he's here."

"Just because your brother owns it doesn't mean I don't still occasionally make the rules in this family. It's my house, too. Charlie's just going to have to get over it."

"Yeah, because that's what he does," Don said sarcastically. Alan fixed him with an unamused stare.

"It's what he's going to do," he said firmly. "I'm not having a repeat of you two fighting on the lawn."

Don privately disagreed, but said nothing. Judging by the look on Amita's face, she didn't think so either.

"Here, here – take a seat and I'll grab the lasagna out of the oven."

"This is going to be a disaster, Don," Amita whispered as she pulled out a chair and slid down despondently in it. "I don't think your dad has any idea how Charlie's been dealing with it with us."

Don nodded grimly, taking the seat beside her, no time to answer her when Alan reappeared again from the kitchen.

"All right, looks good, doesn't it?" Alan said when he came back in carrying a bubbling pan between two oven mitts. The back door slammed just as he was setting it on the table.

"Charlie, is that you?"

"Yeah dad, I'm here. What's the big plumbing emergency that couldn't wait?" His voice trailed off suddenly when he stepped into the dining room and laid eyes on Don and Amita.

"What are they doing here?" Charlie bit out, looking at his Dad accusingly.

"Plumbing emergency?" Don said, eyeing his dad skeptically.

"The sink keeps backing up, but you know what? It'll keep until after dinner," Alan replied smoothly. "Have a seat, Charlie."

"I'm not staying for—"

"Have a seat, Charlie," Alan said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Now." He stared Charlie down and Don wondered if he'd grow a pair and test his father's patience. He didn't, reluctantly sitting on the side closest to the sideboard (and the exit, Don couldn't help noting), as far away from everyone as he could manage.

Amita and Don couldn't help a glance between each other as Don pursed his lips.

"Well now we're all here, so now what?"

Alan smiled at everyone from the head of the table and said, "So, let's discuss a few things, shall we?"