Disclaimer: Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.
Three
"Hello? Anyone home?" Don called out as he walked through the empty dining room. It was after nine in the evening, and the door was open so he knew Charlie or his father had to be there.
"Out here, Donny," bellowed Alan from the back deck where he and Charlie were eating ice cream and watching the sprinklers in the yard below.
"Hey," sighed Don as he walked out to join them.
"Have you eaten?" Alan said immediately, taking in the wearied look of his eldest son. "We've got leftovers."
"I'm fine, Dad." Don took a seat and stretched his legs out in front of him, loosening his tie as he did so.
"Fine? You don't look so fine. I bet you haven't eaten since breakfast. I'm getting you some soup," he muttered as he took Charlie's empty bowl and headed inside.
Charlie watched him go with a wry smile. He liked it when Don copped a serve of their father's parental nagging instead of himself.
"Rough day?" Charlie asked gently.
"It was okay. You?"
"The usual. I've been working on a really interesting paper with a visiting geometry professor on combinatorics of unbounded polyhedra and convex hull computation."
"Sounds thrilling," Don mumbled.
"You have no idea…"
Don barely listened as Charlie animatedly explained the project, only tuning in again when he concluded, without pausing for breath, "Oh and I got those files you dropped off this morning."
Charlie retrieved a notebook from the seat beside him. "The field reports were very thorough. I should be able to run a few variables on the data for you."
"Great, thanks," said Don, his chin practically on his chest in a contemplative pose. "There's no rush on that, Charlie, I wouldn't worry abut it."
"It's okay, I had a look before dinner. I'm particularly interested in the money trail from the tier one investors. At first glance they're perfectly legal, above board transfers but I noticed…"
Charlie was interrupted by Alan's return. He had brought Don a large bowl of soup and crackers and told Charlie to let his brother eat.
"And when you boys have finished talking shop I TiVo'd tonight's game, if you want to watch," Alan said as he retreated inside once more.
"Thanks, Dad. I'll be in in a minute," Don called after him. He eyed the soup tiredly before putting it aside in favor of the beer that Alan had also given him. He looked over at Charlie with a small smile. "Since when does Dad use TiVo?"
"Since I dismantled the VCR," Charlie replied.
Don raised a curious eyebrow.
"It was squeaking so I'm fixing it…" was the offered explanation. Charlie's thoughts soon returned to the Phelps case. "So, those transactions… the amounts might seem to be random but if you look closer…"
"Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay buddy?" said Don. His head was already swimming from the complex fraud case and the last thing he needed was a detailed description from Charlie about the intricacies of international bank transfers.
"Okay, but there's some really interesting patterns emerging and I was able to map – "
"I'll look at them tomorrow at the office, I promise," Don insisted, cutting him short.
"Okay, fine," said Charlie lightly, leaning back in his chair.
The brothers sat without speaking for several minutes, the only sound the faint whoosh of the sprinklers below them and the scratching of Charlie's pen as he scribbled down a few more thoughts as they popped into his head.
Don picked absent-mindedly at the beer bottle's label with his fingernail, deep in thought. After seeing Amita earlier in the day he had barely had time to think about talking to Charlie about their dinner date. It was only when he headed for home that the nagging thought he had successfully ignored for the whole day returned.
"So…" started Don slowly, "I saw Amita when I dropped off those folders at your office today."
"Uh huh," Charlie replied, without losing focus. His fingers pulled at an unruly curl that fell in front of his eyes as he contemplated the algorithm in front of him.
"What's the deal with you two, anyway?" Don asked as casually as he could. When Charlie didn't respond at first, he realized there was no point being subtle if he wanted to get his brother's attention. "Charlie?"
"What?"
"I asked what was going on with you and Amita…"
Charlie looked up finally, a flash of uncertainty on his face.
"Amita is my student. Nothing's going on," he said with an unconvincing shrug.
"But…" Don prompted him gently.
"But nothing," Charlie said with some firmness. "You know, I've been thinking about what you said the other day, about how I should hurry up and do something before she gets snatched up. Dad's the same too. And while I appreciate that you're both looking out for me, the thing about Amita is, she's my student. I'm her advisor, her mentor. You know, nothing can actually happen while I'm in that position."
Don pondered this for a moment. "But if you weren't… I mean, if you were in a position to…"
"But I'm not, Don, that's the thing. It would be ethically wrong, not to mention damaging to my reputation, my tenure…"
Don nodded slowly.
"Just because she's the only woman you and Dad ever see me with, doesn't mean we're destined to be together. Much as he'd like it…" Charlie finished with a half-hearted smile, gesturing towards their father inside.
"So I guess that means – "
"Stop worrying about me," Charlie cut him off. "I don't need you and Dad to help me get a girlfriend. I'll do just fine on my own, thank you."
A smile crept unbidden on Don's lips, masking his unease. "But how would you feel if she started seeing someone else?"
The question hung in the air for several seconds before Charlie found his voice.
"Fine, absolutely fine."
He shrugged casually but it was utterly unconvincing. Don didn't believe him for a second.
"Why, did you hear something?" Charlie said worriedly.
Don chewed his bottom lip for a moment. "I wouldn't worry about it, buddy," he replied quietly, before rising stiffly and taking his uneaten dinner inside to join his father.
It was after 11 when Don arrived home at his apartment, having left Alan dozing in front of the taped baseball game and Charlie brooding over his work.
It was too late to call her, Don told himself, but a few minutes later he was dialling information and asking for her number.
A sleepy voice answered after a couple of rings. "Hello?"
"Amita? It's Don," he said apologetically, convinced he had woken her. "I'm sorry, it's late…"
"It's fine, I was just finishing up some work," she lied, stifling a yawn. "I don't recall giving you my number, Special Agent Eppes. I hope you didn't look me up on some federal database. Such an abuse of power…"
"Actually you'd be surprised how few A. Ramanujans there are in L.A.," he countered, smiling despite himself. "I took a shot."
There was a faint laugh. "Wasn't today's interrogation enough? Have you got some more questions for me?"
Don's expression tightened. "Actually, it's about Friday… I don't think I'm going to be able to make it."
There was a brief pause. "Oh, okay."
"I mean, I appreciate the invitation, but I've got this big fraud case I'm working on, and I'm… you know, not going to be around much."
"It's fine, Don, don't worry about it." Amita's tone was even, betraying no emotion. "It was just dinner."
"You know, it's kind of complicated anyway, you working with my brother…" he felt the need to explain but couldn't say too much without revealing Charlie's feelings for her, whatever they might be. It wasn't Don's place to say anything at all in that regard.
A pause followed in which he heard a small sigh.
"Fine… if that's how you feel. Let's just forget about it," she replied quietly. "I'll see you around, Don,"
"Yeah… goodnight, Amita."
Don listened as another pause followed, but then there was a click and she was gone. He replaced his phone in its cradle, feeling like a jerk. Worse than that, he realised, was the regret that was tugging at his stomach. He was surprised how disappointed he felt.
"It was just dinner," he said dismissively, shaking himself out of it.
