Detente (Numb3rs double-drabble, PG)
Oct. 3rd, 2008 08:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
browngirlTitle: Detente
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters/Pairing: Billy Cooper/Don Eppes, Alan Eppes
Rating: PG for implications
Spoilers: None beyond the identity of William Cooper, Fedcake of Hotness
Notes/Warnings/Whatnot: Contains fanon. For the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
numb3rs100 prompt of "Truce"
Disclaimer: These characters and their settings do not belong to me.
Watching Billy stride ahead of him, Don fervently hopes this won't wreck Thanksgiving. He knows he's being unfair; his father is the most gracious man Don can think of, and Billy can actually behave himself. Last night he even volunteered a promise that he would, kneeling in front of Don, blue eyes lit up with laughter.
Still, Don feels like a teenager bringing home a date from the wrong side of the tracks. He hasn't been home since last Passover, and he knows who his Dad holds responsible for that.
Don falters halfway, and Billy glances back, smirks, and waves him onward. Once again, Don guiltily thanks God or whomever that Billy's amused by his worrying; if Don were the one stuck thinking his partner might be ashamed of him, he'd be a surly bundle of nerves.
The front door opens and Don hopes for a moment it's Charlie or Mom... nope, Dad, hands clasped. "Agent Cooper?"
"Mr. Eppes, sir?" Billy offers a hand, back straight, face solemn like a kid being polite.
Don makes himself keep walking, and just as he reaches them his father reaches out. "Call me Alan," he says, shaking Billy's hand firmly, and Don can finally breathe.
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters/Pairing: Billy Cooper/Don Eppes, Alan Eppes
Rating: PG for implications
Spoilers: None beyond the identity of William Cooper, Fedcake of Hotness
Notes/Warnings/Whatnot: Contains fanon. For the
numb3rs100 prompt of "Truce"Disclaimer: These characters and their settings do not belong to me.
Watching Billy stride ahead of him, Don fervently hopes this won't wreck Thanksgiving. He knows he's being unfair; his father is the most gracious man Don can think of, and Billy can actually behave himself. Last night he even volunteered a promise that he would, kneeling in front of Don, blue eyes lit up with laughter.
Still, Don feels like a teenager bringing home a date from the wrong side of the tracks. He hasn't been home since last Passover, and he knows who his Dad holds responsible for that.
Don falters halfway, and Billy glances back, smirks, and waves him onward. Once again, Don guiltily thanks God or whomever that Billy's amused by his worrying; if Don were the one stuck thinking his partner might be ashamed of him, he'd be a surly bundle of nerves.
The front door opens and Don hopes for a moment it's Charlie or Mom... nope, Dad, hands clasped. "Agent Cooper?"
"Mr. Eppes, sir?" Billy offers a hand, back straight, face solemn like a kid being polite.
Don makes himself keep walking, and just as he reaches them his father reaches out. "Call me Alan," he says, shaking Billy's hand firmly, and Don can finally breathe.
