Disclaimer: Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.
Five
That same night, his plans to return to the office abandoned, Don answered the knock at his door, expecting the delivery of Chinese food he had ordered. Instead he was surprised to find Amita standing there, an uncertain expression on her face.
"Amita?"
"I hope you don't mind – I probably should have called first," she said, a faint smile appearing on her lips.
Hesitating for a split second, Don shook his head and opened the door for her, inviting her in.
"Of course not, come in." He waited until she had entered the living room, closing the door slowly while he considered what he was going to say to her. He was curious how she had even tracked him down. "How did you know where I lived?"
She grinned. "You think you're the only one capable of doing some investigating?"
"No, but I also know I'm not in the book and I'm assuming you haven't hacked into any federal databases…" he replied just as lightly.
Amita took in the room around her with its pale olive walls and neat, matching furniture. "Actually I gave Charlie a ride here a few months ago, when he was watering your plants while you were away."
"Oh. Do you want to sit down?" he said, gesturing to the sofa.
"Sure… I'm sorry to come by unannounced. I know how busy you are," she said drolly, after she took a seat.
Don bobbed his head, embarrassed that she had called him on his lame excuse.
"Couldn't resist, sorry," she smirked, eyes twinkling.
With a small laugh, he nodded in agreement. Amita waited until he sat down in an armchair before continuing more seriously.
"I just tried calling Charlie because he didn't come to school today. He didn't want to talk to me but I spoke to your dad."
Don's spark of good humor vanished. "What did he tell you?"
"That you and Charlie had an argument," she said hesitantly. "That maybe it was about me."
"No, it was about Charlie being Charlie." Don sighed as he sat back in the chair, and rubbed his eyes with one hand.
"Don, the last thing I wanted was to cause any problems between you and your brother. This whole thing was my fault – I shouldn't have said anything to him yesterday."
"It's not your fault Charlie was being an ass."
"No, I just blurted out the fact that I had asked you to dinner… that we were going out and then we weren't. It was insensitive of me just to drop it in conversation like that," Amita replied, her brow furrowed. "I didn't mean to hurt him. Charlie's a sweet guy and I cherish his friendship, but regardless of our situation at school… I don't want you to feel like you came between us in any way. My feelings for Charlie are different."
She let out a long breath in frustration, feeling she wasn't explaining herself well. "When I asked you to dinner it was because I wanted to get you know you better… And, I don't know, maybe I picked up on the wrong signals but I thought you were interested."
"Amita, it's not that I'm not," answered Don, his hand now pressing against his temple, "but Charlie…"
"I know, now Charlie's upset." Her expression saddened at the thought.
"Look, he's pissed at me, not you. And this is more about sibling rivalry than anything." Don caught the sudden look of amusement in her eyes, and realized what he had said. "Not that you're not worth arguing over… you know what I mean…"
Before she could answer there was another knock at the door.
"Hang on a second," said Don, disappearing down the hallway.
This time it was the delivery guy. Don paid him and brought the food back to the kitchen.
"Sorry, I haven't eaten yet," he explained.
Amita took the hint, and rose from the couch. "Look, I'll go, I don't want to interrupt your dinner."
"It's okay," Don said quickly. "There's plenty if you'd like to join me."
Amita stared at him a few seconds longer than necessary before she shrugged as casually as she could.
"I could eat…" she said.
Alan was finishing the washing up when Charlie shuffled into the kitchen. Not wanting to scare him off, Alan resisted the temptation to start haranguing him about not accepting Amita's call. Instead he threw his son a dishcloth so he could help dry the last of the dishes.
"I kept some chicken for you, if you're hungry," Alan said conversationally.
"No thanks," Charlie mumbled.
"Well, it's nice to hear you talking again." Alan tried to catch Charlie's eye to give him a quick grin but he was studiously concentrating on drying a bowl. "You get any work done out there?"
"No."
"And what about all the stuff from the garage?"
"I put it back."
"Oh, good," Alan said, pleased that at least Charlie had given up on his garage-refuge. "So… feeling better then?"
"No, not really," sighed Charlie morosely. "I suppose you spoke to Don?"
"And Amita."
"So you know what he did then." Charlie's anger was rising again.
