Whoops, I forgot the disclaimer. ahem The characters of NUMB3RS belong to the writers and producers at CBS, not me. Thank you.

Chapter 2

Three hours later, they were strolling along the pier, stuffed full of hot dogs and ice cream. Terry pulled the last pink strand of cotton candy off the paper cone and tossed the cone in a garbage bin. "Mmm."

Don gave her a fond smile. "I never knew you liked that stuff so much."

"We went to the state fair every year when I was a kid. Cotton candy was the highlight as far as I was concerned." She licked the last bit off her fingers. "That and the ferris wheel, even if my brother did insist on rocking the car back and forth just to scare me."

He chuckled, one of those low rumbles from his chest that she loved so much. "We can ride the ferris wheel and I can take your brother's role, if you want to make the experience complete."

She shot him a mock glare. "No thanks."

They had walked down to the end of the long Santa Monica Pier and about halfway back. The pier was a kind of perpetual carnival, complete with amusement park rides, arcades, and tacky souvenir shops. It was the kind of place that you usually only went to if you

had out-of-town guests, unless you lived close by. Terry had only come once or twice, but she'd always had a good time. And it was a nice, public setting, far from the intimate awkwardness of a dimly lit restaurant or Don's apartment.

Not that things were awkward between them at all. No, they had had a really good time, just walking and talking and eating. "Thanks, Don," she said as they came to a stop and turned towards the water.

"For what?"

"For taking me here. I'm having a great time. It's just what I would have wanted for my last night." To the south, around the curve of the bay, the lights periodically rising into the sky from LAX reminded her that she would be on one of those planes in less than twelve hours.

"Good, I'm glad."

After a moment, she turned her head to find him staring at her. Self-consciously tucking her hair behind her ear, she asked, "What is it?"

He was looking at her as though he was trying to make up his mind about something. Then he gave a half smile and turned back to the water, leaning his well-muscled forearms on the wooden railing. "Do you remember when I came back to Los Angeles?"

"Yes, I do." Not under the best circumstances, as she recalled. She'd been torn between being glad to see her old friend again, and sorrowful as to the circumstances that had brought him there. Even though Don didn't say it, not until months later, she knew his mother had to be in pretty poor health for him to uproot himself like that. Scuttlebutt had said that he was even willing to take a cut in pay grade and privileges, though it hadn't come to that. Don wasn't exactly one to climb the promotion ladder for its own sake, but it would have had to be serious for him to consider taking a step down.

"Do you remember what you said to me?"

Her heart started pounding harder, even though she knew it was silly. "I'm sure I said a lot of things to you, Don."

"We had gone out to dinner to catch up. It was just around the corner from your apartment. Still the best Thai place I know of." He shifted his weight a little. "We went up to your place and talked a while longer. And it was so ... it was so good to talk to you again, Terry, and to be with you again."

He drew a deep breath and continued to look out over the water, the breeze ruffling the short strands of hair sticking up from the top of his head. "I never told you this, but I was on the verge of asking you out then. Just, you know, a casual date to see if we could pick up where we left off. I mean, we broke up when we left Quantico because we were being separated to different offices, not because anything really went wrong between us."

She folded her hands tightly over the wooden railing. "Weren't you pretty seriously involved with Kim?"

"It was already over before I moved back here. We just ... I guess we'd moved too fast, and the more we got to know each other, the

more we realized it wasn't going to work. My moving away was the excuse we both needed. And then I saw you again, and ..." He trailed off.

"And then I told you to buzz off." Now she clearly remembered what he was talking about.

"No, you didn't." He gave her a quick, sideways glance. "You were telling me about the L.A. field office, and how hard it was being one of the only women, and that you'd never date someone who you worked with."

"I didn't mean you!" She hurriedly went on, "I mean, I didn't mean it as a way to brush you off. I didn't even think there was anything to brush off."

"But you were right, Terry. It wouldn't have been appropriate. And I know this job can be harder for a woman, and being involved with your partner who's technically senior to you wouldn't have helped." He turned to face her then, leaning against the railing on one elbow. "So I didn't think any more of it."

The lights of the city were behind him, which made it hard to read his eyes. She was sure her own conflicting emotions were visible all over her face. "Well, at least you haven't been pining away for me all these years," she said lightly.

The corner of his mouth quirked. "Not pining," he said softly. "More like wondering."

Her mouth went dry. She went to lick her lips, and was unnerved further when his gaze shifted to her mouth. "I suppose I've wondered myself from time to time," she quietly replied. A lot more often in the past couple of weeks, but he didn't really need to know that.

"See, the thing is ... " He looked down, and she was suddenly struck with a vision of what he must have looked like as an unsure teenager. "I grew up here, you know, and I remember hanging out here in Santa Monica, and I always thought it would be a great place to bring a date. So that's where I was going to ask you to come."

