Title: Revelations on a starry Night
Series: Ulysses *6/10*
Author: loozy
Characters: Robin- pov, Don, Alan, Billy Cooper, Don/ Robin
Rating: PG- 13/ K
Summary: "It was because it was in an office, right? Because if anyone asked, you could say that I was a desk jockey, you did not have to tell your pals from the protests that your son was a fed now, right?"

Word Count: 5174
Spoilers: after 5x23, Angels & Devils
Notes: There is an awesome beta in this world, and her name is valeriev84...

Prompt: # 33 Uncertainty
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fic. Numb3rs and everybody associated with it belong to Cheryl Heuton & Nick Fallucci and CBS.
Feedback: Yes, please. I love every kind of review, even the bad ones, as long as they are helpful and constructive.

Chapter 6 – Revelations on a starry Night

Don had once told her that Alan used to be crap at cooking.

Robin finds that hard to believe now as she is spooning salad into her mouth, relishing the taste of spicy rocket lettuce with strawberries and mozzarella. Apparently, in their sons' senior year, Margaret and Alan started cooking together, often including Don in their efforts, since Margaret was worried that her two men would not be able to feed themselves when she was not there.

She would not have them live on take- outs while Charlie had the benefit of having her with him.

She is lying in bed with Don on a lazy Sunday morning a couple of weeks ago when he tells her of the cooking and the resulting food fights of his parents. They cuddle and have fun until the rumbling of their stomachs reminds them that breakfast is something that they will have to indulge in if they want to go ahead with their plan of spending the day in bed and ignoring the outside world.

To her surprise, Don volunteers to make breakfast in bed, a most lavish breakfast, complete with a surprise.

Scrambled eggs. Sausage. Bacon. Mushrooms. Baked beans. Hash browns. Half a tomato.

She stares at the plate, wondering what has gotten into Don that he has pulled out all the has, even made her a pot of English breakfast tea, which she knew he loathes, favouring green tea himself, with a good measure of milk and sugar, too.

What is going on?

A questioning gaze to her boyfriend finds him looking at her with a slightly apprehensive gaze and he simply puts the tray just a little bit closer onto her lap and that is when she feels it.

Wrapped around the latest issue of the British Vogue are two plane tickets to London. In eight months.

She feels all tingly and warm all of a sudden. This is a commitment, a clear sign that he believes they will still be together in eight months; a better and more confirming gesture could not have been imagined.

He knows that she has wanted to go to London since she was a kid and now he is going to accompany her?

Unless the ticket is for her and her favourite sister.

She quickly unrolls the magazine and checks the names on the tickets.

Donald Samuel Eppes. Robin Charlotte Brooks.

"So, you like it?"

"Like? Like? Seriously? You're asking me if I like this?"

He nods, but the tense expression has loosened as he sees the gigantic smile forming on her face.

"Good."

"Were you worried that I wouldn't like it?"

Don squirms a bit, twists his hands, looks at his empty wrist, where his watch usually is.

"Well... I mean I took a leap of faith..."

"Your rabbi tell you that?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry... But, Don, this is... Wow... I love it."

There is a charged moment of silence between them, their eyes locking onto each other. A pin dropping could be heard.

It would be so easy to break the quiet, to turn them back into the relaxed state they were in mere seconds ago; but this is an important moment, and they both know it.

Neither knows how to handle it, though.

The silence stretches on, and it passes the moment of comfort. Awkwardness ensues.

"Well..."

"Yes."

Robin looks over at him. Don is looking flustered, his hand twitching compulsively towards his hair.

It is not the sexiest thing she has ever witnessed, but at this moment, she has never wanted him more. His hair is ruffled from sleep and raking his hands through it, he is dressed in boxers and a tee, his bare feet twitching in sync with his hands.

It is endearing and so very appealing.

Robin forces herself out of the memory before she relieves it and starts with the appropriate auditory commentary to accompany it, and forces herself back into the present.

Eppes- backyard.

Barbecue.

Cooper. Don. Alan.

