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browngirlTitle: Golden Hour
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Charlie/Amita
Warnings/Spoilers: Het. Set somewhen in the first 5 episodes of Season 5, and somewhat spoilerish for Charlie's situation.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me.
Though he woke from fitful sleep over an hour ago, Charlie lies alone in bed watching the light swell across the ceiling, idle bits of math spinning through his thoughts. The hue morphs from gray through blue, reaching pink by the time he hears the front door open and footsteps climbing the stairs.
They approach much too slowly; Charlie doesn't let himself count the heartbeats between them. His bedroom door creaks open and Amita steps through, drooping, even her hair limp.
Charlie doesn't ask how it went, or if they caught the suspects. "Hey."
"Hi." Amita smiles vaguely and shrugs out of her clothes, dropping them where she stands. The early sunlight further gilds her skin, but she's so wilted his admiration is merely academic. Down to her underwear, she sways, glancing around for her overnight bag. "I should find pajamas."
"Just come here." Charlie holds out his arms. Amita blinks heavily and smiles, totters over and falls as much as she sits. He pulls the blanket over her as she nestles her head on his chest, and strokes her hair as she mutters, "thanks," and dozes off almost instantaneously.
Charlie doesn't let himself think about the difference between the hours of sleep medically recommended for adult women and how much Amita hasn't had in the last three weeks. He doesn't try to estimate how much help he could be, how much more work she's doing now. He holds Amita as she sleeps and watches the light on the ceiling shift to gold.
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Charlie/Amita
Warnings/Spoilers: Het. Set somewhen in the first 5 episodes of Season 5, and somewhat spoilerish for Charlie's situation.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me.
Though he woke from fitful sleep over an hour ago, Charlie lies alone in bed watching the light swell across the ceiling, idle bits of math spinning through his thoughts. The hue morphs from gray through blue, reaching pink by the time he hears the front door open and footsteps climbing the stairs.
They approach much too slowly; Charlie doesn't let himself count the heartbeats between them. His bedroom door creaks open and Amita steps through, drooping, even her hair limp.
Charlie doesn't ask how it went, or if they caught the suspects. "Hey."
"Hi." Amita smiles vaguely and shrugs out of her clothes, dropping them where she stands. The early sunlight further gilds her skin, but she's so wilted his admiration is merely academic. Down to her underwear, she sways, glancing around for her overnight bag. "I should find pajamas."
"Just come here." Charlie holds out his arms. Amita blinks heavily and smiles, totters over and falls as much as she sits. He pulls the blanket over her as she nestles her head on his chest, and strokes her hair as she mutters, "thanks," and dozes off almost instantaneously.
Charlie doesn't let himself think about the difference between the hours of sleep medically recommended for adult women and how much Amita hasn't had in the last three weeks. He doesn't try to estimate how much help he could be, how much more work she's doing now. He holds Amita as she sleeps and watches the light on the ceiling shift to gold.
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Date: 2009-04-19 04:59 am (UTC)