A/N: Again, my apologies for taking so long. I've had this chapter written for about a week, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I've since given in and decided to post it anyway. Next one's about halfway finished, so hopefully it'll be up before too long. Thank you for your patience and reviews! I appreciate both!--Love, D
The Odds of Human Nature
Chapter Five: Friends and Family
Don and Alan stood looking out the kitchen window at Charlie and Alison. They weren't spying, exactly, merely observing. The happy pair was sitting side by side in a couple of lawn chairs, the plastic creaking threateningly beneath them with every move they made. Alison had challenged Charlie to a game of thumb war and they'd been playing for ten minutes now with huge silly grins on their faces as they tried and failed to pin down the other's thumb. The backyard was filled with their laughter intermixed with their quiet murmurings, and while Don didn't know what they were saying to each other, he couldn't remember ever seeing that particular glow in his brother's eyes.
Alan sighed, slinging an arm over his eldest son's shoulders. "Have you ever seen anything more heart-warming?"
"Yeah."
His dad gave him a gentle shake. "Cynic."
Don watched them for a few more seconds, then shrugged. "I admit, he looks happy."
"That's because he is. Come on, help me finish up with dinner."
Don nodded, keeping his eyes on the window for a moment longer before turning to give his dad a hand.
"Charlie, would you check on the chicken?" Alan yelled through the open door and the couple started as if suddenly remembering that there were other people in the world.
"Got it!" he called back and kissed Alison on the cheek before going over to the grill. He turned the chicken, slopped on another layer of barbecue sauce, then returned to Alison. "Now, where were we?"
"We were discussing your spectacular failure in the pool today," Alison said with a teasing grin, taking a sip of beer from the bottle in her hand.
"I wouldn't call it a 'spectacular' failure. It was only my second lesson. After you tried to drown me last time, you're lucky I even got in the pool."
"I did not try to drown you!" she laughed, pushing against his shoulder. He immediately caught her hand, refusing to release it.
"You did so try to drown me. You said you weren't going to let go!"
"It took you thirty seconds before you even realized that I wasn't holding on. You were floating just fine, until you panicked."
"I didn't panic!" he protested.
"You were flailing around like a fish on a hook," she said, sea-green eyes dancing with amusement, "right up to the point you realized the water was only four feet deep and you could stand."
Charlie's face flushed a bright red. "You could have told me."
"I did tell you. I said I wasn't letting you into the deep end until you could swim."
"And since you weren't holding on, for all I knew, I'd floated into the deep end."
Alison pulled him forward with her captive hand. "You really think I would let anything happen to you?" she asked, brushing her lips across his, Charlie's mind immediately going blank as he smiled at her. "Who would I get to balance my checkbook if you drowned?"
Brown eyes widened, then narrowed playfully. "Just for that, I'm taking away your beer."
"No!" Alison screeched as Charlie lunged for the drink in her hand, knocking the two of them out of their chairs and onto the grass. Laughing, Alison held the bottle just out of his reach while trying to push him away. Charlie managed to pin her free arm down and with a final stretch, grabbed the bottle.
"Ha!" he grinned triumphantly, rolling off of her and sitting up to finish off the beer in one swallow.
"Meanie," she grumbled, then rolled over and grabbed the beer he'd abandoned.
"Hey!"
She just smirked and finished off his drink.
"You two kids playing nice or do I need to turn the hose on you?" Alan chuckled as he carried a plate over to the grill for the chicken.
"Hmm. . . I vote hose," Alison said with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. "I like it when you're wet."
"Ali!" Charlie gasped with a mortified look at his father, but Alan just grinned at her.
"Say the word, and I'll get it out."
"Dad!"
"Chicken's almost done. Why don't you show Alison where she can get cleaned up and then dinner will be served."
Charlie stood up and helped Alison to her feet. He showed her the way to the guest bathroom and used the kitchen sink to wash the dirt from his hands and arms.
"You two looked like you were having fun out there," Don said as he added tomatoes to the salad.
"I know I was," Charlie said, grinning at his brother. "I can't help it, Donny. I feel so much more alive when she's around."
"Yes, you laugh, you play," Don gave his brother a look out of the corner of his eye, "you drink."
"Just one!" he said, defending himself against the accusation in his brother's tone. "I don't like not being able to think clearly and not have my entire mind waiting at my fingertips. One doesn't hurt that. Besides, Alison says I'm too much of a lightweight to handle anything more."
"Yeah, well, that's one thing she's right about."