All staring at her a bit amused, and she flushes, for a moment wondering that she has spoken out loud the whole time.

"What?"

"Nothing."

And the men clamp up and return to their topic of conversation, if they actually had one. Judging from the silence, no, not really.

"So, Agent Cooper-"

"Sir, I think you can call me Cooper or Billy. You don't have to call me Agent Cooper."

"Cooper, how is Fugitive Recovery these days?"

"Still lonely, Sir."

"You don't have a partner at the moment?"

"No, sir."

Billy smirks at Don who returns the smirk.

"Since Don none the Bureau pushed on me had the guts to stay. Too much to live up to."

Now they are positively beaming at each other, and Robin has to force herself to remain in the here and now, and not drift off into fantasy- land. But God, these two men, in a sexually charged atmosphere, after a rough and hard case, and they need reassurance and...

Don't get her wrong, Don is all alpha and so is Billy, and while there is a bit of homosexuality in everyone, hell, she has experimented in college, who does not, this image just... Oh wow...

In the shower, water running down their hot bodies, their lean muscled figures moulding into each other, slick, hot, sweaty and heavy...

Any cooling wipes around?

No, of course not, and if she excused herself now and left, Don would know. And maybe he would follow her then, to tease, and then he would play at being a tease and maybe then-

What is wrong with her?

One more mental shake, if she is not remotely calm after that, she will have to do something about that. Even if she has to resort to dragging Don into his old room. Right now, she would rather face the amused and abashed looks on the men's faces than this aroused state.

Okay.

Her father in underpants. Her father in socks and nothing else. Her oldest sister's husband in socks and nothing else. Billy in socks and nothing else (damn it). Her second- oldest sister's husband in socks and nothing else. Her former boss in socks and nothing else. Don in a suit. Don with his tac gear on. Don stripping. Don naked.

Don naked.

Don naked.

Don's expression the evening four days ago when she told him.

Oh God.

With a strangled moan she shoots out of the garden chair and rushes into the house, into the kitchen, to splash some water onto her face and get the heat out of her cheeks.

Where has her control gone? When did it slip off her radar where Don Eppes is concerned? Oh, she knew that she was near powerless when it came to him, but until now she has been able to keep a certain amount of decorum, to not lose it now.

"What's wrong?"

And damn the man for being able to sneak up to her like that!

"Billy? What the- What are you doing here?"

Why Billy? Why not Don? Don would be so much more convenient.

"Well, you kinda stormed away from the table... Makes you wonder what is going on."

Where is Don? She likes Billy, really, but right now? She needs Don!

"Where is Don?"

"Outside. Probably glued to the door, listening in on what we are saying."

No, he is not. Don is too much of a gentleman, and besides, even if he forgot his manners, Alan is probably sitting on him. It still begs the question, why Billy is here.

"Why you?"

"Well, we just decided that it would be me because... You know..."

Men!

"No, I don't know. What am I supposed to know?"

"Uhm... Well, Don had this weird face on him, so I kinda thought it would be best if I went in first?"

He does not sound very sure of himself.

"Billy, I need Don."

And this was the wrong thing to say because Billy's worry changes to speculation and he starts to look her up and down rather shamelessly.

"So this is how you roll? Wait for me to arrive to mortify your boyfriend in front of his father?"

Oh shit.

"That's totally fine with me. I would not be adverse to it."

If only he knew. Well, she might actually ask him. Later. Not now. Now, Don. Now.

"Don, please."

"I'll send him in."

And out he is, wagging his behind for all he is worth, and before the door to the kitchen has swung shut, it is swinging open again, this time bearing Don.

"Robin? You okay?"

"Yeah."

He is still looking good, delicious, in his casual clothes and she calms down a bit, returns to Earth, as his strong hands settle on her hips, as her face is being scrutinized by his eyes.

"You look flushed."

She slowly runs her hands up and down his forearms, can feel the slight shudder running through him at the gesture.

"I'm okay, it was nothing."

"I don't believe you."

Reassured that she is alright, his eyes crinkle in humour now as his hands slowly settle on her behind.