"Talk about coming full circle," she murmured. He looked up, and she gave him a warm smile. "It's been a great date, Don."

He shook his head. "It hasn't been a date."

Her stomach dropped. So much for correctly interpreting what he was saying. Some psychologist she was.

He must have seen her dismayed expression, because he gave her a quick smile and laid a hand over hers on the railing. "No, see, I didn't get all nervous ahead of time or spend half an hour deciding what shirt to wear. And I definitely didn't clean out my car."

She couldn't suppress a grin. He was so good at those little comments that instantly put someone at ease, whether an interview subject or a friend. In fact, she was so at ease that she made an automatic rejoinder without thinking about the consequences. "And there hasn't been any kissing, so it definitely isn't a date."

"That could be arranged." His hand tightened over hers, and she drew in a breath at the look on his face. All of the light-heartedness had gone, and he was regarding her with the same kind of intense stare he usually reserved for a recaltricent witness or some other puzzle he was trying to unravel.

She swallowed. "Could it?" she asked softly, aware that her hand underneath his had started to sweat just a bit.

He took a step closer. "If you want," he murmured. She could tell he was trying to keep his tone light, but there was a vulnerability underlying his words.

And it was that slightest bit of hesitation on the part of the ultra-confident Don Eppes that gave her the courage to lean forward and press her lips against his.

His mouth was as warm and soft as she remembered, and right now tinged with just the faintest touch of chocolate from the ice cream they'd had earlier. As they pressed their bodies closer to each other, she thought she heard a wolf whistle from a group of teenagers walking past them. Don's mouth curved into a smile against hers, and she responded in kind.

Some time later they pulled apart, and she could see the same expression on his face that she felt on her own: half content and half desirous. His arms had somehow slipped around her, and her hands had found their way to the back of his neck. "So are you still wondering?" she asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

His face took on a look of mock seriousness. "A little. We might need to do that again, just to be sure."

"Oh, I see." The grin started at the corners of her mouth, and was swallowed up as he pulled her closer to him for another kiss. This one went on a little longer, and was a little deeper, and it set off a little frisson of something that she hadn't felt in a long time.

This time, the look in his eyes was definitely more on the side of desire than contentment. His arms tightened around her as he said quietly, "I'm starting to wish this wasn't so public a place." He gave his head a slight jerk to indicate the gaggle of teens who had passed them by, but not without another catcall or two.

"I would ask, 'your place or mine,' but I think the answer's pretty apparent," she gently teased.

He smiled. Then he lifted one hand and pushed the hair back from her face, tracing a line down her cheek. "Terry, what do you want?" he asked softly.

That's the problem, she thought, staring up into his warm brown eyes. I want too many things I can't have. I want you and I want to stay here. And I know I can only have one of those, if that.

Aloud she said, "I think ... I think I want to know what I'm missing."

His smile turned sad. "Yeah," he whispered. "That's kinda what I was thinking, too."

His hand slid behind her neck and pulled her towards him for another kiss. When they came up for air, she drew in a deep breath. "Don, what do you want?"

He was quiet for a moment, his hand gently stroking her hair. "For some reason, I've got Bob Seger running through my head." She gave him a quizzical look, and he softly sang, "'We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?'"

Yeah, that sounded about right. But there was something in his eyes, some reason he was hesitating. So she asked, "But...?"

"It's just -- " He sighed. "I guess I'm just afraid that this will mean too much, you know? That we're better off wondering. Or maybe we're better off trying it and finding out it won't work, which is what I'm half hoping will happen here out of some kind of emotional self-preservation."

"Are you saying you hope the sex is bad?"

He stared at her, and she could feel her cheeks begin to flame as she clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, God, that was a little presumptuous, wasn't it?"

He pulled her towards him, tucking her head under his, and she could feel the chuckle rumbling in his chest. Come on Terry, don't beat around the bush. Just say what you mean."

She lightly smacked his chest. "Not funny," she muttered, but she felt her lips curving into a smile, relieved that he had taken her slip-up so well.

His chest rose and fell under hers. "But you do know what I mean?" he asked, suddenly serious.

She pulled back to look into his eyes. "Yes, I do. But Don, we're friends. We were friends before we became lovers, and we've been friends again for a long time. I don't think that's going to change, no matter what happens tonight."

"Still, here we are," he half-said, half-sang. "Both of us lonely..."

She snuggled up against him. "Not right now."

He looked down at her for another moment. "If you're sure."

"As sure as you are."

He let go and took a step back, grabbing her hand as he did so. "C'mon. We have the whole car ride home to talk ourselves out of it if we want."

She smiled and started forward with him.

And as it turned out, the car ride home didn't change a thing.