Charlie turned to stare at his brother until Don ceased his pretense of tossing the salad and met his eyes. "You don't like her very much, do you?"
He sighed, breaking Charlie's gaze. "It isn't that I don't like her. I'm just worried about the person you are with her."
"You mean happy? Uninhibited? Able to push aside the ceaseless flow in my head and gain some peace, even if it's just for a few seconds? I thought that's what you wanted for me."
"It is. But does it have to be through her?"
"If not her, it'll be someone else."
"Yeah, someone who could appreciate you better than she can."
Charlie sighed as grabbed a stack of plates to take to the dining room table. "Mom would have liked her."
"Oh yeah? How do you know?"
"I think I'd know better than you," he snapped and at the flash of pain across Don's face, instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry. I don't want to pick a fight with you. I just want you to believe me when I say this is a good thing, and that Alison is good for me."
Don looked into his brother's eyes and saw the need for approval Charlie so desperately wanted. He knew that if he continued to show a dislike towards Alison, eventually Charlie would give her up just to keep the peace between them. He also knew that doing so would make his brother miserable, and he didn't want to be responsible for that. He reached out a hand and placed it on his brother's shoulder. "I believe you, buddy. I'm sorry."
A second passed, and then Charlie's face broke into an irrepressible grin. "Thanks Donny."
"You're welcome. Now let's get the rest of these dishes on the table."
As if they'd been waiting for their cue, both Alison and Alan chose that moment to return to the kitchen.
"You got everything?" Alan asked.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Alison asked.
"Grab that bowl of coleslaw," Don said, smiling at her, "and I think that's the last of it."
"Great," she said, returning his smile, and carrying their separate burdens, they all filed into the dining room to eat.
Charlie sent his brother a silent 'thank you' as he passed and Don regretted being such an ass to Alison when treating her nice was able to bring such joy to his brother's eyes. After all, it wasn't Alison's fault. He knew better than anyone you couldn't choose your family. He just hoped she'd be able to protect Charlie from hers.
"What's that noise?" Cameron asked and Alison shifted the phone to her other shoulder to stretch the crick in her neck.
"I'm programming Charlie's house number into my cell and I'm trying to find the right song for it."
"Give him mine."
"Nah," she grinned, "Beck suits you."
"Like hell. I deserve something more enlightened."
"I can do Mozart's Requiem."
"Ha ha. I was thinking the Star Wars theme. I am an astronomer after all."
"You're staying 'E-Pro'," Alison said, a slight frown on her face as she tried to think of an appropriate tune for her boyfriend. "It's Sunday, isn't it? Why are you at school? What are you working on?
"Who said I'm working?"
"Don't tell me you've got the binoculars out again."
"It's a beautiful sunny day and all the dorms have emptied out onto the lawn. What do you think?"
"I think you need to find a hobby."
"This is a hobby."
"It's a creepy hobby."
"It's a creepy hobby you used to participate in."
Alison heaved a remarkably sappy sigh. "That was in the old days, before I found love."
"Yes. You've gotten a lot duller since then."
"But I'm happy."
"I know. It's disgusting. So, things still going well?"
"Couldn't be better. Even his brother is starting to warm up to me."
"Will wonders never cease."
"What about 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'?" Dead silence on the other end. "Okay, I'll take that as a 'no'."
"Good guess," came Cameron's wry and slightly distracted voice.
Alison rolled her eyes. "Forget a hobby. We need to get you laid."
"To live vicariously through you is enough for me."
"No wonder your eyes are glued to the windows."
"Still a no-go on the physical, huh?"
"We're taking our time."
"In this day and age? No such thing."
"Tell that to Charlie," she said, a light note of discontent in her tone.
"Maybe he's waiting for you to make the first move."
"Yeah, sure, and then I do make the first move and scare him away and I never see him again and I'm back to ogling pretty young things out the windows with you. But on my campus, not yours, because my young things are prettier."
"Your campus is larger. You have more options."
"And we have sports."
"Rub it in, why don't you? I don't suppose 'mathletes' count as athletes?"
"Not in this lifetime, sweetheart. But I'm not worried about it coming to that. I'm happy to wait patiently for Charlie to be ready."
"While keeping Mr. Buzzy and his extra batteries in your beside table."
"Hey, don't knock him. Mr. Buzzy's one of two reasons why I can afford to be patient."
"And the other reason?"
Again the sappy sigh. "I'm in love."
"Good thing I haven't had lunch yet," Cameron grumbled, only to be startled a second later by her friend's triumphant shout.
