First off, let me say thank you to everyone who read and didn't review (I'm not being sarcastic. Lord knows I do it often enough, and you reading at all is fantastic) and an extra-special thank you to everyone who did. You're all wonderful. I never expected this story to get that kind of response. BlushesYou made my week. Anyway, enough with my gushing. Here's chapter 2.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, no characters, no places. . .heck, I don't even know anything.
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my foster sister for her birthday…maybe another year will pound the obvious Don and Terry chemistry into her head. I love ya, Katie!
Chapter 2: A Strange Twist
DAY 1: 42.5 hours left
10:30 p.m.
Don set the steaming Styrofoam cup down in front of his brother. "How's the problem coming?" He asked, glancing over Charlie's shoulder at the complex and alien strings of numbers.
"Okay." Charlie sighed, studying the papers as well. "Thanks for the coffee."
"Any time." Don replied, gripping his brother's shoulder gently. "I'm going to go down to the lobby, push some paper. Are you going to be okay up here alone?"
"David's here." Charlie pointed out, gesturing to the form on the couch. The remote was still clutched in the agent's hand and the television still blared from its stand, but David was fast asleep.
"True." Don replied with a nod. He smiled at him before making his way down to the darkened lobby, lit by only a couple of low-light lamps placed strategically around the room. When he stepped off the elevator, however, he was surprised to discover that he wasn't alone.
"Terry? What are you doing down here?" He asked, recognizing her silhouette immediately, framed against the city glare from the window.
"I'm just . . .relaxing. Enjoying the view." She turned to him, smiling the bright, wide smile that made his stomach jump nervously every time. "It's beautiful."
"Yes, it is." He agreed, managing to keep his tone professional. He moved to stand next to her, watching the bustling street below. He noticed the cup in her hand and the sweet-cream scent flowing from it. "What are you drinking?" He asked, eyeing the cup with some suspicion.
"Just coffee. You want a sip?" She held the cup out to him, filled with the hot creamed-and-sugared drink.
He took a mouthful and made a face. "Girly coffee." He commented, handing the cup back to her.
"Not true. David likes cream and sugar in his coffee too." She laughed.
He felt a pang of jealousy…how did David know what coffee Terry drank and he didn't? He pushed the thought aside as he heard himself answer, "David? That surprises me, for some reason." He turned toward her, leaning against the window.
She smiled at him. "I suppose you like it as black and strong as you can get it."
He shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much. Charlie and my father like it that way, too. Guess it runs in the family."
Her smile faded. "How is Charlie?"
"He's plugging away." Don turned his head to study the glowing windows of an office building across the street. Miniscule people went about their work in the lit windows. "He hasn't slept or eaten since that phone call, and that was . . .what, almost thirty hours ago?"
"Are you worried he'll mess the equation up?" Terry asked softly, following his gaze out the window.
"No, I'm afraid he'll make himself sick." Don replied, dragging a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Don't worry. He'll be fine." Hesitantly, she laid a hand on his arm. "You know how he is. He'll work ceaselessly until he finishes it, then he'll crash."
"I know." Don managed to reply coherently. He glanced down at her hand, resting innocently across the black cotton of his jacketed arm. "Thanks, Terry." He said, reaching across his body to awkwardly lay a hand over hers. He was shocked at how cold her skin was. "You're freezing!" He exclaimed unnecessarily.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "It's a little colder here than in LA." She pointed out, as if this should be obvious.
Without answering, Don pulled off his blazer and draped it around her shoulders. Her eyes widened and she yelped a protest, trying to force it back into his hands. He countered her objections with, "Do you think there's a Chinese place open?"
"Chinese food?" She stopped trying to hand his jacket back and gazed at him in disbelief. "At ten-thirty at night!"
"What can I say? It sounds good." He chuckled. "Want anything?"
"No thanks." She crossed her arms across her stomach, pinning the recently-replaced coat closed. "But, if you'd like some company. . . I'd be glad to ride along." She offered.
