Author's Note: I'm only posting one chapter, but I'll update soon. I promise! Warning for depiction of alcohol consumption.
Chapter 8
"I… am not going to be able to drive home." Terry announced this as if she'd made a dazzling discovery.
"True," Don nodded.
They were sitting in a bar later that same night. As promised, Don had bought the first round. And a couple other rounds too.
They'd arrived a couple hours ago to a mixture of cheers and taunts from the teammates and friends already gathered there after practice. The group spent much of the evening happily recapping the scrimmage and warmly debating who was the best player. By now, most of the group had departed and only the five teammates remained.
Terry eyed Don critically, "You've had, what, one beer?"
Don nodded.
She reached out and picked up the dark brown bottle. "Still a little left," she observed before setting it back down. She began idly rocking it back and forth.
"And you?" Terry asked, looking across the table at Charlie.
Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie watched Don quietly slide the beer bottle out of reach to prevent her from tipping it over. He propped his elbows on the table and shrugged. "Cherry coke. But I had two if that helps."
Terry leaned against Don. "Why did I drink more than you guys?"
"Because we kept buying you drinks," Don reminded her.
"In gratitude," Charlie added.
"Right," Don continued with a grin. "In gratitude for defending our honor."
Terry giggled. Charlie noticed she remained leaning against Don and his fond glance in her direction suggested he didn't exactly mind.
The reality was, she hadn't had that much to drink either. It was true she would need a ride home, and she was clearly feeling no pain, but Charlie doubted she'd have trouble making it into the office in the morning.
"Alex… is…" she seemed to lose her train of thought and looked to Charlie for help. "What is he?"
"A complete jerk," he replied immediately and with some feeling.
"Right!" she declared and giggled again.
On second thought, Charlie reflected, maybe she'd had more to drink than he realized.
Don seemed to be thinking along similar lines as he signaled the waitress and requested water.
Charlie smiled. That wouldn't do much to sober her up now, but it might lessen the effects of her impending hangover tomorrow morning. That seemed like Don's style. He was protective of the people he was closest to, but he never stood in their way. Growing up, Charlie learned to go to Don when he wanted to try, as their father put it, 'slightly dangerous' things. Don might protest at first, but if you were really determined, you could always count on him to not only let you go but to come along for the ride and keep you from getting hurt.
Charlie's thoughts were interrupted when the new agent, Kia, stood up from a nearby table where she'd been engrossed in a conversation with David and announced, "This has been fun, but I gotta go." David stood up and offered to walk her out. He held up his hand in a wave to the rest of the group. "Good night, guys. See you tomorrow."
Terry and Charlie both waved back, but Don called out, "Wait up a sec!" and gently pushed Terry back up into an upright position before standing up. He made sure to catch Charlie's eye in an unspoken request to look out for Terry while he was gone.
Charlie smiled and nodded to reassure him. Don smiled back and gave him a quick conspiratorial wink before hurrying after the others.
After watching Don leave, Terry turned back to Charlie with a slightly unfocused smile. "Charlie, you're going to help me."
Charlie ducked his head to hide a bemused smile. "Me? How am I going to do that?"
She leaned over the table toward him and confided, "I accused Don of talking about my abilities on the basketball court in less than glowing terms. He denied it. You are going to tell me what he really says about me behind my back."
Charlie leaned way back in his seat, balancing on the two back legs of the chair, and tried to suppress a laugh. "And why would I do that?"
Terry raised her eyebrows. "So he did say something about me. Something he wouldn't want repeated."
Charlie set the chair back down and sat up straighter. He was grateful for the momentary interruption as the waitress arrived with glasses of water. Terry somehow seemed more collected than she had a minute ago. He'd gone from placating a happy drunk to squirming under the piercing gaze of an FBI profiler and he never saw the switch happen.
The waitress was still hovering near his elbow, so he glanced up and muttered a distracted "Thanks" as he reached for the glass of water. He wasn't really thirsty, but having something to occupy his mouth seemed like a good idea just then.
That got rid of the waitress, but Terry was more persistent. "Do you know why you're going to tell me?"
Charlie shook his head mutely and concentrated on stilling any nervous habits that might give something away.
"Because you want to know how Don injured his leg. Think of it," she explained with a casual wave of her hand, "as an exchange of information."
Charlie's eyes darted to the door, but Don was outside talking with David and Kia. Rescue by a returning Don seemed far off and Terry's smile looked dangerous.