"I've got it! I've found the perfect song for Charlie."
"Great. Tell me when I've switched ears since I've somehow gone deaf in this one."
"Give me a second," she said, pressing a few buttons on her phone. "There we go--I've assigned 'Float On' to Charlie's home number."
"'Float On'?"
"Inside joke," she grinned, shutting her cell.
"Your entire life is an inside joke."
"Considering you know most of the punch lines, you really shouldn't say anything."
"Excellent point," Cameron said, then sighed. "All right, I think it's time for me to get back to work. We still on for lunch tomorrow?"
"Absolutely."
"And no seeing Charlie until after we've eaten. That's a mistake I'll only make once."
"Agreed," Alison said, turning at the sound of a key in her side door. "Well, whaddya know, I think Stephen's here."
"Were you expecting him?"
"Do I ever?"
"Mmm. . . maybe I should head over there with the binoculars."
"Hey, that's my brother you're drooling over."
"Tell me about it," Cameron said, and Alison rolled her eyes.
"See you tomorrow," she said, hanging up the phone just as Stephen stumbled inside, hauling with him what looked to be all his worldly possessions and bags under his bloodshot eyes deep enough to fit it all. She couldn't remember the last time her golden younger brother looked so washed out. His skin had a grey tinge beneath its tan and she figured if he lifted up his shirt, she'd be able to count all his ribs. He was definitely on the verge of a breakdown. "So, 'pollo, are you exhausted, strung out, on a break, or do you just need to do laundry?"
"Hello yourself, Spitfire," he said, dropping all the bags onto the living room floor. "Good to see you, too. And the answer to your question is 'all of the above'."
"You look like crap," she said, giving her brother a hug. He was a good four inches taller than her and had to bend over to kiss her cheek.
"You've never looked better," Stephen said, pulling back to actually get a total view of his sister and gave her an appraising look. "You know, you really do look amazing. Is there something I'm missing?"
Alison just smiled at him a secret sort of smile and the sea-green eyes a shade darker than her own turned calculating.
"All right, what's up?"
"Nothing," she said with feigned innocence. "Nothing that can't wait. Go on, get some sleep. You're about to keel over. We can talk when you wake up."
Stephen hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Sounds good," he said and was halfway to the bedroom when he turned to look at her with suspicious eyes. "You're not making me an uncle, are you?"
"No," she laughed and he grinned with relief.
"Then I'm off to bed. Don't. . . don't tell them I'm here."
"You know I won't," Alison said, waiting until the door was shut before reaching for her cell. Just as she was about to pick it up, it began playing 'Float On' and she grinned. It really was the perfect song. "Charlie, I was just about to call you."
"You were?" he asked, sounding surprised that anyone would be just about to call him.
"Yeah, listen, I need to cancel tonight. Stephen just showed up and I should probably stay in and catch up with him, make sure he hasn't done anything requiring immediate legal counsel."
"Um. . . okay, that's probably a good idea."
Alison smiled fondly into the phone. "That was a joke, Charlie. I hope. But I'm going to lunch with Cameron tomorrow, so how about I stop by afterwards and tell you how much I miss you?"
"I think I like the sound of that," he said, relieved to be back on familiar ground.
"And then maybe sometime this week, you can meet Stephen."
Charlie gulped. "Yeah. . . sure. . . that'll be. . . nice."
"Don't worry," she chuckled. "Stephen's the one you don't have to fear. It's the others who will eat you alive."
"You're really not helping."
"It'll be fine, Charlie, I promise."
Charlie stared at his phone after hanging up with Alison and sighed. "Shit."
"Something wrong, Charles?" Larry asked, peering at him over the top of his laptop's screen.
"Alison's brother showed up and she wants me to meet him."
"Which one?"
"The youngest, I think. The musician."
"Ah, well then, you shouldn't have a problem."
"Why?"
"Because he's a musician," Larry said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"You know that makes no sense, don't you?"
"Sure it does. He's a man ruled by passion, and once he sees how much you love his sister and how much she loves you, the last thing he'll want to do is stand in your way."
Charlie's eyes took on a deer-in-the-headlights expression as he stared down at the physicist.
"Wait a minute. Can we back up just a second?" he said, sitting down in front of his friend and moving the laptop over so he could see Larry's face. "Did you say love?"
"Charlie," Larry said, using the same patience of tone he reserved for his students, "it's obvious."