Alan put down his dishcloth and looked at Charlie kindly. "I know your feelings are hurt. I wish I could make it better, Charlie my boy, I really do."
"You were the one who told me she likes me," he said in an almost accusatory manner.
"She does like you, she told me so tonight. But, like you, she knows that there's nowhere for your relationship to go while you're her advisor. And, as much as she does care about you, she's interested in someone else."
"Yeah, my own Judas brother."
"I'll ignore the Apostlistic reference but, yes, your brother." Alan laid his hands on Charlie's shoulders, forcing his son to look at him. "I know it hurts when you like someone and the feelings aren't reciprocated. But punishing Don because Amita doesn't feel the same way about you isn't fair."
"But why her?" Charlie said in a small voice. "Don's had a ton of girlfriends and never has any trouble finding someone. Why did it have to be Amita?"
"I don't know about you, Charlie, but I haven't exactly seen your brother with a ton of girlfriends recently. Not since he moved to LA when your mother got sick." Alan squeezed his neck gently. "Don't forget what Donny gave up to come back here. He's made sacrifices for this family and he deserves to be happy."
"I know that…" Charlie acknowledged.
"And if Amita could be the cause of that, then we should be happy for him," said Alan insistently. "Even if it hurts."
Charlie let out a breath and shrugged. He knew his father was right. Alan smiled to himself and kissed Charlie's forehead, giving him a brief but warm hug.
It was after two in the morning when Amita finally looked at her watch. Don was smiling at her from his armchair, taking a last sip of wine that had been poured from the second bottle they'd polished off. She admired him for a moment, his eyes bright and deep, as he stared back at her.
They had not stopped talking since she had stayed for the impromptu meal. She had told him about her family and growing up in India before their move the States when she was ten. She spoke about her schooling and her work, her plans for the future. She had even told him about her 'fiancé' in Madras, an arranged situation she conveniently exploited when warding off the amorous advances of the undesirable, and one she completely forgot when the advances were welcome.
Amita had asked Don the questions she had always wondered about him – about his work and the pride with which he served, about his mother. She was surprised that he had spoken so candidly about her and how he missed her. Don was very good at not revealing too much about himself, but whether it was the wine, the lateness of the hour, or (she hoped) the company, he shared with her the great love and responsibility he felt for his family. That, and baseball. She had laughed as he described his finest game in college, complete with a re-enactment of a particularly good hit, his face lit up all the while like a kid's at Christmas.
Neither of them wanted the night to end, but Amita knew it would be tempting fate to continue. One of them would have brought up the fact that they hadn't resolved the issue of Charlie, and that they were making the situation worse by actually having the date that they told him they weren't going through with. Amita didn't wanted to think about that now, preferring to savor the fact that, as 'not-really-a-date-but-let's-face-it-that's-exactly-what-it-was' first dates went, this one was just about perfect. She suddenly had a new appreciation for Larry and his untwinnable moments.
Before it could be spoiled, she reluctantly insisted she had to leave. Don followed her out to her car, a light hand on the small of her back that made her tingle.
"Are you sure you're okay to drive? I can call you a cab," he offered.
"I'm fine, honestly," she replied, knowing her last glass of wine had been more than two hours ago.
She stopped by the driver's door, and turned to face him. "I had a really nice time," she said sincerely.
"Yeah, me too," Don said through a smile he could not hide.
Neither of them moved or spoke for several moments. Amita looked at him carefully, wondering if he was going to kiss her goodnight. She could see in his eyes that he wanted to, but instead he put his hands behind his back and smiled wistfully at her. She knew why. It would be crossing another line, and there was too much unresolved with Charlie for Don to allow that to happen.
Amita reached out her hand, one finger brushing Don's bottom lip lightly, her gaze coming to rest on his mouth for several seconds before she smiled and stared deep into his dark eyes.
"You're one of the good guys, Don," she said softly.
With that, she got into her convertible, and buckled her seat belt. "Goodnight," Amita murmured.
Don's white teeth flashed briefly. "Goodnight."
He watched as she pulled the car away from the curb and drove down the street, his arms still hanging loosely behind his back. With a final gaze at the dark, clear sky he unashamedly grinned to himself before going back inside.
TBC
