Disclaimer: Still don't own Charlie's hair. Or any other part of Numb3rs, either. Or Navy NCIS. CBS owns all of the characters, plot, and everything that goes with one of those two for both shows.
Thanks for all the reviews, you guys! I never thought that this story would get the attention that it did. Therefore, for all you wonderful reviewers, I decided to post this chapter earlier than I thought I would. Please continue with all the support you are giving! That means, when you're done with the chapter, review!
And, once again, a series of numbers above a section means the section is from a Numb3rs perspective, while the series of periods indicate the next section is from an NCIS perspective.
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"You know," their father piped up as they were eating dinner, "I was really starting to miss you guys. We haven't had dinner together for nearly two weeks. But if this is the kind of treatment I get, I may start asking you two to have more of these disappearances."
Charlie laughed along with his father, but Don was only able to smile. Knowing his father was joking made what he had to tell Charlie even harder.
Amid their laughing, Don barely heard his cell phone ringing.
"Eppes." He could hear commotion on the other end of the phone before Agent Gibbs spoke.
"So have you asked him yet?"
Don looked at his family. The two of them were still talking. He motioned he was going to go outside for a bit. They nodded, and he walked outside.
"Agent Gibbs, I was about to talk to him about it when you called."
"Well, tell him he has twelve hours to decide whether he's going to come or not!" Agent Gibbs responded before hanging up abruptly.
Don pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it blankly. Did he really want his best consultant to work for this guy?
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"Well, tell him he has twelve hours to decide whether he's going to come or not!" Hanging up the phone, Gibbs tried without success to control his frustration. Why did McGee have to decide to take me seriously? Why did he have to hire a mathematician?
"Uh, Boss? Is something wrong?"
"What makes you think something is wrong, McGee?"
"Well, you told Agent Eppes that his brother has twelve hours, but he really has eighteen. You hung up suddenly on another agent that isn't someone that works here."
"To answer your question, yes, something is wrong." He left the room before he could McGee could ask any other questions.
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Charlie couldn't believe what Don was telling him. NCIS wanted him to go to Washington, D.C. to work on a case there?
"So, basically, they need a mathematician to crack a code, they heard about me working for the FBI, and now they want me to consult for them on a case?"
"Basically, yeah."
"And they can't find someone closer to D.C. why?" Mathematicians were all throughout the country. Why ask somebody that was on the other side of the United States? It simply wasn't logical.
"They also heard about your work with the NSA. Other than that, I don't know why they want you instead of any other mathematician," Don responded. "The other thing is that Agent Gibbs wants your response within the next twelve hours."
Charlie thought for a while. School was out for the summer, so he had about two months available.
"Sure, why not?" This could get interesting.
"So you are going to be gone for a long time again?" his father asked. "I wasn't serious about you disappearing again."
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McGee's head shot up when Gibbs' cell phone rang.
"Yeah, Gibbs."
McGee watched Gibbs' face in wonder as it changed from his usually emotionless look to upset before he spoke again.
"Okay, thank you, Doctor Eppes. Either Director Shepard or I will be at the airport to pick you up in the morning."
Hanging up, Gibbs looked more upset that McGee thought he would be, considering Doctor Eppes apparently decided to come out to D.C. "Anything wrong, Boss?"
"No! Everything's fine! I'm going to inform the director of Doctor Eppes' decision." And without further comment, Gibbs stalked off toward Shepard's office.
McGee couldn't help but wonder what this Doctor Eppes person could have done to anger Gibbs.
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"Okay, thank you, Doctor Eppes. Either Director Shepard or I will be at the airport to pick you up in the morning."
Charlie was about to ask who Director Shepard was, or what he was going to be specifically doing with whom, or any of the other questions whirling around his head, but Agent Gibbs hung up on him before he could ask any of them.
Charlie hung up his own phone in a bit of a daze. Was he just imagining it, or did Agent Gibbs really not want him to go? Was Agent Gibbs mad at him, or was there something else going on that put him in his bad mood? Or is that just the way he acts all the time? Don looked back at him from across the table, nodding, probably at the shocked look on his face. "I take it you had the same impression of him that I did?"
"I don't know. Did you get the impression that he really didn't want me to come, but he had to anyway? That he doesn't like me, even though he's never met me?"
Don shook his head, saying, "No. I just got the impression that he got right to the point, but he could be kind of rude in getting there. And that he's definitely not someone you want to anger."
Charlie stared at the beer bottle Don was holding. It was half empty, but Don had been drinking from that bottle for half an hour now. "Yeah, that too. But I think I might have already angered him, and I don't know why or how."