"That would be great. But . . .um, you have my keys in my jacket pocket."
41 hours, 15 minutes left
11:15 p.m.
The phone rang shrilly, and Charlie dived for it before the sound could wake David. "Hello?" He called softly into the receiver.
"Call for Mr. Eppes on 312." The hotel receptionist replied in a bored, nasal tone.
"Okay, thank you." Charlie hung up the phone and dialed in to accept the call. "What?" He whispered, assuming it to be his brother.
Instead, a small, scared voice, broken by the static of a cell phone with poor reception, crackled over the line. "Charlie?"
"Yes. Who—Terry? Is that you?"
"Yes, it's me. Charlie, Don hasn't called you or come back yet, has he?"
"No. . ." An iron clamp of fear closed around his stomach. "Why?" He asked, detesting the shaking of his own voice.
"I can't find him anywhere." Terry, normally calm and virtually unshakable, sounded on the verge of tears. "He's gone!"
"Terry, calm down. We're coming." He promised. Despite the calmness in his voice, Charlie's hands were shaking already. He had a bad feeling about this.
"Hang on, Terry. I'll get David." He turned from the wall and called across the small room, "David. David! DAVID!"
The agent merely grunted in his sleep and rolled over. Knowing the phone cord was too short to stretch to the couch where David slept, Charlie threw the nearest thing—a pad of hotel stationary—gently at the man, effectively waking him up. "We've got a problem." He said as calmly as he could.
David was on his feet instantly. "Where are we going?" He wanted to know, pulling off his torn tee shirt and rifling through his suitcase for a button-down.
"Where are you, Terry?" Charlie asked, juggling the phone and the buttons on his own freshly-pulled-on shirt.
"At the China Wok on East Avenue." She replied, and he knew that her calm, professional manner was returning.
"We'll be there soon." He promised, hanging up the phone with a shaking hand.
"Let's go. You can fill me in in the car." David said, grabbing his keys from the bedside table.
By the time they arrived at China Wok, the police had already arrived, their whirling red and blue lights painting the night an eerie purple. Charlie and David hurried up to their pacing colleague, "Terry!"
She spun, then hurried over to them. She was visibly shaken, but she sounded completely rational, as though she were worried crazy but thinking straight. "I'm glad you're here." She said softly, twisting her hands in front of her. "I don't know what to do."
"Relax, first of all. Then tell us what happened." David replied, catching her hands to stop their frantic twisting. He watched her with brotherly concern as she studied the ground, collecting her thoughts.
"He had a crazy craving for Chinese food. So…while we were driving, he phoned in his order. We were just going to pick it up. When we got here, he said to wait in the car while he ran in. We parked just around the corner. He never came back." Tears shone in her eyes, but she lifted her chin, refusing to let them fall.
"Don has his gun. Wherever he is, I'm sure he's fine." Charlie sounded as though he were trying to convince himself as much as her.
"No, he doesn't." Terry pulled her hands free of David's and dug around the inside pocket of the jacket she still wore, producing the gun. "He always takes it off when he drives. . . says it digs into his side. He asked me to hold onto it."
Just as David opened his mouth to speak, a cell phone rang. Simultaneously, they pulled the phones from their pockets, and Charlie let out a yelp. "It's Don!" He exclaimed, pushing the 'receive call' button. "Don? Where are you! We've been worried sick!"
"As well you should be." A voice that wasn't Don's drawled coldly over the line. "I see your equation has been coming along well. I think it's time we. . . raised the stakes a little, don't you?"
"I knew it." A coldness like neither agent had ever heard before crept into Charlie's voice. "You sadistic, twisted-"
"Now, now, Charles. It's all a game, remember? It's all in fun." These words were punctuated by a hard, dry laugh. "You take away what is important to me, I take away what is important to you. Fair is fair and foul is foul."
