Despite the devestating news that Sabrina Lloyd has left NUMB3RS, I am going to finish this story, and many, many more Don/Terry centric ones. (Sniffs)

Disclaimer: If I owned NUMB3RS, I'd be a lot richer than I am right now. Alas, I don't. Still.

Dedication: To my 100th reviewer, MissCongeniality, who is my #1 fan (as she tells me all the time. It makes me smile every time, girl!) and my co-sobber at the news. We'll cry together, MC. ;)

Chapter 8:

Chinese and Photographs

Bang! Crash! A door slammed, keys were thrown down hard onto a table, and then a light snapped on. A second later, a strangled cry tore from Terry's throat and her hand went reflexively to her hip.

"What the heck, Don! I almost shot you!" She yelped, lowering her weapon.

He grinned at her. "That glad to see me, are you?" He teased.

"Of course I'm glad to see you. I couldn't be happier. But what in God's name are you doing in my room with the lights off?"

"What one usually does in bed with the lights off…sleeping. At least I was—until someone slammed a door and nearly gave me a heart attack."

She gave him an apologetic smile and sank down on the corner of his bed, "Sorry 'bout that."

"No problem." He pushed himself into a semi-reclined position with his good hand. He was still deathly pale, rings of darkness beneath his eyes and streaks of bruises across his handsome face, but he was out of the hospital. And, for that, she was grateful. Terry would take any good she could get in a case like this one. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever's got you so upset. You looked ready to rip into something when you came through that door."

"Not really. How did you get here?"

"Dad and Charlie brought me in about—" He consulted the phone on the bedside table next to his gun and pocket change. "Four hours ago. Where've you been all this time?"

She dodged the question artfully. "You knew you were getting discharged and you didn't tell me?"

"Well, I'd wanted to surprise you, though this scenario isn't quite what I'd had in mind."

"Well, you sure surprised me." She chuckled, then rose. "I'm going to take a very long bath, then we'll talk. Are you hungry?"

"Mmm…getting there." He said thoughtfully.

"How does a pizza sound?" She offered.

"You know, I never did get my Chinese food…"

"Chinese it is." She grinned at him.

Forty-five minutes later, Terry sat cross-legged at the foot of Don's bed, flipping through the phone book, looking for all the world as if she did this every day. Her damp hair clung to her cheeks, which were still pink from the heat of her lavender-scented bubble bath. Clad in pink flannel pajama pants and a matching pink cotton tank top, she looked like a little girl all over again.

"Hello…yes, I'd like to place an order for delivery, please." Don was jolted out of his reverie by the sound of Terry's voice. "Yes, to the Holiday Inn on...yes, that's the one. One order of chicken-broccoli…white rice. And one of…" She glanced at Don, then went on, "sweet and sour chicken…fried rice." There was a slight smile in her voice as she spoke. "On my credit card, please." She rattled off the number, listened for a few more moments, then said, "Thank you" and hung up.

"I hope that was right. That's what you had last time." She told Don, avoiding his eyes.

"You remembered what food I ordered?" He was truly impressed.

"The little things stick in your mind during…something like that. They said fifteen to twenty minutes." She let the phone she'd been playing with fall to the bedcovers.

"Great, I'm starving. Wonder what Dad and Charlie are up to?" He mused aloud.

Terry rose and crossed the room, opening the dividing door between her room and theirs. "Your dad's watching TV and your brother's working on something…he's got his headphones on and there's paper everywhere. He's really into it."

"Is this supposed to be something new?"

She chuckled, waved to Alan (who had just noticed her presence), and closed the door again. "Guess not." She said as she made her way back to the bed and sat back down, tucking her long legs back under her. "So…about that night." She began, smiling sweetly, "You started to ask me something and you promised that you would finish it when you got back."

His dark eyes widened just slightly before taking on a carefully-conjured confused expression. "A question?" He repeated.

"Don…" She said warningly.

"Terry…" He met her gaze evenly. After only a couple of moments, however, he lowered his eyes. He'd had less trouble staring down cold-blooded serial killers.

Fortunately, she now seemed content to let the subject drop. Don was still trying to decide whether he felt relieved or disappointed when a knock came at the doorway ten minutes later. Terry signed the credit card slip, pressed a few dollars into the boy's hand, and closed the door. She handed Don the bag and began hunting for her pink ballet-style bedroom slippers. He caught himself wondering as she pulled them on—when had no-nonsense Terry become so attached to pink. He liked it, though; it was definitely her color.

"Don! Hey, Agent!" She snapped her fingers in an attempt to capture his attention. "Are you okay? If you're tired, we can put this away and eat later."

"No, I'm fine, I was just…thinking." He grinned at her. "What did you ask?"