"I was just, I think I was having a delayed reaction."

"To what?"

"To what I told you four days ago."

His smile grows slowly, eventually showing teeth and he moves a bit closer to her so that their bodies are in contact now.

"Delayed reaction? How would you have reacted had you not had one?"

Now her hands are running down his back and cup his bottom.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

She has calmed now, can even joke about what just happened, what just rattled her.

"Oh yes, I would. Very much so. Why did you have to do that now? Why not after Billy went home or when we are home? Where is Billy staying anyways?"

"I volunteered your guest room. "

He groans and lets his head fall forward until it rest on her left collarbone. She moves one hand up to run through his thick dark hair.

"Why? He could stay in my old room here at the house."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

He considers.

"Yeah, you're right. I think they have stuff to talk about before they could co- exist in the same house for the night."

"Shall we go back outside?"

"Well, they could always sort out their differences now since we are both inside... And didn't you want to... You know?"

"Not here. Later."

"Promise?"

"Yup."

"Cool. Just gimme a sec."

He is standing in the kitchen, making her a cup of tea as it has become his ritual after dinner. She never pegged him for someone who likes to drink tea, so when she discovered his collection of green and white tea, she was quite surprised.

And even more surprised when he managed to suck her in, to make her appreciate tea on a more sophisticated level than the English Breakfast Tea she loves.

They had dinner at the Italian place around the corner from his apartment, a quaint little restaurant, after she picked him up from the office, finally forcing him to abandon the open case that was getting nowhere. Now he is making them their by now customary cup of tea and she is sorting through his CD collection.

Not for the first time she has to smile at the way his CDs are ordered. By name and year of release and of course by genre. The same with his books while his clothes are all stacked or hung according to colour.

Tonight she is in the mood for something sappy, romantic. So she pays no heed to Arctic Monkeys, Franz Ferdinand, Rolling Stones and White Stripes when her eyes rest on a CD she had never thought Don Eppes would own.

Barbra Streisand – The Essential Barbra Streisand

Where did that one come from? For a moment she is distracted from her search for the perfect song by the amount of teasing material that comes to mind. She pulls the CD out of curiosity when the first track catches her eye.

Woman in Love.

Well, don't you know it? The perfect song. Or maybe something different. Maybe he has this CD but hates it?

"Hey, what you in the mood for?"

"Don't care. You pick!"

Okay, now the field is wide open. Maybe no Streisand but... She stands in front of his CD- collection and cannot pick one. There are too many possibilities. Don Eppes has a surprising amount of potentially romantic music.

"Nothing?"

He has come up behind her with two cups of tea in his hand. She takes one cup from him, relishing the first sip.

"I love you."

This was not the way she wanted to say it, but it just came out, and now she is glad that it did. She hates those fluffy scenes in movies when a situation warrants for such a statement. Yet, when he handed her the tickets, or even before when he did so many things, like taking her out whenever and wherever she wanted, giving her countless massages, listening to her rant and so on and so on, it never seemed right.

And now, in a mundane and comfortable moment of domesticity, she wants to say it.

Because it is the only situation that she could have imagined blurting this out.

Don just beams at her, his teeth nearly blinding her in the semi- darkness of the living room and then kisses her with a fire that makes her weak in the knees. She knows he is not big on verbally expressing his emotions, and she is fine with that.

His actions speak louder than words.

Once the kiss ends, with both of them breathing heavily, he turns away briefly, looking at the CDs for a moment before picking one out and putting it into the system. He forwards to the right track and when she hears the opening beats, she has to grin madly at the fact that Don owns a Beyonce- CD and then she just gets lost in his eyes as he walks towards he, hugs her to him closely and starts to sway softly to the rhythm.

Halo.

And then the surroundings and the song start to fade and all she is aware of is him.

She is torn back to the present when he moves away from her and leans against the kitchen sink.

"What'cha thinking about?"

"Not you!"

She could move behind him and start to tickle him in his places, drive him mad, but she leaves it for now. The fire has abated, the flame still simmering but it will have to do for now. So she just kisses him on the nape before moving outside again.

