A/N: Updates will be sporadic - I am currently travelling.

Chapter 5:

Don stepped around the corner, a cup in each hand, and stopped so abruptly that Megan almost walked into him. "What's the matter?" she asked. Don looked at her with a stunned expression on his face. "Don?"

"Look."

Megan looked. Through the glass window of the conference room she could see Charlie, his arms wrapped firmly around the little girl in his lap, his head resting on her smaller one. He was rocking gently from side to side and his lips were moving. Every so often Emma would nod, occasionally wiping her eyes or brushing the hair from her face. She played with Charlie's fingers as he spoke.

Megan gasped, causing the people behind her to crowd closer. Alan peered over her shoulder to take in the scene. David and Colby craned their necks to get a better view. Suddenly Charlie lifted his head and stared back at them. A slow smile crept over his face and he said something to Emma, who nodded. He stood, lifting her small body effortlessly and carrying her to the door. Don set the cups he was holding down and crossed over to the conference room just as they came out.

"Everything okay, buddy?" he asked. He could see tears on his brother's face.

Charlie nodded. "Everything's fine, Don," he replied. He glanced down. "Hey, want to meet another one of your army?"

Emma lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at Don. "Hello," she said quietly.

"Hi," Don replied, smiling. "My name's Don." At her nod, he added, "You must be Emma." She nodded again. He gestured behind him to where the others were standing. "My friends over there told me all about you. They said you guys had lots of fun today." Another nod. "Well," he said slowly. "I was wondering if you maybe might want to come to our house and have some supper?" When she looked at Charlie, he amended, "Well, it's really Charlie's house, but I visit sometimes, too." He exchanged a glance with Charlie. "Our dad over there," he indicated with a nod of his head. "He lives there too. What d'you say, Emma?" he asked. "You hungry?"

She directed her response to Charlie. "Is everybody coming?"

"W-well s-sure," he stammered, the question taking him by surprise. "If you want them to."

Emma seemed to mull this over for a moment. Shaking her head, she said. "No. I guess not."

"May be we can have them over tomorrow, huh?" Charlie asked. "Does that sound good?"

"Yes thank you." She looked at Don appraisingly for a moment and then held her arms out. "Carry me," she commanded.

Don grinned and scooped her from his brother's embrace. "Yes, ma'am!" he answered. Once settled firmly in his arms, Emma turned back to Charlie. "See?" she asked. "I told you."

Charlie smiled as he reached up to brush the hair out of her face. "Yes, you sure did," he agreed. "You were right." At his brother's puzzled expression, Charlie whispered, "She thinks you look nice."

Don smiled his thanks as they turned to the waiting group of people.

-x-x-x-x-x-

They didn't stay long at the FBI office after that. Goodbyes were said quickly and Don, Charlie, Alan and Emma were soon on their way home. Charlie took her on a tour of the house and grounds while Don and Alan started supper. They worked in silence for a while until Don asked, "What do you think?"

Looking up from the potatoes he was peeling, Alan replied, "Emma? She's a cute little girl."

"Yeah," Don said. "Yeah, she's cute, but that's not what I meant."

Alan looked out the window to where his youngest son was crouched by the koi pond, pointing out the fish to Emma. Sighing, he said, "I don't know Don. I can't tell yet."

Don nodded. He placed the bowl of salad he'd been assembling into the refrigerator and wiped his hands on his jeans. "I'll go make up the bed in the spare room," he announced, heading through the door.

His father watched him go, a speculative look on his face. Finally he shook his head and turned back to his potatoes. "Nah - can't be," he muttered.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Emma listened attentively as Charlie explained. "Everything has a pattern, Emma. The trick is to find it."

"Everything?"

Charlie nodded. "Mm hmm - take these fish for example..."

"What are they called?" she asked.

"Koi... they're called 'koi'," he replied, startled by the interruption.

Emma sighed in exasperation. "No. What do you call them?"

Charlie looked at her. "You mean their names?" he asked. She nodded. "I, uh... I don't know. I never gave them any."

"Did you ask?" Emma frowned and crossed her arms in disapproval.

Thinking fast, Charlie replied, "I don't understand fish."

"Oh," Emma nodded wisely. "I see." She dropped onto her knees to peer more closely into the water. "When's their birthday?"

Charlie shook his head. "They didn't tell me that either."

"Okay." She turned to face him. "When's your birthday?" she asked instead.

"September," he replied, smiling. "The fifth."

"Really?" she asked. "Mine's the eight."

"'Eighth'," Charlie corrected gently.

She tried it. "Eighth. The eighth." She nodded as though satisfied. Turning back to him, she asked, "Do you have a middle name?"

He nodded. "Edward," he replied. "You?"

"Charlotte." She frowned. "Isn't Charlie supposed to be Charles?"

"It is. Charlie's just what my friends and family call me." He sat cross-legged on the grass. "Maybe, because my birthday's on the fifth, and yours is on the eighth, we should have a big birthday party together." She looked at him warily. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Am I gonna live here?"

Charlie fell into stunned silence. He could see how much his answer meant to her. When he didn't reply, she shrugged and turned her attention to the koi pond. After a moment, she said, "Miss Portman said you wouldn't want me."