"What do you want to drink? Coffee, soda, hot tea…anything out of a vending machine, I can get you."

He chuckled. "Coffee, I think. Decaf, black. Thanks, Terry."

"Hey, anytime. Be right back." She edged out the door and patted down the hall, returning in a few minutes with a Diet Coke in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of coffee in the other. She set Don's drink on the table beside him and crawled up onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard and taking a long deep breath.

He smiled at her as he wrestled with the lid of his Chinese food one-handedly. "Something on your mind?"

Yeah, you. The fact that this is all I've been thinking about for ten years, sharing a bed with you, laughing and talking with you, being close to you…nope, there's nothing at all on my mind. She thought viciously, stabbing a spear of broccoli with the plastic fork hard enough that the utensil snapped. She sighed and finally answered Don's question, "No, I'm good. Just tired."

"Well, I'll just call Dad in to help me move, then. I wasn't trying to take over your room, you know,"

"Don…"

I was just sleeping in here so that Dad could watch TV or whatever"

"Don!"

"And Charlie could work without worrying—"

"Don, shut up!" She finally said, laughing. "It's fine, I'm not ready to sleep yet. I was just answering your question, that's all."

"Oh. Okay, then." He dug into his Chinese food happily. "Wow, that tastes great." He commented.

She chuckled. "Glad to hear that, Don. I never knew you were so into Chinese food."

"Yeah, Charlie and I both really like it. I think we got it from our mother; it's not Dad's favorite—" The ring of his cell phone interrupted. Instead of asking his partner to hand it to him, he reached across her body, his fingers just barely brushing the cotton of her tank top, and got it himself. She was still reeling from this shock when she realized that he was talking, "Yes. No, I completely understand. Okay. Okay, thank you. Yes. No, that's fine. Yes. Yes. Okay. Thanks." He hung up and turned to her with a grin. "You'll never guess who that was."

"Hmm…I never was very good at guessing games." She answered, studying the broken tines of her fork.

"That was Miller. He's given me permission to stay on the case. I don't have to go back to LA!" He was clearly overjoyed by the prospect.

Terry's pretty face split into a grin. "Don, that's great!"

He laughed. "Isn't it just?"

"So what did you have to put on the line this time? Your soul?" She teased, referring to Miller's common habit of sentences beginning with, 'If you don't pull this off, Eppes, it'll be your—'

"Just my job." He said, suddenly grave.

"You're not serious." She said, shocked.

"I am. But I know we can pull this off, Terry."

"How long do we have?"

"Two weeks, tops." He popped another bite of chicken into his mouth. "Don't worry so much. We can handle this."

"You hope." She muttered.

"Are you angry with me?" He asked, both surprised and hurt.

"No." She answered, though she wasn't sure if that was the truth. She sighed. "A little, maybe. I know how important this case is to you. Trust me on this. I know. But, Don…your job is your life. You can't just throw that away."

"It's important to me, Terry. Besides, if I lose my job, we won't be co-workers and we can date again."

Her eyes widened. Was she that obvious? Her cheeks flamed bright red behind the curtain of her hair as she ducked her head. Just as she was about to answer, her cell phone rang. She sighed and climbed off the bed to answer, "Agent Lake."

"Evening, Agent. This is Donna Baxter." The voice was composed and warm.

"Hello, Mrs. Baxter. What can I do for you?" Terry asked.

"You asked me to call if I had any news or if anything relevant came up. Well, I don't know if this is relevant, but…I remembered the picture that was in my album now. It was one of Johnnie and Chrissie, just after we brought Chrissie home from the hospital. It's so cute—Johnnie's leaning over her and she's grinning up at him, reaching up with one hand to touch the freckles on his nose—I wonder where it's gone? I know it was in there last week because I met Mary Brinkleton at the supermarket and—"

Terry had stopped listening and was rummaging frantically through her briefcase. Finally she located the source of her search—a well-done pencil drawing of a young boy bending over a chubby-faced, dark-eyed baby, who was reaching up to touch his face.

Yes, shorter this time, but I wanted to get this out before my crazy weekend arrives—It's prom time. Remember, to all of you who are having your proms soon—please please please remember not to drink and drive. It might not be your life you save, it could be someone else's. I nearly lost a cousin to a drunk driver. No one should have to deal with that.

(Clears throat) Yeah, enough of the commercial. REVIEW REPLY TIME!

Denaliyasha: Here it is, and never you worry about the Don and Terry thing. It will happen very very soon. I promise, and you'll never even see it coming. It'll blindside you like a Mack truck. (Angelic grin) Thanks for the review and your not-so-subtle nudges. Believe it or not, they help. :D

Sokorra Lewis: Yeah, I actually ended up kinda liking Templeton myself. He's not such a bad guy after all, even though he did try to come between Don and Terry. Never a good idea. And if you ever find out about a Baxter Circle in Pittsburgh, let me know, because that would just be really cool. Hee hee. Thanks for the review!