"Actually, I believe the quote was, 'fair is foul and foul is-"
The caller interrupted again. "Don't be clever, Charles. I suggest you go home and work on that equation. You've got forty-one hours left. Good luck." The line clicked, then died.
Ah, yes. It is so much more fun to be on this side of the cliffhangers. :D Innocent whistling Oh, the drama. Now for personal thanks:
Midnight Dove: Neat name, by the way. Hee, the "put down the marker" was my favorite line from that whole chapter. You can just see poor Don trying to get his brother's attention, can't you? Blushes I'm glad you like it. Thanks!
LeoDiabla: Thank you for your wonderful review, Dylan. I hope this chapter isn't too terribly out of character…I know I'm not very good at romantic scenes, but I wanted to dabble. I know, the marker thing…it's like nails on a chalkboard. And more than a smile, this time…just for you. ;) I thought of you the whole time I was writing that lobby scene. And I have a confession to make: Chrissie is pretty much just me. It was much easier to take myself and throw that into the story than to create a whole other character from scratch, and since I wanted to get the idea down on paper before it flew away…that's what became of it. . I'm so lazy. So McDonald's fries...they're my absolute favorite food in the whole world, therefore, they're Chrissie's. Grab some salt and dig in, girl!
Thanks for pointing out about Charlie's introduction. I had NO idea what to call him (obviously :D). I'll fix that. I'm really touched that you looked so hard just to read my work. I hope this chapter's worth it.
strangexbutxtrue: Thank you. I'm so glad you liked it. I'm also really thrilled that you think my characters aren't too terribly OOC. I hope I didn't ruin that this chapter. It was much harder to write than the last one.
SamuriKnight: I'm glad you like it. Here's some more for you…hope you like it as well as the last one. Thanks for your nice review!
leev: Thank you. I thought the start was fun to write, but this chapter…whew. Calculating all those timings and the countdown clock is about the extent of my mathematics skills. Glad you like the characterizations…they're killers. Really. I hope the fanfiction rises like crazy too. I love to read it as much as I love to write it.
ShadowGraffiti: Thanks so much for your review! I'm glad you're interested. Actually, I almost DIED when I saw your name in the review list. Crimson Failure is one of my very favorite on-going NUMB3RS fics right now. . . I'd love to see some more….hint,hint
I'm hoping that this twist (which came to me at 2:30 this morning. . . . > ) will break the ties of similarity. Your fic is so unique; I never would have thought that mine might run parallel. EEK…sorry about that. My subconscious continues to run my thoughts. And look, I've posted!
wandering ghost: It lives again! I'm so glad you like it! Thank you for your nice words. I am a firm believer that mornings should not exist before 10 a.m. Nods virtuously Too bad most of my decent writing comes at about 3:30 in the morning. .
SharpShooter626: Thank you! Here's some more for you! I kind of aimed for the dramatic aspect, so I'm glad you liked it. I was afraid that it might be a bit too dramatic, and I hope this chapter doesn't fall under that category. Gulps
Teyla Sheppard: I'm glad you stopped in just to review! Thank you! It makes me feel great. Here's some more for you to read. ;)
spittingames: Thank you! I'm glad you liked the first chapter. Hope the second one is good, too.
sammac: Yours was another name on the reviewer list that almost gave me a heart attack. I love "Skewed". So dramatic and awesome…sigh
I'm so glad you like this. And I'm glad you seem to notice my plot . . . especially since it changes all the stinkin' time! (eg, my 3:30 in the morning "raise the stakes" revelation sweatdrop) I need to hire a new muse. Glad the characterizations were noteworthy. As a fellow writer, I'm sure you can more than understand the frustrations that causes sometimes. The whole hallway scene was one of my favorite scenes in the chapter and by far my favorite to write. It was fun. You really think the end was a high point? I'm so glad! I thought it sounded awfully forced and rushed. Good to have someone else's opinion. THANK YOU for your review…it made my morning to wake up today and see it.
THANK YOU, EVERYBODY!