A/N: Here I am, attempting to make up for gross negligence in the 'update' department. Such things lead to mistakes, I know, but I am trying.

Chapter 9:

Two days previous

Megan looked up from her monitor. "Charlie!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Good afternoon, Megan," Charlie replied. Nodding at the two agents behind her, he added, "David. Colby." Both men greeted him with a measure of surprise. Turning to Megan, he asked, "Is Don around, by any chance?'

Megan, Colby and David exchanged significant glances. Charlie saw them and asked, "Why do I have a sudden feeling of déjà vu?"

David stood. "Uh, Charlie," he began. "Didn't Don tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

An uncomfortable silence fell. Colby was the first to break it. "Don's been transferred."

Charlie moved to sit in one of the chairs. "Don's been… What? Transferred? When?" he stammered. "I… I don't…" He looked at each one of them in turn. "What happened?"

"We don't know, really," Megan replied. "He asked for the transfer."

Charlie mulled this over. "Maybe the investigation got to him more than he let on." He lifted his gaze to Megan's face. "Maybe he wanted out of the office because…"

"He's not out of the office," David interrupted. "He's upstairs."

Charlie's face was the picture of confusion. "He…" Standing suddenly, he said, "I'm going to get to the bottom of this." He made for the door, but Megan stopped him.

"Charlie wait."

"No Megan," he said firmly. "I'm going to go ask Don what the heck is going on here. None of this makes any sense. Not after…" he trailed off.

Megan searched his expression for some clue to what he wasn't saying. She grasped his arm gently and said, "Come on. We need to talk." Turning to David and Colby, she added, "You guys coming?"

Both men grabbed their suit jackets and pulled them on. "Where are we going?" David asked.

"For a late lunch."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Megan and David sat on one side of the banquette table sipping coffees, while Colby and Charlie sat opposite. Charlie's cup of herbal tea sat untouched on the saucer before him. Colby was drinking from a bottle of mineral water. Megan watched Charlie staring into his cup for several minutes before speaking.

"Not after what?" she asked suddenly. Charlie's head came up with a jerk.

"Sorry, what?"

Megan rested her chin in one hand and met his gaze directly. "You said, back at the office, that Don's transfer didn't make sense. 'Not after…' Not after what?" When Charlie didn't respond, she tried again gently. "Not after what, Charlie? What happened?"

Charlie sighed. "Last night I overheard Don and my dad talking."

"You 'overheard' them?" Colby asked wryly.

Looking sheepishly at the agent through a curtain of dark brown curls, Charlie smiled. "Well, okay. I was eavesdropping." At Megan and David's surprised looks, he hurried to explain. "There was something going on – I could tell. Don wouldn't say, and I know my dad knows about it…"

David asked, "How?"

"Just by the way the two of them were behaving."

"Atta boy, Charlie," Colby said, clapping him on the shoulder. "We'll make a Federal investigator out of you yet."

Charlie grinned at him momentarily, then sobered. "So I listened. Dad thanked Don for not telling me whatever he's up to, and Don said they'd agreed not to tell me." He paused. In a quieter tone, he added, "He said he didn't think he could go through with it." Charlie missed the looks the three agents exchanged. Raising his voice slightly, he continued. "Dad told Don he could do it, whatever it was, and said it 'wouldn't be for much longer'. Don said…"

David pressed. "Go on Charlie. What did Don say?"

Charlie looked at each one for a moment before replying. "He said it'd be over tomorrow."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Eppes."

Don looked up from his paperwork to find Mike Travers towering over him. "What do you want?"

The other agent frowned. "You really ought to watch your attitude, Eppes."

Standing, Don growled, "Don't threaten me, Travers."

"What's your problem, Eppes? Afraid someone will find out you can't do your job without 'baby brother' to do your thinking for you?" Travers sneered.

Don ground his teeth in frustration. "I'll ask you one more time, Travers. What do you want?"

Travers looked at him silently, the wry grin fading. Finally he said, "McKesson wants to talk to you."

Don brushed past him roughly. "It took that long for the message to get from your tiny brain to your mouth, huh?" Not giving him a chance to reply, Don strode across the room to Roger McKesson's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Don twisted the knob and stepped inside. "You wanted to see me?" He studied the man seated behind the desk. McKesson was a formidable individual – not in size, but in presence. At first glance, he seemed to be nondescript: medium brown hair, average features, blue eyes. It was what one saw in those eyes, however, that sparked the realization this was no ordinary man, even for an FBI agent.

"Agent Eppes," McKesson greeted him without standing. "Please, have a seat." Once Don had complied, he continued. "You asked to be transferred to Major Crimes, and we're glad to have you."

"Yeah, well," Don said, rubbing his upper lip with one finger. "I couldn't really work where I was anymore, now could I?"

McKesson replied, "No. I suppose the tension levels were a little… extreme."

Don laughed sharply, but there was no humor in it. "You can say that again."

"The stigma of false accusation is, shall we say, acute."

Leaning forward in his seat and propping his elbows on his knees, Don said, "What do you say we drop this whole Arthur Conan Doyle dialogue and get down to it?" McKesson raised his eyebrows, and Don continued, "What did you call me in here for?"

Shuffling the papers in front of him, McKesson replied, "I did a favor for you, Agent Eppes, in getting you out of your office and into mine."

Don leaned back in his chair. "Yeah. Thanks." He crossed his left ankle over his right knee. "And I suppose now you want me to return the favor."

"Very good, Agent," McKesson answered. "Yes, I do. You see?" he added. "Travers was wrong about you after all. You don't need Charlie to help you figure things out."

Don tensed. "Leave him out of this."

"As you like it." McKesson stood and walked to the window. With his back to Don, he said, "I want you to do something for me now, Don." He turned slightly, waiting for Don's response. When he remained silent, McKesson said, "I want you to go on a raid tomorrow."