"I'll be out in a sec, tell them I had to go to the toilet or something."

"Don, I don't think it matters what I say, they'll know."

"Ah damn it."

She laughs softly at his playfully despairing tone and then leaves the kitchen and heads back outside.

Billy and Alan are sitting at the table, not really speaking. The level of tension is so high she would love to run back into the house and take off with Don, but at the same time cannot help but berate herself for leaving the two men alone.

She knows they do not get along particularly well but this just cannot be happening. Alan called Billy, so that means that he should be able to mend bridges.

Whatever happened between those two?

"Whatever happened between the two of you that you cannot talk to each other?"

"Oh, we can talk. We talked when I called Agent Cooper."

Uh- oh. Alan is calling Billy Agent Cooper again. It could only be worse if he called him Special Agent Cooper.

She has to get into lawyer- mode apparently, in order to get this right. Don is probably not the best negotiator for this, with his loyalties torn between Billy and his father. So it is up to her to mediate.

"Okay, while we are here, we will talk this out."

Both Alan and Billy look equally scandalized. Alan is the first one to voice his opinion.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course!"

"Robin, I don't think this is a good idea."

"Oh shush, Billy. You will talk this through. If we want to make it through this weekend alive, you guys will have to resolve your issues."

"What is going on?"

Don has come back out into the garden.

"Are we ever actually gonna eat or is the meat for decoration?"

She smiles sweetly up at him.

"Why don't you man the grill and those two will talk."

She puts extra emphasis on the last two words to signal that neither Alan nor Billy will get out of this. Don, used to her being- in- charge- persona, does not say a thing but starts to master the barbecue, listening in with a curious ear.

This concerns him as much, if not even more, as the other two men.

"I feel as we are at Dr Phil or something like that. Oprah or shit like that."

Don snorts at Billy's inelegant comment.

"Well, I feel as if I am in kindergarten, running interference between two toddlers. Seriously."

More snorting from Don, this time, she is sure, at her use of 'seriously'. She picked it up when she started watching Grey's Anatomy and used it to drive him up the wall, since he is not the biggest fan of that word. Now, it is a kind of running joke between them, something to loosen tension, and this, again, shows her just how far they have come.

But now back to the issue at hand.

"What it is that makes you dislike each other so much?"

Silence. They are just glowering at each other. It is a battle of wills, of who is going to cave first, and neither her nor Don can do anything about the impending explosion.

"He took our son away from us."

She can practically feel Don forcing himself to refrain from saying anything.

"I did not do that!"

"He would not call for weeks on end, worrying us to death! And whenever we saw him, he was hurt in some way. Scratches, bruises or when he was in hospital? He got beaten up and shot and stabbed and-"

"Dad! I get beaten up, stabbed and shot in LA, too. And in Albuquerque. It comes with the job! That is not Coop's fault!"

"Donnie, you changed when you were with him! That is nothing that I can approve of. You became distant. We worried! Your mother was afraid to watch the news because there might be news of FBI- agents killed. Afraid that it might be you!"

"Did you have that little faith in my abilities? In my partner? That you actually believed that I would get killed that easily?"

There is an underlying well- hidden hurt in Don's voice, but Robin knows that Alan and Billy can pick up on it, too.

"Mr Eppes, I can assure you, we are highly trained, and no- one is sent into Fugitive Recovery if he isn't deemed fit for the task."

"He had a nice desk job in Detroit."

"I nearly died of boredom there! My boss was an ass and would have me get coffee and staple documents. That was all that I did all day! You think I was happy? Seriously?!"

None of the humour of his use of the word remains. They are laying it all out on the table now. Or at least as much as any of them can stomach for the night.

"At least it was safe. It was in an office."

Don sees right through his father.

"It was because it was in an office, right? Because if anyone asked, you could say that I was a desk jockey, you did not have to tell your pals from the protests that your son was a fed now, right?"

Alan says nothing, just stares at his son, who does not back down.

"Are you that ashamed of me?"

"No, never!"

