Lonely No More

Author: Dragon's Daughter 1980

Pairing: Don/Terry

Disclaimer: CBS has ownership over Numb3rs. That being said, I'm just borrowing the cast for my own enjoyment and I promise to return all characters unharmed.

Author's Note: This piece has been dancing around in my head for quite a while now and I thought it would be a nice fit for Valentine's Day. The song in the bar is called "Lonely No More" sung by Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20; I recommend listening to it. Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, especially to the cast and crew of Numb3rs!

Terry Lake would admit that being an attractive, single woman had its perks; however, being ruthlessly hit on by every single dateless man in the bar was most certainly not one of them. She blamed it on the alcohol, the music and the day.

Valentine's Day, and instead of going out on a date with an investment banker, she was stuck here in this watering-hole, wearing a little too little in her opinion, on a FBI sting operation. Her arranged 'date' was now fashionably late and she was getting slightly irritated by the number of looks she was getting from the singles crowd. Granted, she wasn't so sure that she would be enjoying herself on her real date either. The man was nice, as far as she could tell, but she didn't know if he was the type who only wanted her for her looks. She sighed quietly, idly stirring her carbonated beverage. The agent who posed as the bartender gave her a questioning look as he poured another shot for a gloomy man sitting five stools down the bar. She shook her head ever so slightly, telling him to drop the subject. She returned to staring at the bubbles in her drink.

Truth be told, there was really only one man that she was interested in. If she was told that she could marry anyone in the world, she would chose him above all others. Unfortunately, he was off-limits. Not that he was married or anything; just that he was her partner and there were rules against that. She wasn't sure when she had fallen in love with him, when friendly concern had turned into crush had turned into love. Worst of all, it was all one-sided as far as she knew. She was fairly sure that it was neither normal nor healthy to pine; she just didn't know if she was pining.

"Judy?" a man's voice asked before a hand touched her gently on the arm. Remembering her false name, she turned around and caught her breath. She reminded herself to close her mouth and breathe. Her date had arrived.

Don Eppes turned off the car engine and tried to relax his tense body. 'You're on a date,' he told himself, 'not on the job, just waltz in there, apologize for getting stuck in traffic, hand her the rose and start surveillance. It's not that hard.' He groaned because it was much harder than it sounded. He leaned his head against the headrest, wondering precisely how he managed to end up in the role of the 'date' in the whole operation. Probably when the man who was supposed to be in his place sprained his ankle running down a flight of stairs, he mused. He picked up the single rose from the front passenger seat and got out of the car.

It wasn't like he had anything better to do on Valentine's Day, but he was sure that he could have done better than going to work. Unlike dateless him, both his father and brother were out to dinner with their girlfriends. He, on the other hand, was going to help out the Organized Crime's Task Force with surveillance of a bar that was particularly popular with one of their targets. 'At least I don't have to wear a suit,' he thought as he pushed open the door to the establishment. Wearing a blue shirt, with the top two buttons left undone, and jeans, he looked like just another blue-collar man stopping by for a drink before he headed home to his honey. Going into this situation without his weapon made him a little uneasy, but no one expected anything to get out of hand. He began scanning the room for any familiar faces.

Because of the hurried nature of his briefing, he had no idea who his partner for the surveillance was. There were a number of women who were sitting at the bar itself, so he began making his way towards them. A little voice in his earpiece whispered, "Third woman on the right, ivory and navy blue." When he saw who it was, his heart leaped a little and he quickly tried to calm himself down. It was impossible to mistake the lithe, petit woman sitting at the bar for anyone else but his partner. He wondered if someone was silently granting his wish in a roundabout way. If he had been told he could spend Valentine's Day with anyone in the world, he would have picked her without a second thought. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure if she was available; she still wore her wedding ring — out of habit or because she still loved her ex-husband, he didn't know. Until he was sure that she was ready to move on, he wouldn't press him suit. Today, however, he thought she could use some romance. She was drinking something sparkly — he was pretty sure it wasn't alcohol — and looking rather depressed.

With a calm, steady breath to slow his pulse, he touched her gently on the bare arm as he said "Judy?"

