Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs, any of the characters of Numb3rs, or anything, really, to do with that show. I'm just not quite awesome enough. I do, however, own the character of Paul.

Characters: Charlie/Amita, with some brief Larry, Don, and Alan

A/N: This marks a lot of firsts for me. This is not only my first Numb3rs fic, but my first fic in years. This is also my first romance fic, though it won't be terribly romantic. The angst is going to take over a lot. I love the show, although I haven't seen as many episodes as some (I started watching at the season finale and have been catching up through repeats). So bear with me, I might make some slips, and I may go back and edit some things based on suggestions. This fic takes place roughly a year after Amita graduates from CalSci; she now teaches computer science there.

Summary: When Charlie finally finds out Amita has a boyfriend, he doesn't think things can get much worse. He thought wrong. Rated M for violence and adult themes.

Shades of Red and Purple

Chapter I: A Little Twist

Professor Charles Eppes was painfully distracted. It was apparent, and it wasn't an unusual thing for the flighty math genius to get lost in his complex thoughts, but to be so lost with unfinished equations still waiting for answers on his board was very unusual indeed. Amita Ramanujan scanned Charlie's dazed form concernedly with her eyes. He had been her teacher, her thesis advisor, and now he was her colleague, and through all the time she had known him, she knew that if he couldn't concentrate on his work then something must be off. "Charlie?" she addressed cautiously, as though afraid to startle him.

His head jerked towards her and his eyes snapped wide. His consciousness went on high alert to compensate for slacking. "Huh? Yes? What?" he shot off rapidly.

"Nothing, you just looked like you were falling asleep on your feet there." She bore a tiny little grin to him, teasing with her expression alone.

Charlie was not conscious of the way he blushed when she smiled at him, he never was. He simply excused himself, "Yeah, sorry, I've got things on my mind." That was the truth, though slightly to the left of the real truth.

Amita could only shake her head at him. "Don't apologize to me, apologize to your chalkboard," she quipped. With that, she slowly turned back to the computer and resumed her work.

The professor took a moment to gaze fondly at the back of her head and quickly went back to work before she noticed. It wasn't long, however, before he was off task again, fiddling with the papers on his desk. He took a loose strip of paper, twisted it, and brought the ends around to meet each other. As he held it this way he stared at it and sniggered. "Amita," he muttered, "Ever seen one of these?"

She spun around in her chair and one eyebrow quirked involuntarily upward. "What, a Mobius strip? Of course. I made a bunch of them when I was little."

"It's a fascinating thing, really," Charlie went on wistfully, amused and momentarily oblivious to the rest of the room. "It's funny how two separate, independent sides can be joined and become one with something so simple as a little twist." He laughed again somewhat nervously and it was really just a release of the built up pressure he felt constricting his chest.

"Yes, it's a riveting concept," Amita sardonically said, "but do you have a point you're driving at?" She crossed her arms and waited. She didn't assume he had a point at all.

Charlie now threw his point out into the open. "Well… I was wondering if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner." He pushed the suggestion out as fast as possible, the words sloshed together and it was almost incomprehensible, but Amita clearly got the picture. The flattered grin on her face made Charlie's blush deepen a whole shade.

"Charlie, that's so sweet…" she said gently, and Charlie was so delighted to hear this that he didn't even wait for her to finish her sentence before rambling off again.

"Really? Fantastic! Actually, I know this really great looking Chinese place around the corner from my house. They just opened recently, and I've really been wanting to try it out, but I didn't want to go alone and…"

Amita cut him off as soon as she could. "Charlie… Charlie. Slow down!" She wrung her hands anxiously as he stuttered to a stop, then went on, "Charlie, what I was trying to say is that that's very sweet, but… I have a boyfriend."

"You do?" Charlie choked, frozen in place like an ice sculpture.

"Yeah, I do," Amita said faintly. "I've been with him for quite a while now, actually, and I recently moved in with him. He's a good man, he looks out for me."

As his heart took a kamikaze dive into his stomach, the only thing Charlie could say to express the pain of it was, "Oh." His head collapsed and he seemed to take a sudden and profound interest in his knees.

Amita rose and delicately laid a hand upon Charlie's shoulder to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Charlie. You're still a good friend to me."

Done staring at his knees, Charlie lifted his head up to his former student and said shortly, "Don't apologize." He took note of her hand on his shoulder, and the way her sleeve fell back towards the crook of her arm. There, around her wrist, something strange came into focus. It was a bruise, an old one apparently in foul hues of purple and green. She pulled her arm away and the sleeve dropped back into place. The move was very subtle, but Charlie could tell it was purposeful too. "I didn't know, it wasn't your fault," he muttered disjointedly, forcing himself to look upon her face and not her arms.

Hiding behind a smile, Amita said, "Alright, no hard feelings then? Good." She fleetingly pretended to look at the clock. "I've got to go." She packed up her things and made her way hastily towards the door.

Charlie sadly watched her go and tried in vain to convince himself that he hadn't seen anything. Something was very wrong here, he knew it, but he wasn't so sure he was ready to deal with it.