Too quick. They all know it.

"I mean, I was not happy with your career choice. You could have gone on to law school after college or maybe become a coach after baseball. There were possibilities, other than becoming a fed or a police officer."

Don looks away for a moment, swallowing visibly.

"But you said that I was a born cop."

"And I mean that. But Donnie, I was not like that back in your man hunting days."

"What made you change your mind?"

"More like who."

"Mom?"

Alan only nods.

"She reminded me of the toy gun. Of how you always protected the smaller kids in school. How you always wanted to look for evil guys and the monsters under Charlie's bed, how you promised him to chase them down if they even thought about attacking him. It was the small bits."

The grill has been abandoned by now and Robin reaches over to nibble on a piece of bread, if she does not want to starve. Billy, momentarily forgotten, follows her example, and they catch each other's eyes, signalising that everything is okay, still. The two other men need to talk this through more than Alan and Billy need to sort out their issues.

"Donnie, I know I was harsh in the beginning, when you told us... But believe me, I never hated you. It was fear. I was just afraid for you. That you would get hurt."

"Yeah, but, Dad, none of the injuries I got were Billy's fault. Usually he even prevented me from worse ones."

Now the attention is back on Billy and the redhead squirms a bit uncomfortable.

"If it was not for him, I might actually be dead now."

If Don wanted to make a statement that brought Alan up short, he just succeeded.

"That true?"

Helplessly, lost, Alan looks to Billy for confirmation.

"Yes, sir."

"Oh God."

The two younger men find the grass very interesting all of a sudden, as Alan's gaze switches between his son and his son's former partner.

"And if it was not for your son, I would be dead, too, sir."

Billy's voice is respectful, but carries a force that brings his point across. They were just looking out for each other, and this is what partners do. On the job or in private life.

"So, I guess I owe you an apology?"

"No, sir."

"Why?"

"I wasn't doing it out of obligation- I was doing it because I wanted to. That guy over there, he's like my little brother. So I did what every big brother does, just like Don did for Charlie. That doesn't need to be thanked for. It's a natural thing."

Billy stands up, stretching.

"Where's the toilet?"

"Off the kitchen to the left."

He leaves and silence reigns again. Don has turned back to the grill, firing it up.

"Your mother always said that you would end up in law enforcement. She said that you were just wired that way. Even with the baseball, she was so sure that you would turn to the law at some point."

The words come out of the blue and both Don and Robin watch Alan in the semi- darkness, stunned.

"We had this big argument when you guys were in senior year. It was before we decided that she would go to Princeton with Charlie. You had just gotten accepted to Dartmouth, and we were figuring out how to make do. There was still the Stanford- offer for Charlie, and we were considering it because we didn't want to be apart so much-"

"You were thinking about divorce!"

Don's forceful voice stops Alan short.

"You had so many problems when we were in high school. Charlie might not have noticed, but I did, Dad."

"We didn't want to bother you with it."

"Well, I was not off in my own world all the time, so I saw that you were barely talking. And that you were fighting."

"You noticed that?"

"Why do you think I was okay with Charlie waiting for me during practice all of a sudden? Or taking him out for walks? Geez."

"Your mother knew you knew."

"Well, it's not like you were very secretive about it!"

Billy has returned but neither Alan nor Don take note of him. He throws Robin a sly glance and then grabs more bread, showing her the butter he nicked from the fridge. She grins and hands him her roll.

"I remember this one night, you were eight- years- old, playing Beethoven I think it was, when your mother wanted you to attend an academy of music because she thought that you had a talent that should be developed. And really, even the Petri dish said so."

Don laughs out loud at Alan calling the loathed teacher by the nickname the brothers gave her.

"And did you send him to an academy?"

Alan looks away at her question, clearly uncomfortable. The tension has risen up a notch, so tangible you could grab it and bundle it up. Oh, how much Robin would like to do so right now, just hide the tension away in a garbage bag and heave it over to the neighbour's yard.

They all just know that what is going to come out of Alan's mouth is going to be painful.