She turned around and froze ever so slightly for a brief moment. He couldn't help but smile at how the light hit her hair at just the right angle to make it glimmer in the darkness or how perfect the ivory-colored blouse and navy blue skirt looked on her. Then she smiled and asked, "Bob, what took you so long?"

"Traffic," he replied easily, sliding onto the stool next to her, graciously offering her the rose with one hand. She took it carefully and smelled the flower's fragrance. The rich redness of the rose in full bloom contrasted perfectly with her light-toned skin. It was an unforgettable image.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, wondering if he should make it look realistic by kissing her. By the same token, they were both on the job and at least one of their colleagues was watching. She apparently had the same thoughts too because she half-slid off of her seat to give him a brief hug.

"Thank you," she said, blushing as she got back on the stool, "it was sweet of you to remember." She put the rose next to her drink. He signaled the bartender and, when the man came over, said, "I'll have the same thing she's having." The other agent nodded and filled him a glass.

"So how was work?" she asked innocently. He gave her a look, but obediently began to contrive a plausible story about his 'job.' Likewise, she did the same, though he thought she might have had an easier time of it than he did, being informed ahead of time what her cover background was. Their conversation was light and inconsequential as they waited for their target to arrive, keeping one eye on the door and the other on the patrons. That's how he didn't realize that they were openly holding hands until the music started.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked graciously. He had no idea why he asked her that question, but it seemed like something to do while they waited. Judging by her sudden blush, the offer must have flustered her for a moment before she recovered enough to say with a smile, "Why not?"

'Why not, indeed?' he thought as he led her out onto the dance floor. He took her into his arms. He couldn't help but think of how perfectly they fit together. But until he found the nerve to ask her to be with him forever, he would content himself with tonight.

Their bodies drifted closer to each other, pressing together as they danced, until they were only inches apart. She looked up and her blue eyes met his brown ones and it was like the universe came to a stop around them. She could feel his heartbeat fluttering under her fingers, his hand protectively on her lower back, his unsteady breathing brushing her cheek. She could see the desire in his eyes. Her breath caught as his hand cradled the back of her head and she knew, even before he lowered his head, that they were about to cross a line.

She found that she didn't care and wrapped her arms around his neck, prepared to meet him halfway. His lips brushed ever so lightly against hers, teasing her before —

"Hey, Eppes, Lake? Tangos at two o'clock," a sudden voice in their earpieces jolted them back to their reality. They broke apart, each stepping back into their own personal space, slightly flustered by what they had nearly done. She could see the subtle shift in his expression as he refocused on the task at hand and she forced herself to ignore the fact he nearly kissed her in public. Ever so casually, they scanned the room for their targets. Then to her surprise, he pulled her closer again, his hand on the back of her neck. He tilted her head as if to truly kiss her, but his wrist was at an odd angle to do so. Then she knew and obligingly played along by wrapping her arms around his neck, effectively preventing anyone from seeing what he was doing.

"Got them," he murmured into the microphone concealed in his shirt sleeve. The message passed on, the two FBI agents broke apart from their close embrace and waited. Sure enough, their target walked right past them on the way to a private booth. The two agents followed to a nearby table and spent the rest of their evening in the rather unromantic pursuit of gathering damning evidence against the man and his cronies.

Following the surveillance debriefing at the office, he accompanied her to her car. She unlocked the door, but before she opened it, she looked at him and said, "Thanks for the company, Don. I enjoyed doing surveillance with you."

"Same here," he replied, his eyes meeting hers again. There was a moment of silence where he could have easily stepped in and kissed her, but he didn't. She nodded slowly, "I guess I'd better get home then. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," he said, opening the door for her. She gave him a wordless smile of thanks as she got in. He shut the door and watched her pull out of her parking space. Once he was alone in garage, he began to walk toward his car, half-humming to himself the song they had been dancing to in the bar. He didn't regret kissing her briefly, however impulsive that decision was. He enjoyed her company tonight, and he wouldn't mind if they started spending more time together, outside of work.

'Maybe next year… I'll ask her out on a real date…'