"Who's Miss Portman?"

"The lady who took me on the plane." She pulled at a tuft of grass and threw the blades in the water. "She was mean," Emma added.

Charlie swallowed. "She sounds very mean."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, broken only by Alan's voice calling them in to supper.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The three men watched as Emma picked at the food on her plate. Finally Alan leaned toward her and asked, "Aren't you hungry?" She shook her head minutely. He sat up and glanced at his eldest son.

Don cast a dark look at his brother before speaking. "Are you tired, Emma?" he asked. "I made up a bed for you - would you like to go to sleep now?"

Emma set her fork down carefully. Dropping her hands into her lap, she replied, "Yes, please."

Don put his utensils down, too. He offered her his hand as he stood. "Come on," he said. "I'll show you where everything is." The two of them made their way upstairs.

Alan turned to Charlie. "What happened?"

Charlie shook his head sadly. "I made a mistake." Alan waited for him to continue. Picking up a glass of water, Charlie took a small sip before adding, "I said something when I shouldn't have, and didn't say something when it was needed."

"Well, that was enlightening," Alan said sarcastically.

Charlie shook his head. "Just - leave it alone, Dad." He pushed his food around his plate sadly. "I shouldn't have said anything at all."

Alan set down his knife and fork. "Let me guess. You were talking like you were going to keep her, but when push came to shove, you couldn't say that much, right?"

"Like that," Charlie whispered.

Alan reached over and set his hand on his son's arm. "Charlie," he began gently. "You said you needed time to think." Charlie nodded. "So you got time to think. Now you have to act."

He sat in silence for a moment. "Wainwright sent someone named 'Miss Portman' with her on the plane."

"I know - Don told me." Alan withdrew his hand and picked up his cutlery. "David, Colby and Megan said she was pretty awful."

Charlie nodded. "Emma said she was mean. She told Emma I wouldn't want her."

Alan chewed thoughtfully. Swallowing, he asked, "You know what I saw today?" Without waiting for a response, he continued, "I saw someone I thought was pretty self-absorbed give a little girl a shoulder to cry on." Turning to Charlie, he added. "The thing you should be asking yourself is: If Wainwright came back tomorrow and said Emma had to go back to England with him, what would you do?"

Charlie sat quietly for a moment before shoving back his chair and heading for the stairs.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"There you go," Don said as he tucked the blanket around Emma's tiny shoulders. "How's that?"

"Fine, thank you."

Don regarded her small face thoughtfully. "What happened out there, Emma?" he asked. When she remained silent, he pressed, "Did something happen?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You can tell me, you know." He began rubbing her back in small circles. "I'm a really good listener."

She looked up at him briefly. "I asked if I can stay." She paused. "Could stay," she amended.

"Who, Charlie?" She nodded. "And what did he say?" A small shake of the head. "Nothing?" he asked. Another nod. Mentally cursing his brother, Don tried to explain. "Sweetheart, there's something you have to understand about Charlie. He's a mathematician - do you know what that means?"

"Mummy did maths," she whispered.

"Right," Don replied. "Did you ever ask her something, and she didn't answer you right away?"

Emma nodded. "She said she was thinking."

Don smiled slightly. "Charlie's like that. He has to spend a lot of time thinking. It's just the way he is. There's been lots of times when I ask him something and he doesn't answer." He raised his eyebrows. "Now if you ask him something that has to do with math..."

"Maths," she corrected.

"Maths, then," he amended. "If you ask him about that, then he'll go on for hours about it. But normal stuff? Forget it." He smoothed her hair. "Understand?"

"So I can stay?"

Don frowned. "I can't say yes or no about that, Emma," he replied. "It's not up to me. Your mom said Charlie was supposed to look after you, not me." He leaned down a brushed a featherlight kiss across her brow. "Don't worry. Whatever happens, we'll make sure you're safe."

She snuggled down into her blanket as Don stood. "My army," she said.

"You bet." Don headed for the door. "Sweet dreams, Emma." He pulled open the door and just about collided with his brother. Glancing back into the bedroom, Don shut the door softly before hissing, "What the hell did you do, Charlie?"

Charlie took a step back. "What do you mean?" he whispered.

"That little girl is heartbroken at the thought that you're going to send her back!" Don growled. "You built her hopes up, and then just sat there when she asked you if she was gonna stay." He shook his head. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Charlie pulled his head back sharply as though he'd been physically hit. "That would be none of your business, Don," he replied coldly. "This is my problem, not yours."

"Oh is that what this is?" Don sneered. "A 'problem'? Not a person, not someone's life - a 'problem'." He crossed his arms over his chest, clenching his jaw angrily. "Well, I suppose if you reduce it down to an equation, the solution should come to you in a heartbeat, right?"

Charlie looked at his brother in surprise. "What's gotten into you, Don?" he asked. "Earlier you said I had my own life and my own plans to consider."

Some of the fury seeped out of the FBI agent and he let his arms drop to his sides. "Yeah, Charlie. I did. You told me it wasn't just about you anymore, though." He lifted his chin stubbornly. "And not saying anything, Charlie - that was just stupid."

"I know." Charlie stepped to the door and grabbed the knob. "I'm going to fix that right now."