A is for Acceptance Letters

By Dragon's Daughter 1980

(Written for the 2006 Summer Alphabet Challenge)

Disclaimer: Other than being a devoted fan, I don't have anything to do with Numb3rs.

Author's Note: To avoid confusion….The person narrating this story is Elizabeth Henderson who is a witch from a law enforcement family, so she will occasionally make oblique references to her part of the world that don't quite make sense. As a quick family tree, Don and Robin have three children: William, Benjamin, and Sarah. Charlie and Amita have two: Anna and Richard. As a side note, Elizabeth has two older siblings: Amy and Jordan.


"Will you two stop it?" I say, only half-irritated. I've spent the past fifty minutes watching my best friends pace in the living room of our shared apartment and my nerves are wearing a little thin, partially because I'm just as anxious as they are. I just have more practice concealing it. "Worrying about it isn't going to make the mail carrier come any faster, you know."

Anna and Sarah Eppes shoot withering looks at me and I hold my hands up in a placating gesture of surrender. When they have that mulish expression on their faces, it's hopeless; they take after their parents in that. Trying to tell any Eppes family member what to do or think is an exercise in futility. My mother has told me that the only two ways to get an Eppes to do what you need them to do is either appeal to their sense of duty and humanity or forcibly sedate them and put them in a locked room with no windows. I've never been a hundred percent sure if she was joking when she said that, but I do know that she was forced to put Anna and Sarah's fathers and grandfather under protective custody once, before I was born.

Anna throws herself down onto the couch, making me bounce a little at the impact. She glares at me, "How do you do it? Stay so freaking calm?"

I look calmly at her, knowing my serene expression is probably going to infuriate her. "I've had lots of practice Sarah." I give her my half-smile, "Besides, with great-aunts like mine, I should know some things."

She groans in envy, but I catch the fleeting grin on her face. My great-aunts work for the government and are very good at being closed-mouthed about their jobs. They've taught me how to be calm under pressure, or at the very least, appear to be calm. The reason Sarah's smiling is because another one of them is a Crown Prosecutor and very generous with her time and expertise. The two of them have hit off very well and are almost in constant communication with each other. Sarah hopes to eventually join her mother in the AUSA, so she wants to go to Columbia for her graduate studies. The reason she's so jittery is that today is when she'll learn whether or not she got into its prestigious Juris Doctor program.

Anna smiles slightly too at my remark and joins us on the couch. While she is older than me by a few months, we are both hoping for the same letter from the Bureau's interviewers. I've known her since we were babies in the crib and she's like a twin sister to me. She says that my entrance into the Academy is near-guaranteed; with a grandfather, mother, and sister in the ranks, I have a family advantage. (Of course, with her reasoning, she also has a family advantage. Her uncle and older cousin are FBI agents.) I, personally, know that I don't. First of all, the Bureau could care less about my relatives' careers. Second of all, I didn't even tell my parents that I had applied to Quantico. But mostly because my family believes in hard work and promoting on merit. If I get in, it's because I deserve to get in, and not because my mother's maiden name is Tang.

I, personally, have no doubt Anna will get in. She's smart, speaks Hebrew and is an expert in technology. She's flexible, reliable, honest, and thinks quickly on her feet. I can't imagine a better candidate for Academy entrance than her. I also have no doubt at the uproar it's going to cause when she tells her parents she's been accepted. Her parents are academics, but they have experienced the heart-wrenching fears of nearly losing her uncle in the line of duty more than once. They will not be happy when they learn of Anna's decision; she is, after all, their little girl and firstborn, who doesn't have to carry a gun on her hip and the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her father has no control over what her uncle does for a living, and he doesn't have control over her future, but no father wants to acknowledge the fact that his little girl wants to put herself in harm's way on a daily basis. Oh the fireworks that are going to go off when she tells them…

For that matter, I have no doubt of the uproar it's going to cause with my own family. I told them I was looking to enter the law enforcement profession, but my parents don't have a clue that I applied for the FBI; they think I'm aiming to work for Interpol since I'm fairly fluent in Mandarin, French, and Arabic. Plus, my two older siblings are highly protective of me. I just know that Mom is going to have a fit and wail quietly about why could I have not chosen a non-law-enforcement career like my father? Of course, this time, I am not going to point out that Dad's not your average doctor either.

So it is with a fair amount of nervous anticipation and foreboding that the three of us are waiting for our letters. If Columbia falls through, Sarah already has an offer from Georgetown. If Anna doesn't get in, she's going to take the LAPD entrance test. As for me? If I don't make it, I'm going to take the route that my mother did, and apply to another federal department, one that may or may not exist, depending on who you're talking to, but that's a whole other issue.

A knock on the door yanks all three of us out of our thoughts and we turn toward the doorway in unison. The knock comes again, this time accompanied by a familiar voice, "Sis? Anna? Lizzie? You gals home?" We hear the jingle of keys and I manage to get myself off the couch. Just as my hand touches the doorknob, the door swings open and the tall, black-haired man on the other side looks at me in surprise. He pockets his keys as he walks in.

"Well, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything," says Sarah's oldest brother with a smile as I step back to let him into the apartment. I nearly step on someone's foot; a quick glance back tells me that Anna and Sarah are standing in a clump right behind me.

