Thanks to all my reviewers for your lovely words! One day I'll be finished with school and have time to respond to your reviews individually. I hope. -_-;
Thanks especially to An-Jelly-Ca who reviewed every chapter and made me feel guilty for not updating in forever. This one's for you, honey. :)
Prompt: Kid
Rating: K+
Characters: Don, Charlie, Colby, David, Megan
Warnings: language, brotherly schmoop out the wahoo, excessively hot men being hot, PWP without the pr0n (Plot What Plot?)
Genres: Humor, Family, Fluff, Gen, Friendship, Pr0nless PWP (Plot? What Plot?)
Summary: When touring an FBI field office, it's best to remember the rules: 1. Don't touch the evidence. 2. Don't make 'bomb' jokes. 3. You cannot fire the guns. 4. Those 'girls' can kick your ass. 5. Mocking the FBI consultants will not make you friends. 6. Especially when they're the little brother of the Violent Crimes Squad Leader.
"I didn't know the FBI did 'bring your kid to work' days."
Colby frowned and stopped his explanation of the Violent Crimes Squad's duties. "Excuse me?"
The cop, one of several who were here as part of an initiative to make friends between the FBI and local law enforcement, was probably nearing retirement, and fairly stereotypical as far as grizzled old school cops went.
He'd even made a comment or two about female agents that had Colby quite amused that Megan was going to be the one to take them down to the training area/gym.
See if he could keep his outdated notions about the place for females in law enforcement when Megan laid his ass out on the mats.
He pointed and Colby followed the finger to see it was aimed at Charlie who was sitting on the edge of Don's desk and—okay, the fact that he was doing a Rubix Cube didn't exactly discourage the notion that he wasn't an FBI agent or even an adult.
Still, that kid probably had a higher IQ than this entire tour group. And certainly a better solve rate percentage-wise.
"That's Professor Charles Eppes," Colby said. "He's a consultant for the Bureau—and the LAPD on occasion."
The cop snorted. "That kid? One of those whattayacallums? The, uh, retards that can do the number tricks. Like what's his name in that one movie." He snapped his fingers.
Colby let his gaze drop momentarily, huffing a laugh. "Rainman?" he said.
"Yeah! With Dustin Hoffman."
How the hell was this guy still on the force? He had to have at least one EO suit pending against him. At least one.
Colby thought most people took 'political correctness' too far, but this guy made a convincing argument for stricter regs.
"No," the agent said. "Charlie is not like Rainman, though is a math professor."
"Hey, Colby," Don said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. "What's up?"
"Don, this is the group of LAPD officers and detectives that we're supposed to be making friends with." Colby gestured at Don. "This is my team leader, Special Agent Don Eppes."
"Oh yeah-yeah, I remember getting the memo on this. Hi," Don said, shaking hands with each officer in turn.
"Agent Eppes?" one of the younger—and far more polite—officers said. "Are you and Professor Eppes—"
"We're brothers, yeah," Don said with a grin. "Hey Charlie! Come over here!"
Charlie looked up from his puzzle, then hopped down and made his way through the bullpen toward them.
"Yeah, Don? What's up?"
"This is my little brother and math geek extraordinaire, Dr. Charlie Eppes," Don said.
Charlie gave Don a dirty look, but he smiled when he said, "Hi," and shook hands around the circle.
"Charlie, these are some of the local cops—"
"Right. I remember. Make Friends with the Cops Day. Hi."
Another of the young cops said, "So, you actually use math to help the FBI solve crimes?"
"Hell yeah," Don said, grinning. "Charlie can do all sorts of things with his numbers."
Charlie laughed in that way that said he was both amused and annoyed with his brother. "What my brother means is—"
"Charlie!" David called. "I got the files."
"Ooh!" He started to leave, then turned back, though his footsteps still carried him toward the War Room where David had gone. "Uh, sorry, I have to—" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and Don waved.
"Sure, Charlie. Go do your thing."