"Yeah, why did you not, Dad? You knew that I actually liked playing the piano."

"I know, you would spend hours playing that thing. And you were good. Really good."

For a split second, the atmosphere is relaxed, Alan even grinning slightly.

"You could find Donnie in two places back then. Either at the piano or right here, throwing the ball and practicing his pitches."

"So why no academy?"

Silence. A very long silence. Bar the sizzling of the meat on the grill, nothing.

"Come on, Dad."

"Because we decided that Charlie's education was more important. His ability was a given, while you we were just making a guess. You were good, but there was no guarantee that it was going to take off... And a couple of years later you abandoned the piano anyways, so it was the right decision, in a way."

Alan chances a look at Don's face, which is stormy now.

"Or not. But it was a financial question, Donnie. We had to pick."

Don is visibly seething by now, something that he rarely lets himself be, the control freak reigning him in.

"You wanna know why I stopped?"

Of course Alan wants to know, Billy and her want to know, but at the same time, Robin wants to shield him from the pain this is inflicting on him. He is inflicting it on himself by dragging this up again. She knows that he actually loved playing the piano, and has long ago resolved to buy him one when they ever move in together. The best way to get him to relax is to draw a bath and then put on some piano music, Beethoven or Chopin, and get into the hot tub with him.

He might not be a second Barenboim or might not have been a wunderkind, but should he not have gotten the chance to develop his talent?

"Ask me, dad. Ask me why I stopped."

"Why, Donnie?"

This is hurting both of them so much.

"Because Charlie started playing, too, and all of a sudden everybody only cared about him. Mom used to love to sit with me and play with me, but when Charlie started, it was all about him again. Because it could not be that the prodigy could not play the piano. He had to excel at everything! Forget about his dopey older brother, he played baseball, so what would he know? Charlie had absolutely no sense of rhythm, still doesn't, but everybody was on about him playing, and how he would develop if he was just given the right chance. The Petri dish recommended sending him to an academy, right? So yeah, piano was my domain, until he started playing, too. So that's why I stopped, Dad. Because aside from baseball, piano was the one other thing I had for myself, and now it was Charlie's, too, and I was in the background again."

"Oh, Donnie."

"I was a jock. You know why? Because I wanted to have my own niche, where Charlie could not interfere. It was my thing. He wanted to play baseball, too, but luckily Mom stopped him. Because then I would not have had anything. So I was a jock, he was the nerd. And you know the funny thing?"

He nearly sneers at his father.

"It was still not me. Because I was not a jock. I just played a role, again. The FBI gave me the chance to be myself; this was what I knew I was gonna be good at."

"And you are. I see that now. It took me a while, but Donnie..."

"Dad, just... Mom understood, but then sometimes she did not. She knew that I wanted my own space and yet she forced Charlie on me at times. And so did you."

"Charlie would not let go of us because of the piano. He wanted to play it because you did. He wanted to play baseball because you did."

"Oh fuck, Dad. Not this again."

"Donnie, do you have any idea how great you were as a big brother?"

"Dad-"

"There is a reason why you were Charlie's hero. You were the best big brother one could have wished for. And he wanted so much to be like you."

"Oh jeez."

Don is raking his hands repeatedly through his hair, his distress obvious.

"It was not that we wanted to undermine you. It was just that Charlie wanted to do everything that you did."

"And yet, the focus was always on him."

"That I have no excuses for. And I know that your mother was sorry for that, too. It's just that he always seemed more fragile when compared to you."

"And guess why that was."

Don's voice is sharp and biting now.

Equally sharp is the smell of the burning meat that they all forgot about in the heat of the moment.

In a sudden bustle of activity they break the quiet, sort out who wants what from the grill and then sit down to finally eat.

No conversation is made, and it is for the better. They are all still recovering from the results of what just went on a couple of minutes ago.

Robin reaches over under the table and squeezes Don's thigh. He covers her hand and holds it tight.

She will have to eat dinner with one hand, but since she picked a sausage she will manage.

She knows that the contact is grounding him at the moment, and there is nothing she would rather do right now.