"No, you weren't." I'm well aware of his scrutinizing glance that quickly sweeps to cover his cousin and his youngest sibling. He knows something is up; he just doesn't know if it's payback for his prank a few months ago or something else.

"Aren't you supposed to be working today?" asks Sarah. He nods sharply, his lighthearted air gone, replaced by grim professionalism. My eyes flicker up to meet his brown ones and William nods almost imperceptibly at me. I look away and bite back the curse words that fly across my mind. 'Here. They think the next target is someone here.'

"What's wrong?" questions Anna, having caught the little silent conversation between her cousin and me and not happy at being left out of the loop. It's not William's fault that he hasn't said anything; he can't talk about an ongoing investigation, after all. And the only reason I know is because my older sister, Amy, warned me to be careful, especially at night.

"Let's talk about this in the living room, okay?" he suggests, herding us into said area where we all take seats.

"You've all been watching the news, right?" William says once we're all situated. We nod. "So you know about the serial murders." We nod again, all of our minds jumping to the reason why he's here.

"Uncle Charlie thinks that we're a probable target," Sarah states flatly, "And Dad sent you to warn us."

William nods, "He's hoping you'll all consider moving back home. He doesn't like the idea of you three girls living alone."

"We'll be fine," says Anna. She waves in the direction of the kitchen, where we keep a .45 in the knife drawer. "We stay together at all times and we went to the firing range last night."

"We'll think about it, William," interrupts Sarah with a quick glare at Anna. I just keep quiet. "And we'll be very, very careful."

"All right," he sighs. "Dad definitely won't be happy to hear that. But," he holds up our mail, "something tells me that your parents are going to be pissed, Anna. What's this?" He holds up two envelopes with the FBI's crest in the corner with a stern look at Anna and me.

'Busted,' I singsong to myself. 'Mom is going to kill me as soon as he gets back to the office and tells her.'

"What's what?" asks Anna, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. He gives her a withering look, one that's probably made weak-willed suspects whimper and then confess as fast as possible. Not one of us flinches, which is a good thing, given our potential future professions.

"Don't pretend you don't know," he says firmly. "Have you told your parents that you applied to Quantico? Both of you?"

"On the 14th," says Anna. He frowns at her, "That's tomorrow. They don't know?" Anna just gives him a sweet innocent smile. He turns to me, "And you Elizabeth?"

"Well," I stare at a point on the wall over his shoulder, "the rejection rate is fairly high. So no, I haven't." I glare at him, "And don't you dare tell my family before I do."

He just shakes his head and turns to Sarah. "Sis, please tell me you're not going to become an agent too."

"Nope," Sarah says cheerfully, "I'm just going to join the AUSA's office." William makes a smothered noise that is somewhere between a relieved sigh and a groan. He stands up and hands me the stack of mail, the two letters on top.

"I'll be sure to keep my mouth shut and avoid your mother and sister for a few days, Lizzie." He looks down at Anna, "And I will definitely avoid the fireworks tomorrow when you tell the family." She smiles serenely again, pointing out, "It isn't like you told your parents either until you were accepted."

He sighs, "You are impossible, Anna. All three of you." We trail him as he heads for the door. Just before he leaves, he says, "Be careful, all of you. And…good luck with those letters."

"Thanks," I smile and shut the door behind him, locking it securely. When I turn around, Anna and Sarah are staring at me, clearly nervous. I toss the junk mail and advertisements onto the hallway table and hand them what we've all been waiting for.

"I'll go first," says Sarah, breaking the silence. Her cousin and I nod. She opens the envelope, unfolds the letter and reads through it rapidly. It's at the end that she finally smiles and nearly sags against the wall, "Yes."

"You're in?" asks Anna, a grin spreading quickly across her face.

"Yes," Sarah's head bobs in a nod, "I'm in. I'm going to Columbia!"

I laugh with joy: one dream a reality, two more waiting to see if they would come true. Sarah sobers quickly though, "Let's hold off on the celebration first. I want to know if you got in."

Anna and I exchange nervous looks as we both flip our envelopes over.

"Together?" she suggests and I nod. I know my hands are shaking as I open the letter and unfold the letter. When I'm done, I look at her and she looks at me.

"Well?" asks Sarah quietly. I take a deep breath and sigh slowly, "I'm in." Anna nods, "Me too."

"Seriously?" Sarah's voice squeaks a little in surprise. I nod and hand her my letter as Anna does with hers. The lawyer-to-be scans both acceptance letters quickly and then launches herself at us. We're in the Bureau. Training starts in a month. At the moment, it still feels so unreal.

"So," says Anna, once we've untangled ourselves from our impulsive group hug, heading towards the kitchen. "I think this calls for some cider and celebration."

"Definitely," I say. As Sarah gets out the tall wineglasses and Anna struggles with the cork, I look at the acceptance letters sitting on the countertop. Our lives have changed today, but in a way that we've prayed for.

"To Columbia!" says Sarah, holding up her glass.

"To the Academy," says Anna quietly with a smile at me.

"To our futures," I add. The two cousins exchange a quick smile and echo, "To our futures." I smile; the criminals of our generation aren't going to know what hit them.