Fic: LA - London, Chapter 1/2 (Numb3rs, Don / Martin, David / Ian / Bobby)
Title: LA - London, Chapter 1/2
Pair: Charlie Eppes / Colby Granger,
Don Eppes / Martin Fridegord,
David Sinclair / Ian Edgerton
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Feedback: Always Welcome
NUMB3RS Main List
“I gotta send Mrs. Marston some flowers in the morning…” David stated. He buried his face against Bobby’s thigh and let out a contended sigh. “I don’t know why kids like slumber parties, but I’m glad they do.”
“And the grown-ups can have their own slumber party.” Ian commented from his awkward position, bent uncomfortable between the two men. “Somebody move, my leg’s falling asleep.”
David moved obediently so Ian could rearrange his legs. The sniper groaned, trying to shake the slight numbness off his limbs. Bobby chuckled lowly and stroked Ian’s chest.
“What time are you picking her up?”
“Mrs. Marston drops all the girls to the school in the morning, so…” David stretched his back leisurely. “I got all night and all day before I pick her up.”
“The upside of suspension… and I’m going in late tomorrow, because Martin’s away…” Bobby pressed a little kiss on Ian’s shoulder. “… and someone doesn’t have a gig till the end of the week…”
“I’m the oldest one of us… give me ten minutes.” Ian groaned.
“And I’m the second oldest.” David added and grinned widely. “I’ll need five minutes.”
“Fine, I’ll go take a shower.” Bobby climbed over the two men and out of the bed. “But I expect you to be ready when I come back.”
-------------------------------
“Okay, can you see me?” Don asked and waved his hand in front of the small camera.
“Still no.” On the computer screen Martin sipped his coffee calmly and waited for Don to continue. “But I got two hours, so don’t worry.”
“Two hours before what?”
“Before I have to leave for a meeting.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“I’m eight hours ahead, it’s seven AM here.”
“I forgot that… Now?”
“Nope.”
“Wait a sec…” Don fiddled with few of the cords leading to the small camera.
“It`s working now.” Martin’s voice announced through the speakers. “Sit down so I can see you.”
“Finally.” Don sat down on the well padded chair of Martin’s home office and positioned it in front of the webcam. “You said it would be easy!”
“It is if you read the instructions first.”
“I’m starting to understand why you got this thing…” Don leaned back against the backrest. “My back is singing "I Will Always Love You" to this chair…”
“Just tell me it’s not that cover version.” Martin grinned. “The original was better.”
“Never heard the original, but this…” Don rubbed his back against the dark brown leather that covered the thick padding. “This is almost as good as sex.”
“If you start making out with my chair, you’ll buy it.”
“It’s worth it. I’ll take advantage of it and we’ll have a litter of little ottomans by the time you come back.”
“Remember to use protection.” Martin paused and took a closer look at Don. “Where did you get that shirt?”
“I…” Don looked mortally embarrassed. He glared down at the black T-shirt, that had the text “Boy Toy” written in large pink letters. “I got it from Chuck.”
“How come I’ve never seen that?”
“You think I would ever use this outside? I’ve never been desperate enough to wear this. I’ll rather put on something that smells like old sweat and try to look like I haven’t even noticed.”
“How is it possible you don’t have any clean shirts, I’ve been gone for three days, and I know that when push comes to shove you can use the washing machine all by yourself.”
“I had an accident with a can of coke. I opened it and it just went everywhere. My work clothes were the only ones that survived. This one was stashed in the bottom of the closet.”
“You could have borrowed something from my closet.”
“Nah, I got most of my stuff in the washer right now. I’ll take them out before I go to bed.” Don stretched his hands and brought them behind his head. “So, how’s London?”
“Foggy. Meeting after meeting and Christie’s been snapping with his camera ever since we got here. It’s his first time outside the US. He even ran into a bobby when he tried to take some pictures at Whitehall.”
“I though Bobby was staying in L.A.-”
“Not Bobby, a bobby. A policeman.”
“Right. So was he shooting something he shouldn’t have or-”
“No, but he couldn’t find a good angle and he kept going left till he was in the middle of the road. Luckily no one got hurt.”
“That’s good.” Don agreed. “He’s not there with you, is he?”
“No, he’s got his own room. You should have heard him trying to order from the room service… His accent is so thick that even I don’t understand him sometimes. The hotel waiter didn’t have a chance.”
“Where is he from? Houston?”
“Dallas, and ten years away from Texas haven’t done anything to his accent.” Martin took a sip from his coffee. “My favourite hotel this side of the Atlantic, the only place where you can get coffee strong enough to overpower a jetlag” He emptied the rest of the mug with one long sip. “Whats new in L.A.?”
“Same as always, nothing new.”
“And work?”
“Hell. With flames and all. We got the guys, but no one got more than two hours of sleep last night.”
“Shouldn’t you be going to bed already?”
“I tried, but I can’t unwind. Too much adrenaline going around.”
“What kind of a case was it?”
“Double homicide. But we got them.”
“That’s good. You really should try to get some sleep.”
“I’ll try when we’re done. Maybe I’ll watch the home-shopping network and late night re-runs, they always put me to sleep. I wanted to see you before I go to bed.”
“Two more days and I’ll be back.”
“Would you do something for me?” Don asked innocently.
“What?”
“Take that robe off, I want some nicer material for my dreams than two mutilated corpses.”
“When you put it like that…” Martin laughed and shrugged off the pale blue bathrobe. He yanked his chair closer to the webcam. “Any other requests?”
“Yeah.” Don’s eyes mapped out the familiar body, moving along the tanned skin, pausing a second at the small scar below his ribs. Don remembered seeing old pictures of Martin, and the change time had brought was obvious. Steady training had kept him in shape, but the softness of youth had left little by little, making muscles more visible and defined under the skin. A small patch of light hair started below his bellybutton and turned darker just before it disappeared under his boxers.
Don’s hand wandered down to rub himself through his pyjama bottoms. He slid his hand into his pants and looked up to meet Martin’s eyes.
“Talk to me.”
Chapter 2/2 (NC-17)