Oh no, it's the end! Just a tidy epilogue to finish things off. Thanks again for all of your reviews and encouragement. The story will be archived in its entirety at the CalSci Library when it comes online this weekend.

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Epilogue

Wednesday, March 31, 2005

Don folded his arms and leaned back against the cinder-block hallway, watching through the glass pane in the classroom door. Charlie had foregone the chalkboard for the overhead projector, since his crutches made it impossible for him to move and write at the same time. Fortunately, it was only a sprained ankle, but a bad enough one that the doctor thought crutches were a good idea for the next week or two.

He shifted his weight and winced at the slight twinge of pain in his ribs. That, too, was a minor injury, from that last boulder falling against his side as they were trapped on the balcony. All in all, they'd been quite lucky. Not as unscathed as Terry and Penneman, who'd driven down the hill before the slide started. But then, he supposed the 25 years to life that Penneman and Storper were looking at could hardly be considered as being unscathed.

There was a flurry of movement in the classroom: notebooks being closed and backpacks picked up. Don checked his watch. It was only 2:52, but it looked like they'd had enough calculus for the day.

After the students had streamed out, he entered the room. Charlie was balancing on one foot while he organized the slides he'd been writing on. "Should I report you for letting your class out early?" Don teased, adjusting the folder he held under his arm.

"Nah, they're amazed I'm here at all. I mean, that I'm trying to teach with crutches and everything. It's difficult to have to write in such a small space instead of having the entire chalkboard, but I can have a lot more eye contact with the students, and I don't have to talk over my shoulder."

"I'm glad it's not cramping your teaching style."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "No, that was what the reporters were doing."

"Reporters?" He played dumb, wanting to know what his brother would have to say.

"Yeah, just a few of them wanting to hear some details about the whole landslide thing. No big deal." He finished stacking the transparencies and turned to face him.

Yep, he was completely unable to toot his own horn. "No big deal? The L.A. Times, the New York Times, Newsweek? From what I hear, you're quite the hero on campus."

"If you're hearing that from Larry, I think it's exaggerated."

"No, I don't think it is at all. You risked your life to prove a man innocent. That was an incredibly brave thing to do."

Charlie shrugged and toyed with the cap on the overhead marker. "I didn't know I was risking my life at the time."

He sighed. "Yeah. Look, Charlie, I -- I came by to tell you I think it's best if you lay off the consulting for a while. I've been thinking about it, and I think there are better uses of your time. You've got classes to teach, your own research to do -- "

"Don, it's my ankle that's injured, not my brain."

"It's just that you're not a trained agent. You're not equipped to handle situations like last week. If it wasn't for that security guard seeing you on the camera . . . " His voice trailed off. The nightmare where Charlie's head disappeared from view under a pile of mud and rocks had already left Don bolting upright in bed twice in the last week, alternating with the one where he arrived at Crescenta Court just in time to watch his brother being blown to bits.

"So I'm supposed to stop being useful? Just so you don't have to worry about me? Don, I'm far more likely to get doored while riding my bike home that I am getting hurt on one of your cases. Besides, I would have probably done this anyway for Larry, and then I wouldn't have had any FBI connections at all. So you see, I'm actually safer if I'm working with you."

"How many times has someone opened their car door into you, anyway?"

"Twice. But I've only been kidnapped once."

Don shot him his best "be serious" glare. "Charlie, how are you? For real?" His brother had refused to talk to a psychiatrist, even Terry, all week. Don didn't know for sure what it was like to suddenly be thrust into the violent world that he himself encountered on a fairly regular basis, but he was sure it wasn't good for the psyche.

"I'm fine, Don. I'll heal." He gestured towards his ankle, although something in his voice indicated a deeper meaning to his words. "But it helps to be doing something, you know? That's why I want to keep working with you."

"You've never had trouble coming up with things to do in the past. There's lots of theorems still to be proved."

Charlie shrugged one shoulder and reached over to pick up the crutches leaning against the chalkboard. "I like it. I like the immediate result, knowing that I've finished something that can be of instant use and doesn't have to go through the peer review process first. Not that I'm turning away from abstract mathematics, just that it's helpful to do some applications once in a while. I think I might have even gotten Larry interested."

"Great, that's all we need, two of you around the office." Don kept his tone light. Then the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at his brother. "I am proud of you, you know. You stood your ground and fought for what you knew was right, even when I was being a pain in the ass."

"Don, if I stopped doing things just because you were being a pain in the ass, I wouldn't have gotten to where I am today." He blocked Don's mock punch surprisingly quickly with a crutch. "Can you help me carry my notes back to my office?"

"Yeah, sure." He picked up the pile and strode back to hold the door open. "Actually, if you're serious about getting back in the saddle, there is a little something I could use your help with."

"Yeah?" Charlie swung out into the hallway, the creaking of the crutches keeping pace with him. "What about?"

"It's another fraud case. We tried that algorithm you gave us last time, but it's not coming up with anything."

"The parameters might need to be tweaked. Do you have the data?"

"It's right here." He indicated the folder he'd been carrying around.

Charlie didn't say anything, just grinned.

Don acknowledged his brother's smile with a quirk of his own lips. Yeah, he didn't seriously think he would have been able to talk Charlie out of his consulting work. Come to think of it, he didn't really want to. "You know, there's a lot of pressure to get this done as quickly as possible."

"Yeah? It's a big case?" Charlie was digging into his pocket for the key to his office.

"No, uh, David started a little office pool about how long it would take you to crack it. I'll split my winnings with you if you make me rich."

Charlie gave him a reproachful look, then opened the door and hobbled inside. "What did you give me? Three days? Four?"

"Twelve hours." When Charlie stared at him, incredulous, he went on, "Hey, Terry picked fifteen, and I had to have the lowest time. Family pride and all that. So come on, get cracking."