Charlie shook his head, trying to process this seemingly new piece of information. "But it. . . you aren't. . . we can't. . ." The stammering ceased and he looked up at Larry with a new light in his eyes. "Do you really think so?"
He sighed. "You're both so completely head over heels for each other it's almost physically impossible to be in the same room with you without wanting to knock your heads together."
"Gee, Larry, that's the sweetest thing you've ever said," Charlie teased, and the physicist gave him a patronizing look.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you haven't realized this by now."
"How could I?" he shrugged. "I've never been in love before."
"It's as good a time to start as any."
"Yeah," he said softly, his eyes contemplative, "I guess it is. Unless her brother decides to hate me."
"As her brother, he has that right, but I don't think he will. Even if he does, do you really think it will matter to Alison?"
"No, I guess not. Not Alison."
"So you have nothing to fear."
"I hope you're right," Charlie said, then shook his head, musing aloud with a silly grin on his face as he sat back in his chair. "Love. I never would have thought. . . Wow. Love. You know, I think you're right. I think you're absolutely right. I'm in love. I'm in love! I'm in love with Alison!"
"Yes, Charles, you're in love with Alison. Unless there's someone else out there you haven't told me about."
"No, there's just Alison. I only love Alison. I love her," he grinned. "Thanks for pointing it out to me, Larry."
The physicist just sighed and pulled the laptop back in front of him so he didn't have to witness his genius friend's dopey expression. "Now I know why women complain about us all the time," he muttered, prepared to ignore the rest of Charlie's love-struck murmurings for the rest of the day.
A light knock disturbed his sleep and Stephen stirred himself long enough to look up as his sister opened the door.
"You hungry?"
He considered the various aches in his body and nodded. "Famished."
"Good. I've ordered Chinese. Should be here in about fifteen minutes."
"You really need to learn to cook," he said, groaning as he forced himself to sit up. "It's healthier."
Alison didn't say anything. She just gave him a look clearly stating her opinion on his ideas of what should and should not be considered healthy, and he glared at her.
"Shut up, mom."
"Speaking of--"
"We weren't," he interrupted before she could finish.
Alison grinned. "Just teasing. Why don't you go take a shower, there are clean clothes in the dresser, and I'll try not to eat all the pineapple from the sweet and sour chicken before you get out?"
He stared at her, expression quizzical. "Was that a question, a suggestion, or a threat?"
"You decide."
Alison disappeared and Stephen sighed, a soft smile on his face. Of all his family, Alison was the only one who managed to successfully combine being judgmental and loving. Everyone else just managed to come off as judgmental. He knew he was still due for an interrogation, but from Ali, he could take it. He just hoped she took pity on him and didn't probe too deeply. He didn't want to keep secrets from her, but he would if he had to.
"Hey Spitfire," Stephen said, emerging twenty minutes later from the bathroom sparkling clean and in sweatpants, "your shampoo smells like flowers. What's up with that?"
"It's shampoo scented with flowers. Do you need any more explanation?"
"Yeah. Since when do you want to smell like flowers?"
"It was on sale," she shrugged, popping a piece of pineapple into her mouth.
"Right," he said, sliding onto the floor in front of the coffee table and leaning his back against the sofa. He didn't believe that for a second. For almost her entire life, Alison had smelled like sunshine, saltwater, and sunscreen. Even on her prom night, the scent of SPF 45 had followed her through the air. No, something was definitely up.
"'pollo, you're dripping water everywhere," she scolded as she moved to sit down behind him. She removed the towel from around his neck and began rubbing the excess drops from his head.
"It's water. It'll dry," he said, grabbing a white box and digging through it for the remaining pineapple, but she didn't seem to hear him. She was too busy tsking over the state of his hair.
"You haven't been taking care of yourself."
"That's your job," he said, looking up at her with an over-the-top adoring smile.
Not buying it for a second, Alison lightly whacked him across the side of his head. "When you're done eating, I'm giving you a haircut."
"You're not cutting my hair!"
"Yes, I am. It needs it."
"The last time I let you cut my hair, you just kept cutting and cutting until it was almost all gone."
"I couldn't get it evened out!" she said, not looking terribly apologetic. "Besides, it looked fine in the end."
"Yes, my bald stage was quite memorable." Alison stuck out her lower lip, giving him the hurt puppy-dog look, and he sighed. "I could probably use a new look anyway."
"Yay!" She clapped her hands with the excitement of a six-year-old getting to play dress-up with her mother's clothes, and he rolled his eyes.
