New Year's Fic for auryn_wren

[littlemimm]

Recipient: auryn_wren
Author: telperion_15
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.

Title: Between A Rock And A Hard Place
Pairings: Don Eppes/Charlie Eppes, Charlie Eppes/Ian Edgerton
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Incest
Summary: Is there any way out of a no-win situation?
Author's Note: Thanks to the lovely fredbassett for the beta.



Between A Rock And A Hard Place

It was a miracle, Don reflected later, that his gun had remained steady under such circumstances.

It was almost as if this were any other hostage situation, and this were any other hostage. He shut his emotions away in a little box at the back of his mind, ignoring the flutterings of panic that were beating at the edges of his control, and instead concentrated on aiming his weapon, fixing his stance, regulating his breathing. He didn't have a clean shot, but he would be ready if the situation changed.

A hundred yards to his right, up on the ridgeline and, Don prayed, concealed from view, was Ian Edgerton. Having the sniper on the scene made Don feel a tiny bit better about things. The bastard in front of him might think he had himself effectively shielded from the guns of the FBI agents, but he could have no clue that he was also being watched through the sight of a high-powered long-distance rifle. Edgerton was the best shot Don had ever seen, and if he saw the tiniest opening, he would take it. He wouldn't miss.

And it was important that he didn't. They'd been chasing this deadbeat murdering loser for nearly three days now, and had finally managed to get him cornered. But, like so many cornered animals, this guy had lashed out. A victim had gotten too close, and he'd taken his chance. So now he had a human body to protect him from the possibility of being shot. However, unfortunately for him, he'd chosen the wrong body to use as a shield.

Don watched dispassionately ignoringthepanic as Adam Larson's arm tightened around Charlie's neck. He saw his brother's grimace of pain, although Charlie didn't appear to be having any trouble breathing...yet. What he couldn't see was the gun he knew Larson had prodded into Charlie's back. He wouldn't know if Larson had pulled the trigger until it was already too late.

And with Larson's own back pressed against the wooden slats of the maintenance shed, Don knew Ian wouldn't have a clear shot yet. Not enough of Larson was exposed that Edgerton could risk a shot without hitting Charlie. Don needed to get Larson away from the building. He thought fast.

"David," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth. Sinclair was knelt down to his left, partially concealed behind the open door of one of the SUVs. With so many agents pointing guns at him, Larson surely wouldn't miss David if he moved.

"Yeah?" David muttered back, without looking at Don.

"When I tell you, slide round the back of the SUV, then circle around through the bushes until you're on Larson's right. Stay in his peripheral vision, and when you hear the signal, move enough to attract his attention. I need him to turn towards you."

"Got it," replied David quietly. "What's the signal?"

"When you hear me tell him he's making a mistake," said Don. "Don't let him get a clear shot at you, though. Stay in the bushes. He's unlikely to remove his gun from Charlie's back -- that would put him at a disadvantage -- but we shouldn't take any chances. Just do enough to make him move a bit."

David nodded once. Don glanced at Larson. He appeared to have been momentarily distracted by something Charlie had said, and wasn't looking at them.

"Go now," whispered Don, and out of the corner of his eye he saw David slip away. Larson apparently didn't notice a thing.

Then Don saw Charlie flinch as Larson jabbed the gun harder into his back, and he knew he had to act quickly. The man was unstable, and the fact that shooting Charlie would leave him without bargaining chip was no guarantee that he wouldn't do it anyway.

"Give it up, Larson!" Don called, wondering at the same time how long he should give David to get into position. "You know you're leaving here either in the back of a police car, or in a body bag. You can't win, so why don't you just let your hostage go and come quietly." Part of Don was cringing at the clichés that were coming out of his mouth, but this kind of crap was all lowlifes like Larson understood.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Eppes?" Larson yelled back. "Particularly as it's your brother I'm poking a gun into right now. Well, I don't think so. Here's how I see things panning out. You give me a car, and a clear way out with Charlie here, and I don't shoot him. How does that sound?"

"Never going to happen." Don deliberately didn't catch Charlie's eye. Charlie had worked with him for long enough now to know what the stakes were -- Don couldn't let this scumbag get away, not even if it meant risking his brother's life. Still, he didn't need to see the mixture of fear and acceptance that he knew would be reflected in Charlie's eyes.

Surely David must be in place by now.

"Come on, Larson. You know how this ends. Don't do anything to get yourself into more trouble. It would be a mistake, and you know it."

Don didn't have a direct line of sight to where he hoped David would be, but he knew that David had heard him and made his move when Larson's head suddenly jerked round to his right.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Larson's body followed the direction of his head, one step, two steps away from the shed, pushing Charlie in front of him.

