I do not own any characters associated with the TV show Numb3rs. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
I apologize for the lengthy delay in getting this chapter to you. Real life is never interested in my writing schedule! Thanks for your patience and I will do my best to get future chapters up in a timelier manner!
Thanks for not giving up on this story and thanks again for all of your reviews!
2002
"You're going to get us busted, you know that?" Isabel smiled playfully at Charlie, who had just kissed and playfully bit the back of her neck.
"No one ever comes in here."
"That's hardly the point." She gave him the most serious look she could muster, hoping he'd take the hint.
He didn't.
The next time she looked up, he was staring at her intently and she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Seriously, Charlie, I'm starting to think I've created a monster. What happened to my help here?" She held up a file folder and waved it around.
Charlie ran his hands through his hair and leaned back in his chair, looking up toward the ceiling. "I'm having a hard time concentrating."
"Look, I understand you have a lot on your mind, and our little…escapades…aren't helping. We still have to finish this, Charlie! You're going to get me into serious trouble at work. You don't want me to have to go get some other hot math genius to help me, do you?"
"There aren't any."
"Oh, so you think you're the only one, huh?" She lifted an eyebrow and did her best to hide her grin.
"The only genius? No. The only hot one? Yeah. And if you don't believe me you should come to my next conference with me."
"Pretty full of yourself, aren't you?"
"No, just pretty sure you're bluffing on replacing me."
"Well if you don't get to work, we're going to find out who's bluffing."
Charlie sat back in his chair and stared at the papers in front of him. They'd made significant progress since their start, but he also knew there was still plenty more to go. Normally he didn't have to try when it came to numbers, but lately he hadn't felt like himself. He wasn't joking when he told her he was having a difficult time concentrating. After five minutes of aimlessly shuffling papers, it was clear he wasn't getting back to work.
Isabel sighed, throwing down the folder and leaning back, arms crossed. "Are you stalling on purpose?"
Charlie looked up, surprised at the seriousness of her tone. "No."
"Then please try to concentrate and help me get this done."
"So what happens exactly when we've finished this?" It was a question that had been nagging at him for weeks, but he'd been unwilling to ask it before now.
"It has to be put to the test out in the field." She leaned forward over the table again as she continued marking up the papers in front of her.
"Define 'out in the field'?"
"You know, the field—as in the real world. Out there." She pointed toward the window with her pen, but didn't take her eyes off her work.
"Are you going to be the one to test it?"
"Of course I am, Charlie, this is my assignment." Isabel didn't look up to see the concerned look on his face.
"Where are you going?"
Isabel finally looked up, an unreadable expression on her face. "You know I can't tell you that."
"How long will you be gone?" Charlie's mind was attempting to run through all of the various possibilities that their work could be used for and what it would entail, but at the same time he was distracted by the growing lump in his throat.
"You know I can't tell you that either—not only because it would be classified, but because honestly, I don't know."
"Days, weeks, months—what are we talking here?"
"Charlie, I don't know! Why are you asking me all of these questions right now; it's all moot until we finish this!"
"Maybe I don't want you to go…"
"You know I have to go. You've known that from the beginning. Please don't do this to me now." Isabel said the last few words in almost a whisper.
"What about what you're going to do to me?" The look on Charlie's face tore at Isabel. This was the conversation she always tried to steer them away from; no matter what, there would be no good outcome from it.
"Charlie, I promise we'll talk about this later, when we're alone."
"We're alone right now."
"We're working right now! Well, at least, one of us is!" Isabel gave Charlie a stern look. Maybe if she could get him back to work he'd drop the subject.
Charlie simply stared at her for a moment, then looked down and started shuffling through his notes again, a distant look on his face. This was the reaction that she hated. Though they'd only been together a short time, she liked to think she already knew him pretty well. This reaction meant he wouldn't be bringing this up again, but since that was what she wanted for the time being, she let it go.
Immersing herself in her work again, she jumped a little when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and felt her jaw clench before she answered it. "Diga."
Charlie glanced up from his papers when Isabel took the call. This was the second time since he got there that she'd taken a call in Spanish and although he didn't really know why, he didn't like it. It wasn't just that he had no clue what she was saying, and he knew she wouldn't tell him; it was feeling that something important was happening and he didn't know what it was.
He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, trying to take slow, deep breaths. He swallowed, but it did nothing to get rid of the lump that was still persistently stuck in his throat. Isabel was speaking very rapidly; he had no hope of even picking out the few words he actually knew. He started to think about his mother. She'd had her 3rd doctor's appointment this week today. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he wasn't being a good son to her right now. He knew he should be spending more time with her instead of every waking hour at the office or at school. Somewhere in the farther recesses of his mind, he also recognized that he was simply trying to avoid the situation altogether, irrationally hoping that it would just go away if he did.
"Charlie?"
He looked up to see Isabel staring at him expectantly.
"Didn't you hear anything I just said?"
"Sorry, no."
Isabel frowned and crossed the room to where he was, sitting down on the edge of the table in front of him. She brushed his hair away from his face and ran her hand down his cheek and across the stubble on his jaw line. He rarely took the time to shave anymore.
As though reading his thoughts, she said, "Maybe you need to spend some time at home tonight."
"I know I probably should, but like you said, we need to get this done."
"This can wait until tomorrow."
"No. You just said we needed to get this done."
"It can wait for you; I can finish consolidating the data without you, you know."
"I don't want you to though."
"I know." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Charlie closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Come on, I'll take you home."
"I don't want to go home."
"Well I'm not letting you stay here."
"Can't we just go somewhere?" He looked up at her with those deep eyes that always made her melt, but she knew that she couldn't give in this time.
"No, no more of that. I'm not going to be the rock you crawl under every time you want to hide from reality. Your family needs you and whether you realize it or not right now, you need them too."
"What I need is you."
"And I'll be here if you need me."
"But only for a limited time, right?" That look flashed in Charlie's eyes again, and Isabel felt the all-too-familiar pang of guilt again.
"Don't." She looked at the floor, unable to hold his gaze any longer.
Charlie stood up, taking his coat from the back of the chair. "I'll be at my house if you need me."
"I said I'll take you."
"No, thanks, I can get myself there."
"Charlie, please don't be angry with me. I don't have any control over this."
"I know; it's just work, right?"
He walked out the door and Isabel slid into the nearest chair, letting her head fall into her hands.