Fic: Interruptions, Assistance and Apple
Titles: Interruptions, Assistance and Apple
Author: Corona
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Charlie/Colby, Charlie/Ian
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I own nothing.
AN: Part 2 of the drabbles, written for emmademarais for the prompts she gave me from numb3rs100
Interruptions, Charlie/Colby, PG-13, for prompt #155 'Therapy.' 200 Words
People normally turn their phone off when they don't want to be interrupted.
Though Charlie hasn't had that luxury for a few years now.
Though this time it isn't his phone, it's Colby's.
He answers anyway, since Colby is...currently distracted.
"Colby's busy," Charlie provides, though this is no longer technically true. Colby has stopped dragging his underwear over his hips, and is now wearing an irritatingly intent expression, that the FBI is so good at teaching people.
He's briefly annoyed at this, annoyed enough that he misses the beginning of Don's sentence, catches the word 'zombie' and makes him repeat himself.
"Don really that's hilarious but-"
Don is insistent on the other end of the line.
"What do you mean you're not kidding?"
Colby raises a curious eyebrow, which considering his position is briefly amusing.
"That's not funny."
He's never heard Don like this before, quiet, sharp, frighteningly intense.
"Biology doesn't work like that...people do not rise from the grave and shamble about among the living-"
Except apparently they do.
Charlie pulls the phone away from his ear, stares at it, then hands it down to Colby.
"Don wants to talk to you, apparently there's a zombie invasion."
Assistance, Charlie/Ian, PG-13, for prompt # 36 'Relinquish.' 300 Words
Charlie's done this before, but suddenly his hands refuse to obey simple commands, the vest is heavy and the velcro, for some undetectable reason, will not come undone.
"Do you need a hand?" Ian Edgerton has appeared, which seems to be a particular skill of his, he's leant against the edge of the van, looking every inch relaxed.
Charlie suspects that's a subtle lie.
A few more seconds and he looks amused.
Charlie breathes out.
"I'm getting better at putting them on."
Ian raises an eyebrow.
"Getting them off is...well that's another matter." Charlie throws his hands up. "Some days they seem remarkably complicated."
"I think it suits you."
Charlie looks up through his hair.
"You're making fun of me."
Ian takes a step forward.
"I wouldn't do that," he looks far too amused.
Charlie lets his hand drop, and Ian's slides under the bottom of the vest in its place. He lets him unstrap it, and slip it over his head. He suspects his hair is attempting new, and interesting, permutations of its own. Though he's more concerned with trying to get the rest of the clips undone, so he settles for attempting to blow it out of his eyes.
Ian raises a hand, then makes a noise; lets it drop.
Charlie looks at him curiously.
"You really shouldn't tidy people without their permission," Ian says with a smile.
"You can touch me," Charlie says in quiet amusement. "If you want to."
Ian looks at him for a long moment, then lifts a hand, pushes the weight of his hair back in one careful movement. His hand strays, just a little, fingers skating the curve of his temple, and the line of his neck before, very carefully, retreating entirely.
"You should be careful how you phrase things professor."
Apple, Charlie/Ian, PG, for prompt #40 'Loss' 100 Words
Charlie slides into the room with an armful of folders and an apple in his mouth.
Only to find nowhere to put the folders down.
For a second Ian isn't sure which to take, he decides that in Charlie's case talking is probably the first priority. He leans forward, wraps his fingers round the shiny green fruit, very carefully pulls it free.
Charlie gives him a half-flustered, half-grateful look
"Thank you."
And then he's off, making graphs and explaining things in his unique, intent way.
He seems to have forgotten about the apple.
Ian takes a bite out of it.
Author: Corona
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Charlie/Colby, Charlie/Ian
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I own nothing.
AN: Part 2 of the drabbles, written for emmademarais for the prompts she gave me from numb3rs100
Interruptions, Charlie/Colby, PG-13, for prompt #155 'Therapy.' 200 Words
People normally turn their phone off when they don't want to be interrupted.
Though Charlie hasn't had that luxury for a few years now.
Though this time it isn't his phone, it's Colby's.
He answers anyway, since Colby is...currently distracted.
"Colby's busy," Charlie provides, though this is no longer technically true. Colby has stopped dragging his underwear over his hips, and is now wearing an irritatingly intent expression, that the FBI is so good at teaching people.
He's briefly annoyed at this, annoyed enough that he misses the beginning of Don's sentence, catches the word 'zombie' and makes him repeat himself.
"Don really that's hilarious but-"
Don is insistent on the other end of the line.
"What do you mean you're not kidding?"
Colby raises a curious eyebrow, which considering his position is briefly amusing.
"That's not funny."
He's never heard Don like this before, quiet, sharp, frighteningly intense.
"Biology doesn't work like that...people do not rise from the grave and shamble about among the living-"
Except apparently they do.
Charlie pulls the phone away from his ear, stares at it, then hands it down to Colby.
"Don wants to talk to you, apparently there's a zombie invasion."
Assistance, Charlie/Ian, PG-13, for prompt # 36 'Relinquish.' 300 Words
Charlie's done this before, but suddenly his hands refuse to obey simple commands, the vest is heavy and the velcro, for some undetectable reason, will not come undone.
"Do you need a hand?" Ian Edgerton has appeared, which seems to be a particular skill of his, he's leant against the edge of the van, looking every inch relaxed.
Charlie suspects that's a subtle lie.
A few more seconds and he looks amused.
Charlie breathes out.
"I'm getting better at putting them on."
Ian raises an eyebrow.
"Getting them off is...well that's another matter." Charlie throws his hands up. "Some days they seem remarkably complicated."
"I think it suits you."
Charlie looks up through his hair.
"You're making fun of me."
Ian takes a step forward.
"I wouldn't do that," he looks far too amused.
Charlie lets his hand drop, and Ian's slides under the bottom of the vest in its place. He lets him unstrap it, and slip it over his head. He suspects his hair is attempting new, and interesting, permutations of its own. Though he's more concerned with trying to get the rest of the clips undone, so he settles for attempting to blow it out of his eyes.
Ian raises a hand, then makes a noise; lets it drop.
Charlie looks at him curiously.
"You really shouldn't tidy people without their permission," Ian says with a smile.
"You can touch me," Charlie says in quiet amusement. "If you want to."
Ian looks at him for a long moment, then lifts a hand, pushes the weight of his hair back in one careful movement. His hand strays, just a little, fingers skating the curve of his temple, and the line of his neck before, very carefully, retreating entirely.
"You should be careful how you phrase things professor."
Apple, Charlie/Ian, PG, for prompt #40 'Loss' 100 Words
Charlie slides into the room with an armful of folders and an apple in his mouth.
Only to find nowhere to put the folders down.
For a second Ian isn't sure which to take, he decides that in Charlie's case talking is probably the first priority. He leans forward, wraps his fingers round the shiny green fruit, very carefully pulls it free.
Charlie gives him a half-flustered, half-grateful look
"Thank you."
And then he's off, making graphs and explaining things in his unique, intent way.
He seems to have forgotten about the apple.
Ian takes a bite out of it.