"Thought you could..."

Abruptly, Larson's body convulsed as the report of a rifle echoed in Don's ears. The arm around Charlie's throat loosened and Charlie slumped to the ground, Larson following suit. But even from this distance Don could see the red blossoming on the side of Larson's head, and he knew that Edgerton had taken his opportunity.

He ran forward, noticing peripherally as he did so that David was a hurrying in from his left, while Megan moved in from the right. But all his attention was focused on Charlie as he skidded up to him and dropped to his knees in the dirt.

"Charlie? Charlie?!"

A groan answered him as Charlie finally deemed it safe to raise his head from the ground. "I'm fine, Don. No harm done."

"No harm, my ass!" answered Don fiercely. He could hear that Charlie's voice was hoarse after having a his throat constricted for so long, and the wince as Charlie clambered to his feet told him that Larson had been far from gentle with the gun he'd held against Charlie's spine. "You're getting checked out by one of the medics. No arguments."

Grimacing, Charlie nodded and started towards the medical vehicle, purposely avoiding looking at the body by his feet.

Don wanted to follow him, to be sure that he was alright, but he knew he couldn't. Right now he had to be Don Eppes, FBI Agent. He could be Don Eppes, big brother later.

* * *

Charlie swallowed and glanced warily to the left and right before raising his hand to knock on the motel room door. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. He supposed it had something to do with the reason he was here. After all, it wasn't every day you had to thank someone for saving your life.

Although, truth be told, that wasn't the only reason he was standing here, in front of this door. If he admitted it to himself, he was trying to hide. And perhaps this wasn't the safest place of concealment -- in fact, from one point-of-view it was probably just about the least safe place he could have chosen -- but that didn't mean it wasn't the best. It was certainly the last of several places to look. It would at least give him some time.

He swallowed again. Just knock, you idiot, he told himself. There's nothing to be worried about. But just as he had finally plucked up the courage to put knuckles to wood, the door was yanked open to reveal Ian Edgerton.

Charlie had never really been too sure about Agent Edgerton. They had worked together on Don's cases a few times now, and had developed quite a good working relationship. And yet there was something about Edgerton that always made Charlie feel off balance. Maybe it was that half-smile that the man always seemed to be wearing, implying he knew something no one else did, and was having a good laugh about it at everyone else's expense. Or maybe it was the fact that Edgerton was so deadly with a rifle. It made Charlie slightly uncomfortable to know that people like Edgerton and his peers could kill you without you even knowing where the shot had come from.

But today that talent had saved his life. Larson had had no idea he was in Edgerton's sights, and that was what had kept Charlie alive.

"Well? Are you going to stand out there all night?"

Charlie abruptly realised that he still had his hand raised to knock, and probably looked like a total idiot. "Er, no," he replied hastily, lowering his arm.

"You'd better come in then," said Edgerton, contriving to put just the right amount of emphasis on the right words to fluster Charlie all over again.

Charlie stepped into the motel room and then hovered anxiously in the middle of the floor while Edgerton closed the door and then made his way over to the mini-bar.

"Drink?"

"No, thanks," said Charlie.

"Sure? Most people would think they needed one after the day you've had."

"No drink," said Charlie firmly.

"Suit yourself." Edgerton poured himself a drink and then leant -- lounged, almost -- against the wall next to the mini-bar. "So what can I do for you?" he asked.

"Um, well...I wanted to thank you for saving my life," Charlie blurted. "I'd probably be dead if you hadn't been here."

"Oh, I don't know about that," drawled Edgerton, in a voice that implied exactly the opposite. "I'm sure your brother wouldn't have let you get killed, even if I hadn't been around."

"But he might have had to," said Charlie earnestly, trying to ignore the jolt of fear that thought sent through him. "There's no way he would have let Larson get away -- not after what the guy did. And that might have made Larson shoot me," he ended in a whisper.

"Lucky for you I was here, then, isn't it?" said Edgerton, putting his glass down and stepping away from the wall and prowling towards Charlie. "I really wouldn't have wanted to see you get killed."

"Yes...well...so, thanks, I guess," stuttered Charlie. He was getting nervous again. That was the other thing about Edgerton. Despite Charlie's reservations about the sniper, there was also something undeniably attractive about him too. He was dangerous and yet alluring -- once he had you in his sights it was very hard to get away, whether you were criminal or conquest.

And Charlie was starting to feel a little like a conquest. But attractive though Edgerton might be, Charlie didn't really want to go there. His head was already one big emotional minefield -- he didn't need to go adding a dalliance with Ian Edgerton to his problems.