Charlie smiled and held up a hand. "Nice meeting you all."
Then he turned and jogged off.
The older cop snorted. "Unbelievable."
Don's head jerked to the side slightly as his eyes narrowed, though his smile stayed in place. "What is, Detective?"
"Just the way they keep bringing in these kids with their fancy degrees and shit. They're gonna try and replace us with computers before you know it. But nothing beats good old fashioned hands-on investigating."
"I agree," Don said, his voice still polite and his smile friendly.
Colby had to cough to cover his laugh. Here it came . . .
"But nothing also beats letting a kid with his fancy degree crunch some numbers for half an hour and save me six hours of phone calls and three hours of knocking on doors in the hopes that one neighbor saw enough of the suspect's car to enable me to put out a BOLO that may or may not generate a few tips that might lead to the location and apprehension of a suspect."
Don poked at the detective's chest. "And certainly nothing beats that same kid's number crunching leading me right to the suspect on the first try.
"Charlie's not a substitute for a trained agent with a well honed instinct and years of experience. But he's a whole helluva lot more efficient than an entire task force pounding the streets looking for clues that we already have if we know how to look for them."
Colby kept his mouth shut and his gaze averted, but he couldn't help his eye brows rising or smug tilt to his lips, no matter how hard he tried.
Don nodded politely to the other officers, then turned and left, heading to the War Room, probably to see if Charlie needed any more data—or if he already had their answer.
"Any questions?" Colby asked. "Okay. I've got to get back to work, but Special Agent Reeves will be taking you downstairs to show you the training areas." He turned. "Megan!"
Her head popped up from her cubicle. "Yeah! Oh," she said, upon seeing the officers. "Is it ten? Damn. Okay." She hurried over to meet them, handing Colby a folder. "Give this to Don, will you?"
"You got it." He lowered his voice and leaned in. "And good luck."
She gave him a look and he just grinned.
"Okay!" she said, turning to the group. "I'm Special Agent Megan Reeves . . ."
Colby chuckled and watched them board the elevator, then turned and entered the War Room.
"From Megan," he said as he handed Don the folder.
He took a seat on the edge of the table where Charlie was tapping away at his laptop.
"Hey, Whiz Kid," he said, ruffling Charlie's hair. "You got our answers yet?"
"Hey!" Charlie protested, ducking away. "I'm trying to work here. And no. I haven't even finished entering the data." He glared. "Unless you want to help—"
Colby stood, hands going up. "No, I'm good, really. Thanks."
"I have an open spot on this laptop," David offered.
"Looks occupied to me," Colby said and went to go sit with Don in the peanut gallery.
David shook his head and Charlie snorted, but went back to his work instead of pursuing it.
"So, uh, what happened after I left?" Charlie asked.
"What do you mean?" Colby asked.
"Well, Don was a little pissed when he came in here—"
Don snorted. "I wasn't pissed."
"Uh, yeah, you kind of were, Don," David countered with a half laugh.
Don glared.
"But it was with good cause," Colby reassured him.
He got a glare too.
"Why?" Charlie asked. "What did—"
"Nothing," Don said, warning his agents with a look. "One of the detectives—" And wow was that a lot of scorn packed into that one word. "—was afraid you're going to steal his job someday."
Charlie laughed in genuine amusement. "What? Geeks instead of cops? Yeah, right."
"That's what I said," Don agreed. "You're useful, don't get me wrong, but that doesn't mean I want to send you out with a gun to confront a cornered suspect."
Colby and David laughed outright at that image and Charlie shook his head.
"Thank you, no. I am perfectly content to stay here and—Ah! Got it."
Don and Colby both perked up and David said, "What've you got, Charlie?"
Charlie launched into his math explanation and Colby let it flow through his ears, paying attention in case something miraculously jumped out at him, but missing the significance of most of it.
But for all the work and time and lives he saved them, Colby figured it was a small price to pay to let the kid ramble on a bit about the numbers he loved.
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