"Admit it. You didn't miss me, you just missed playing with my gorgeous blond locks," he said, dramatically flipping his shoulder-length hair over his shoulder and sending a spray of water her way.
"Blame our parents," she said, brushing the drops off her arm. "You're the only Barbie I ever had."
"Oh, you're funny."
"Quiet, Barbie, and hand me an egg roll," Alison said, sliding down onto the floor next to him. "So, do you want to go first?"
He thought about it for a moment, then his shoulders slumped a little as whatever fight he had eased out of him. It was probably best to get the questions out of the way early. "Sure, why not. Let me just recall the main points. There's been sex, drugs, and. . . oh, yeah, rock and roll. I think that covers it. Your turn."
"Not quite," she said, pointing at him with the tips of her chopsticks. "Diseases?"
"Geez, sis, don't hold back or anything."
"Diseases?"
"Zilch."
"When were you last tested?"
"Two weeks ago."
"Hmm. . . well, we can always get you retested. Drugs?"
"Egg roll?" he offered in an attempt to change the subject, her look telling him exactly what she was planning on doing with that egg roll if he didn't cooperate. He sighed. If it was anyone else, he would have walked out ten minutes ago, but he knew he owed Ali the truth. "Been clean for eight and a half days."
"Better than nothing. Girlfriend?"
"Which one?"
"Void question. Band?"
Silence.
"Band?" she insisted.
"I think the sad day has come when White Rabbit's Revenge has finally bit the dust."
She nodded but didn't push for details. He would tell her in his own good time, as he always did. "You know you can stay here as long as you want."
"Thanks, but I don't think I'll be here long. We done?"
"You've been moderately cooperative, so I'm going to let you off the hook for now."
"You're a peach," he said, nudging her in the side with his elbow, and she nudged him back. "And now it's your turn. What's new in your life?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Teaching, diving, surfing, hours and hours of research I've been putting off for too long."
"Any dating?"
"Possibly," she said, and he could tell from the flush of pleasure on her face and the smugness of her smile this was where the true story was to be found.
"Is it serious?"
"Some might say that."
Stephen's eyes grew wide. "Spitfire, you've been holding out on me! You don't date anyone seriously!"
"I do now."
"Finally stopped wandering, huh?" he asked, the lightness of the question overweighed by the seriousness of its meaning, and she smiled at him.
"What can I say? I found someone worth stopping for."
"I'm glad to hear it," he said, lifting a bunch of noodles into his mouth as he gave her a casual glance. "Do I get to meet him?"
"I don't know." Alison gave her brother a stern look. "You promise to behave?"
"No."
"You promise not to run him off?"
"No."
"You want me to call mom?"
"I shall welcome my new brother with open arms and make him my closest friend so that together we can bring joy to the life of my beloved sister."
She chuckled. "All I really want is for you to give him a chance, but hey, that works too."
Stephen didn't tell her she didn't have to fear about her new beau--in fact, this new boyfriend couldn't have appeared at a better time. He'd make sure he was leaving his big sister in good hands and, if the man passed muster, he'd no longer have to worry about the one person in the world who mattered to him.
"So, are you going to tell me about him or what?" Stephen asked, knowing Alison was ready to burst with impatience to start talking.
"His name is Charlie and he's the sweetest man I've ever met. He's kind, and generous, and has a great heart. He's got these beautiful brown eyes and this gorgeous head of brown curls and the softest lips. . . not that you want those kind of details," she said, quickly moving on. "He's got a quirky sense of humor, and he puts up with mine--"
"Oh, well then, he's definitely a keeper."
She poked him in the stomach. "He's really great, Stephen. I think you'll like him."
"Sounds like a catch so far. What does he do?"
"He's a professor, like me. He teaches mathematics at CalSci."
"Wow. Smart."
"Actually, yeah. He's a genius."
"Really?"
"He puts the entire combined IQ of our family to shame."
"Including Benji?"
"Charlie makes Benji look like a dunce."
"You're right," Stephen grinned. "I like him already."
"There are better reasons to like him."
"That's the only reason I need," he said dreamily, resting his head on Alison's shoulder.
"I think I'll take it. I've gotta have one of you on my side."
"Spitfire, I'm always on your side."
"I know, 'pollo," she said, wrapping an arm around him and stroking his hair. "And I'm always on yours."
That's what I'm counting on, Stephen thought as he stared pointedly ahead of him, avoiding his sister's sea-green gaze or risk ruining everything.
(Completed May 20, 2005)