But he wasn't sure what to do to put a stop to things. Edgerton was stalking him like prey -- he had that look in his eye that said he wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. Oh, Charlie was sure that if he really did say "no", and made himself clear on that point, Edgerton would back off. But the man could sense weakness, indecision. And Charlie really was having a tough time deciding what to do right now. There was too much going on his head for him to think clearly. Instinct was taking over. He didn't really want to be in this position, but there was something mesmerising about Edgerton that was making it incredibly difficult to focus right now.

Edgerton was looming over him now, his intent clear in his eyes. Charlie could feel his heart beating faster, the tension thrumming through his body. He knew he was right on the point of giving in, and he lifted his chin, looking up into Edgerton's feral gaze. Edgerton smiled, and one hand shot out to grab Charlie's arm, dragging Charlie closer. Charlie closed his eyes and waited for Edgerton to...

There was a knock at the door.

"Ignore it," Edgerton muttered as Charlie's eyes fluttered open again.

Another knock.

"Ian, are you in there? Is Charlie with you?"

Don's voice was muffled, but Charlie could still hear the tone of desperation -- and fear? -- in it, and he suddenly realised how stupid it had been to just disappear on Don after what had happened today.

"Yeah, Don, he's in here," responded Edgerton loudly as he crossed to the door and pulled it open.

Then Don was pushing past him into the room, his expression a mixture of relief and anger as he advanced on Charlie.

"What the hell are you playing at? Do you know how worried I was when I couldn't find you?"

"Sorry," mumbled Charlie, trying to ignore the faint smirk playing around Edgerton's mouth. "I didn't think. I just wanted to say thank you to Agent Edgerton."

Don relaxed slightly at that, as if he realised he might have over-reacted a tiny bit. He glanced at Edgerton. "Thanks, Ian."

Edgerton waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. Charlie's already expressed his gratitude." At his tone Don seemed to tense up again, and he quickly grabbed Charlie's arm, much as Edgerton had done earlier.

"Come on, let's go. I think we need to talk."

Charlie threw an apologetic smile at Edgerton as Don unceremoniously dragged him from the room.

* * *

"What the hell were you playing at?" Don asked again as he slammed the door to his own motel room behind them.

"I said I was sorry!" Charlie protested.

"And with Ian Edgerton, of all people!"

"I'm a grown man and I can go...what?"

"I mean, the guy's a great shot, and I can think of very few people I'd rather have watching my back, but that's precisely why it's such a bad idea, Charlie. Edgerton's a dangerous man -- you don't mess with him." Don was in full rant-mode, and Charlie had to shout to make himself heard.

"Don! What are you talking about? What exactly do you think was going on?"

Don looked at him angrily. "You and Ian Edgerton. In his room together...you know the rest."

Charlie sighed. "Oh, hell. Is that it? Nothing happened, Don. Really." It was only a half-lie -- nothing actually had happened. And secretly, Charlie was glad they'd been interrupted. He just wished it hadn't been Don doing the interrupting.

Don blinked. "Oh. Okay. Sorry, I..."

"It doesn't matter. You were only looking out for me." Charlie headed for the door, glad they'd sorted things out and he could leave.

"Wait, Charlie."

Charlie halted unwillingly and turned towards his brother. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you're okay? After what happened today?" Don crossed the room to stand in front of Charlie and looked seriously into his eyes. "You know I would never have let anything happen to you, right? Never."

"You don't know that, Don."

And this was why he had been trying to hide. Don in 'big brother' mode tended to overpower Charlie's normally rational, logical, numbers-drenched mind. His reaction to it was ridiculous, unwarranted and unfounded, and yet he couldn't seem to prevent it. It was as if his brain overlaid an extra dimension on to what was actually happening, making him see things that weren't really there.

Luckily, Charlie was aware of this horrific shortcoming within himself, even if he couldn't rid himself of it. So he had become an expert at dampening Don's over-protectiveness -- making light of problems, convincing Don that things weren't really as bad as they seemed -- to make sure that 'Big Brother Don' didn't get a chance to emerge.

Unfortunately, sometimes the 'glossing over the truth' method didn't really cut it. Like today. Don had seen it all today. The whole ugly mess. And so Charlie's only option had been to avoid Don until he calmed down -- to prevent himself from ending up in the situation he dreaded and craved at the same time. Hence the misguided plan to hide out in Ian Edgerton's room.

Because that hadn't made things any worse, had it?

"I do know that, Charlie. I do," Don was saying.

"No, you don't," Charlie repeated stubbornly. "You were lucky today. You had Agent Edgerton on your side. But what if he hadn't been there, Don? Then what would you have done? Given the choice between the one death that might have been the result of capturing Larson, and the many deaths he could have caused if he had got away, logic dictates that the death of his hostage would have been an acceptable loss."