The two sat in silence, thinking about what was coming up. Why should I be nervous? It will be just like when I first started consulting for the FBI. Prove to everyone that math can be used, help them solve the case, and be on my merry way home? But Charlie could only wonder why he didn't feel like it would be that easy.
Five minutes later, Charlie mumbled, "I'd better go start packing." Don nodded, staring off into space. Sighing, he trudged up the stairs to his room, and pulled out a large suitcase, as well as some clothes.
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"But I think I might have already angered him, and I don't know why or how." Don nodded in response to his brother's statement. Charlie might not know how or why Agent Gibbs was angry with him, but Don had a good idea why. Because he had felt it so many times himself.
What Charlie still didn't seem to understand was the fact that most people didn't like somebody who acted like a know-it-all. People liked to be right, but when somebody else was always right, they didn't like it. Even Don had felt this way toward his brother. He had never hated Charlie like some of his friends had. Brothers might dislike each other, but they don't truly hate each other. Besides, Don saw the faults in his brother that nobody else saw, the faults that made his brother human.
As he stared off into space, Don's protective feelings started to come out, and it was all Don could do to control them. It was almost like they were back in high school again, and people doubted Charlie because of his obsession with numbers. Now that he was an adult, Charlie was using his math abilities to teach others, which gave him at least a little bit of social interactions that he missed in school. He was also using math to help the FBI and NSA, benefiting the population as a whole.
Don couldn't be more proud of how far his brother had come as a person, even in the past year. Logically, Don knew that Charlie would be okay with Agent Gibbs and the other agents in D.C. But his big brother instincts were trying to resurface, and it was harder and harder to hold them back.
Charlie mumbled something around the lines of starting to pack, but Don could not remember if he responded or not. He had to be at the airport in a few hours to catch his flight, and Don had promised to drive him over. But right now, Don was lost in his thoughts, his debate over whether to play coworker or big brother with Charlie.
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He really did mean to start packing. Honestly. But he was laid out on the bed, and he made no move from his position. The room was a mess; clothes were laying on the chair, the desk, the bed, almost everywhere except the suitcase.
Charlie could hear the clock in the hallway ticking as the seconds passed, then minutes. Still, he didn't move. He could hear movement downstairs, but he couldn't figure out what was happening.
The movement became clearer and louder, and Charlie could figure out that somebody was walking up the stairs. He couldn't say he was looking forward to either his dad or brother telling him he was wasting time, so he finally stood up and started packing the clothes previously thrown around the room.
The person entered the room, but Charlie didn't see who it was; his back was facing the person. All he said was, "I know, I'm packing as fast as I can. I'll be down in a few minutes."
"There's no need to hurry, Charlie. We still have a few hours before we have to leave," Don's voice replied. Turning around, Charlie saw him with a smile on his face. Not a big, fake smile that seemed plastered there, but almost a shy, honest smile.
Turning back around to face the suitcase, Charlie merely nodded. He didn't want to say it, but Charlie was worried that if he didn't finish packing soon, he would never finish it.
Don headed off to the bed and sat at its foot. Charlie continued to pack, feeling Don's eyes follow him. Looking up, he asked, "What?"
"Is something wrong, Buddy?"
"Why do you think there's something wrong?" Charlie was surprised at the fact that Don caught on to his nervousness. But, of course, Don was used to interrogating suspects, and that included their body language, sometimes more than their spoken language.
"You're quieter tonight than you usually are, and you aren't full of the energy you usually possess. So what's up?"
"Honestly? I'm nervous. Usually, even when I start something new, I have at least one constant in the equation, one thing that stays the same from situation to situation. When I started high school, I was still living at home with you, Mom, and Dad. At Princeton, Mom came with me. When I started teaching at Cal Sci, teaching people that were the same age as me, I was still living at home. At the FBI, I was working with you. I'm going to be going off to Washington, D.C. I won't have you or Mom or Dad with me. I won't have any of the other agents from the office with me, or any of my friends. It will be a completely new equation with completely different variables. New people, new environment, new everything." Surprisingly, Charlie felt much better when he released all that from his mind.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, Buddy, but you are forgetting a variable," Don countered, a smug look on his face. Charlie shot him a quizzical glance. "The more surprising thing is that I caught on to it, even when you didn't. There's one constant throughout all of the situations that you mentioned above, the one constant that assures me that you'll be okay. In all of those situations, you have been Charlie Eppes. That's all the assurance I need to know that you are going to be fine. Even with Agent Gibbs."