A/N: Please remember that this is fiction. While it may be a reflection of my personal views, it is not intended as a judgment of anyone else's. Chapter 4

Don drained the beer, looking at the table where his brother sat with Amita, Alan and Katie. There was an empty chair, and he knew he was probably supposed to be sitting on it. He contemplated the empty bottle. "I'm an FBI agent," he told himself. "I can do this."

He screwed up his courage, and strode across the room.

They were laughing. He had noticed people were often laughing when Katie was around. Alan smiled up at him. "Donnie! Grab a seat, son. Have you been to the buffet?"

Don sat. "Yeah, Dad, I got waylaid by Larry." He looked generally at all of them, managing to avoid eye contact. "I want to apologize again for being late," he said, then looked directly at Katie. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Katie smiled. "I have three older brothers," she answered. "That's not the first time I've been tackled." Her eyes took on a teasing look. "Although it was definitely a different experience!"

Don knew he was blushing, and turned toward Amita to get the attention off himself. "So how are you doing?" he asked. "Getting cold feet yet?" Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and Don mentally kicked himself. "I should not have gotten up today," he thought.

Amita took Charlie's hand. "I'm excited, of course," she answered. "I just wish my parents could be here."

Alan reached out to touch her free hand fondly. "I'm sure you do," he said. "I'm so sorry they couldn't come."

"They're coming from India later this year, right?" asked Katie.

Amita smiled again, and this time it seemed genuine. "Yes. We all decided that we'd rather have them come later. If they came now, we'd only see them for a few days, and then we'd be gone on our honeymoon. But if they come later, we'll actually be here to spend time with them."

Larry had wandered up to the table and stood over them. "It's a shame that you two cannot spend your honeymoon in India," he said. "I know you'd love to see it again, Amita, and show off your homeland to Charles."

"They'll go later," said Katie confidently. "It's just too big a risk for Charlie to leave the country yet. At least not for a third-world destination," she added, looking apologetically at Amita.

"You're right, of course," Amita answered. "I'm just so happy to still have Charlie here. We don't need to go to India right now."

"I'm going back to the buffet." Alan stood and looked around. "Anyone care to join me?"

Larry gave Charlie a squeeze on the shoulder. "I'll walk with you Alan. I seem to have left my laptop on another table…"

The table lapsed into silence, and Don wished he had another beer. Hell, Don wished he had a bottle of tequila and a straw. He saw Katie look at her watch and frown.

"Oh rats, I've gotta go. I'm working tonight."

"Katie!" Amita was shocked. "You're coming to my wedding after working all night?"

Katie winked at Don, which he found disconcerting, yet still pleasant. "Don't worry, not all night," she laughed. "I'm just covering for a friend for a few hours. She's picking up her husband at the airport tonight. Hasn't seen him in almost two months." She sighed dramatically as she stood to leave. "Sometimes a girl's gotta…well, sometimes a girl has to be tackled."

There was a strange buzzing in Don's ears as he stood to say good night to Katie, but he could still hear Charlie laughing at him. "No time like the present," he thought, turning back toward the table. "Hey Charlie? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Charlie glanced at Amita, who suddenly seemed extremely interested in her plate of food, then stood to walk around the table to Don. "Sure," he said, a little nervously. "Let's take a walk."

NUMBERS NUMBERS NUMBERS NUMBERS NUMBERS NUMBERS

The two brothers wandered the hotel hallways until they found the restaurant. Don was happy to learn they served liquor, and as he ordered his tequila (no straw), Charlie reached out his hand. "Give me your keys."

"It's only one drink, Charlie, and I haven't even had it yet!" Don protested.

"I counted your beers at the dinner," Charlie answered. "And now you're headed for the hard stuff. Give me your keys." Don acquiesced, and Charlie added, "You'd better not show up at my wedding with a hangover."

"If you had let me throw you the traditional bachelor party," snorted Don, "you'd be showing up at your wedding with a hangover."

Charlie grinned. "I'm sure Colby is disappointed."

Don laughed as the tequila and Charlie's bottled water arrived. "I'm sure Colby's having the party anyway — with or without you."

He was wondering how to transition when Charlie did it for him. "Don, I'm sorry about lunch."

"No, Buddy, I'm sorry. That was a really nasty thing to say."

Charlie smiled. "It's okay, Don, I know you didn't say it to hurt me. It was actually kind of funny. In a sick little way."

Don felt a little relief. "About what you asked me…", he started, but Charlie interrupted.

"Pretend that never happened. I'm sorry I did that."

Don knew he had not had enough tequila, because he actually felt a little disappointed.

"I mean," Charlie was continuing, "I know stranger things have happened. People do this sort of thing all the time — Amita showed me magazine stories."

Don almost sprayed Charlie's face again, this time with tequila, but managed to keep the liquid in his mouth. He wasn't sure he had ever heard Charlie talk so long before about something that didn't involve numbers.

Charlie took a sip of water. "I was never comfortable with asking," he confessed. "There are other things we can do." He looked at Don. "I showed Amita magazine stories, too."

Don waited.

"I'm not saying the people who do this are wrong. Everyone has to find his or her own peace. And Amita is not wrong for wanting this." Charlie sighed, and Don knew that despite the surrealness of this conversation, the situation was taking its toll on Charlie. "I promised her I would ask you. Three months ago. And after all that time, you see how well I handled it."

Don interjected a soft "Charlie…", but his brother held up his hand.

"Let me say this. The thing is, Don, if I can't even reach some level of comfort is asking you to do this, how could I ever deal with the…consequences? How could I raise my brother's child, pretending to all the world that child is mine?"

"You've been thinking about this for a while," Don said, "and I've only had a few hours. But there must be…I don't know, therapy or something…in a situation like this."

Charlie slumped a little in his seat. "We've seen a therapist," he said. Don was shocked. "I've seen one alone, too," Charlie said, and he looked so sad that Don felt his own heart crack a little. "I want to give Amita everything."

They were silent, then. Don ordered another tequila before he spoke. "Maybe if the three of us went together," he finally suggested, hurrying to add, "I mean, I'm not saying I would do this, but the least I can do for you is…research?"

Charlie put the bottle of water on the table and straightened. "No," he said, and waited until he was sure Don was sober, and looking at him. "Talking ourselves into this — letting someone else talk us into it — would be wrong. This would be a child, Don. That's too big a mistake to make for someone else. And don't ever say something like that," he added fiercely. "You passed 'the least you could do' for me quite some time ago."

Don listened to the ice melt in his glass.

"What are you going to do?" he finally asked.

Charlie just looked at him. "I'm going to drive you home," he said. "And then I'm going to talk to Amita."