browngirl

Title: Fine Like Sparkling
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Rating: As it is: PG-13 with warnings. As it would have been: same
Pairing: Don/Charlie
Notes: Don & Charlie are the vaunted Eppes brothers. For

numb3rs100's 'Room Key' prompt.
27 Room Key
Fine Like Sparkling

Author's Note: Why yes, this was inspired by

iscaris's wonderful vid, "Save The Last Dance".

Damn, Don thinks appreciatively, glancing around at Charlie's fellow convention-goers, picking out girls in shimmery outfits. He hadn't been very happy with his parents for ordering him to chaperone Charlie, but then they hadn't mentioned the amazing costumes, especially the girls in the skimpy ones.

Charlie's showing off for a couple of the skimpiest, covertly glancing at the girls' tits as they coo over his origami. Don smiles at his little brother, a rock star of a geek, and when a passing redhead in purple straps gives him the eye he gives her a grin.

He doesn't go after her, though, and he's not worried about Charlie getting his heart squashed by an elf or sorceress; he'd stopped being annoyed when their Mom gave him the hotel reservation. Their room key in his back pocket, Don knows eventually Charlie will smile at him like he's smiling at that brunette, eventually Charlie will say, "I'm tired, let's go." The girls can giggle at Charlie, hug him and tug on his curls, but Don knows who's going to grab a double handful and kiss that smile off Charlie's mouth.

Until then, Don can hang out here, watching the girls flutter and Charlie shine.

* * * * * * *

Title: untitled as yet
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Rating: As it is: PG. As it would have been: PG-13 at most. But with warnings.
Pairing: Don/Charlie
Notes: "Paint drabble for

schnaucl" was the working title, as "Paint" was the prompt and it was sparked off of her comment to the "In The Darkness" series.

When Charlie opens the box he feels his eyes go wide, and it's a good thing he swallowed his mouthful of beer. A turtleneck. Don bought him a turtleneck, and one glance past Dad's indulgent smile to Don's smirk proves Charlie's conjecture upon his motives entirely correct.

"I've only got one turtleneck," Charlie had teased, as Don buttoned his collar for him, tugging it up as far as possible. "Just one, and now I'll have to wear it every day till all of these fade, because of you."

[Charlie says, "a turtleneck", Don says, "do you like it?" and Charlie teases, "what are you going to do, paint me green? This isn't my color." Don laughs and says, "you have no idea what your color *is*, Chuck," as Alan huffs at his sons' seemingly fraternal bickering and Charlie and Don share a significant look.]

* * * * * * *

Title: Intangible Wishes
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Rating: As it is: PG-15 with warnings. As it would have been: same
Pairing: Amita/Charlie, Don/Charlie
Notes: [Post-]Deathfic. For prompt # 183 Rescue

Intangible Wishes

The house is silent, full of flowers and grief, and Charlie's ragged sobs carry clearly through the garage wall. Amita drags herself towards the sound, wishing uselessly one more time for that split second's difference between an ordinary day and this Alan-shaped hole in everyone's lives.

Don's voice is low and soothing, so Amita stops, her cheek curving stiffly into a tired smile as she turns back. She loves Charlie, of course, but even now Don can take better care of him than anyone else--

A strangely familiar noise tugs at her ear, a soft wet smack that can't possibly be--

Amita pushes the door open and has to clutch the frame, the world lurching around her like an earthquake. Don's hands are curved to Charlie's cheeks, Don's mouth is gentle and fervent on Charlie's, Don is kissing Amita's fiance, Charlie, his brother, until Amita gasps aloud.

If Amita had her wishes now she'd wish to forget she ever saw this, that she'd gone back into the house, that she could sink right through the floor. But nothing can rescue this moment, save them from this truth, she sees nothing but two pairs of identically dark, shocked eyes fixed on her.