TheAnomally: I must take a moment and mention that I love your penname. That's really cool. The perp's out there, but not for long. Don't worry, he's going to get what's coming to him pretty soon. I promise. Thanks for the review, and stick around for the ride; it's going to get pretty bumpy.

MissCongeniality: No problem, I can totally understand about name issues. On a place like the internet, it's never easy, is it? Of course the Terry-dating-another-guy blew over. ;) I mean, really, can you SEE the woman with anyone but Don? I didn't think so. And the Don and Terry stuff is coming really soon, don't you worry. It's going to be very fun. (nods angelically) LONG LIVE NUMB3RS!

ollie-xox: Awe, thanks! (blushes) I'm glad you liked it. This one was kind of strange, but it will all make sense in the end. I hope. (crosses fingers) Is this enough unresolved-sexual-tension fluff for you? The good stuff is coming, I promise. And get that mongoose AWAY from me! He wants to eat me! (Screams like a little girl and runs away) The animals are attacking! Make it stop! They can't chew off my fingers, though. How will I type the next chapter? You'll have to wonder forever who killed Chrissie and if Don and Terry ever see the light…

Jill: You have a brother who looks like David Krumholtz! Can I meet him? (LOL) Kiss? Did I say kiss? (Looks around innocently) Yes, I think I did. It's coming, I promise. Maybe sooner than you think…;) Patience is a virtue, Jill, remember that. Hee hee. Oh, yeah, Don kisses Terry. You have my word. I'm afraid that things will get pretty OOC after that…(Sigh) the mush does it to me. Thanks about the congrats. I'm so relieved to be accepted. DON & TERRY 4EVER!

Teyla Sheppard: Well, happy belated birthday, first of all, and I hope it was a great one. I'm glad you liked your little birthday present! Never feel sorry about long reviews, and I'm so glad you're enjoying it. Suggestions are always welcome. And yup, I have Yahoo. My id is Authoress1813. Write sometime, I'd love that!

Crystal mac: Thanks for the review, and I'm really glad you like it!

Alexiamanda: Well, if I remind you of you, that can't be a bad thing, right. And there is more death coming, though I'm not going to disclose who or when or why—but I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. ;) I updated, I updated! And look, it wasn't even a whole month between them this time! (angel face) see? I'm a good girl, I am…aren't parents a pain? Mine kick me off all the time. It sucks!

MonkeySteph: I'm so glad you're enjoying it. People like you make my day. Don and Terry will end up together, I promise. Just wait…;)

Death-Dream666: I'm glad you like it, and I'm glad you think my characterizations are good. :) Thanks for the review, and stick around!

Arienis: Thanks, I'm so glad you liked the chapter. I really liked that Don and Charlie moment too…I thought it was one of the strong points of that chapter. Glad you're over Chrissie's death—you sure didn't take long to grieve. ;) Thanks for the review!

EclecticTrekker: Don't worry, I will finish this, I promise. It may take a while, but it will get done. Eventually. I'm glad you like it. I hope you'll enjoy the rest as much. Thanks for the many great compliments…you made my night. (blushes) Don't worry, there'll be enough sap to rot your teeth by the end of this story.

Stephanie: You read it all in one night? I'm impressed! There will be much much more Don angst to come, I promise, and it should be some very deep stuff. I'm glad you're enjoying it so much. Procrastination, Stephanie? Shame, shame…that's okay, writing this is my procrastination from my eleven-page report on JFK's assassination due tomorrow, so, you know…popopopop. Pop is a fun word, Stephanie. :D

CityGirl928: I'm so glad you love my story. I know there's not much number stuff, I leave that to the experts who know what they're talking about. I don't even try to pretend I do. The date scene was a friend's request, but it was so much fun to write. I'm thrilled that you like it so well. Here's an update—thanks for the great review!

Lola: Thanks, I'm glad you like it. Here's some more, and there's more on the way.

MissCongeniality: I KNOW! (bawls) She can't leave! But she has. It's been confirmed. (Sniff) WHY! I will finish this anyway, though, and I suppose I shall continue to write Don/Terry stuff. I'm sorry, but I just can't see him with anyone else. Can you see us, the loyal shippers, still promoting Don/Terry in the fourth season when all the new viewers are like, "Who's Terry?" It'll make me want to scream, I promise. (Sobs)

SD: I know it's been a while! I'm sorry! (ducks head in shame) Here's a new chapter, and I hope that it makes up a little bit for it.

That's it for me. I hope this chapter is as well-received as the previous ones. I have to run, the library is closing. Love to all—Sila