"Screw logic," replied Don. "For one thing, no loss is acceptable. And for another, this wasn't just any hostage. It was you, Charlie. You. Do you have any idea what it was like for me, seeing you in Larson's hands? I might have been treating it like any other hostage situation at the time, but if anything had happened to you..."

Charlie stared at Don, eyes wide. Dimly, he was aware of pain in his shoulders where Don was now gripping them tightly, almost shaking Charlie in an effort to be understood.

But it was Don's face that Charlie's eyes were riveted to. He'd never seen his brother display so much emotion -- Don was one of those people who normally kept their feelings well hidden. But now he was showing Charlie every bit of anguish and fear and terror he'd gone through in the minutes when Charlie had been in Larson's clutches.

"It's okay, Don," he said softly. "I'm still here. He didn't get me. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"Oh god, Charlie..." Don suddenly crushed Charlie against him, holding him as if he never wanted to let him go.

Don's body and scent surrounded Charlie and he relaxed into Don's embrace. He knew this was dangerous territory, that he should be getting out of here as quickly as he could, but he couldn't bring himself to move. And besides, Don needed this. This was for Don, not for him.

Charlie could feel Don breathing heavily -- if he hadn't known better he would almost have said Don was sobbing. "It's okay," he said again soothingly. The irony of the situation was not lost on him -- he was the one who had almost died today, and here he was comforting his big, tough older brother.

Abruptly, Don pushed Charlie away, holding him at arm's length. There was no trace of tears on his face, but his expression was unreadable, and unaccountably, Charlie started to feel uneasy.

"What?" he asked. "Have I got something on my face? In my hair?"

Don smiled lopsidedly. "No," he said. Slowly, he drew Charlie back towards him. "Just getting some clarity on a few issues."

"What issues?" Charlie started to ask, but his words were cut off as Don chastely pressed his lips against Charlie's own.

Charlie froze. Don was kissing him. Was this really happening? Was he dreaming? Still in shock from events earlier in the day? Or was it the other way round -- was it really him that had kissed Don? The world seemed to have shifted on its axis slightly, and Charlie couldn't quite work out what to do.

But Don clearly seemed to have interpreted Charlie's inaction as something bad, because after a couple of seconds he suddenly pulled away, horror writ large across his face and apologies tumbling from his lips.

"Oh god, Charlie, I'm so sorry...I didn't mean...it was a mistake...just forget..."

"Don't do that unless you mean it," said Charlie quietly, cutting across Don's muddled words.

"What, apologise?" replied Don, looking confused. "Of course I mean it. I'm so sorry, Charlie. That was a stupid thing..."

"No," interrupted Charlie. "I meant, don't kiss me unless you mean it. If you're just trying to make yourself feel better, or me feel better, then I don't want to know. In fact, I think I should probably just go, before we both do something we'll regret." He felt like he was tearing his heart out with every word, but he had gotten too good at avoiding this precise situation to let himself fall into the trap now.

"Charlie!" Don's hand shot out and grabbed Charlie's wrist as he started to move away. "How could you think I didn't mean it? Do you think I would take such a big risk on just a shallow gesture? Of course I meant it. I don't think I've ever meant anything more in my life. Please don't go. We can work this out. Just forget it ever happened."

Charlie shook his head, partly in relief and partly in amazement. "Are you even listening to me?" he asked. "I don't want to forget it ever happened. I said, don't kiss me unless you mean it. I want you to mean it. Because I mean it too. I didn't kiss you back because I was surprised, that's all. I've fantasised about that moment more often than I should probably admit, but you caught me unawares -- I never thought it would actually happen. I wasn't ready."

He could practically see the wheels turning as Don mentally reviewed the last couple of minutes of conversation, checking and verifying what Charlie had just told him. And Charlie knew Don had reached the correct conclusion when a big, but still slightly disbelieving, grin slowly spread across Don's face.

"Really?"

"Really," Charlie confirmed. "I've been dreaming about that kiss for practically forever.

Don's smile turned a shade rueful. "But I guess it didn't really live up to the fantasy, huh?" he said.

"Not really," Charlie replied, trying not to sound disappointed. "As I said, you took me a little by surprise."

"Well, it's not really something you can ask about, is it? Hey, little bro, mind if I kiss you? That kind of thing normally earns you a punch on the nose followed by a visit from the cops."

"So you thought that just doing it without asking would be the better course of action?" asked Charlie lightly. "Because that kind of thing would normally get you a little more than just a visit from the cops."

"I wasn't really thinking at all, actually," said Don. "I was working on my instincts. It seemed like the right thing to do at that moment."

"Well, it's a good job you've got such an understanding little brother then, isn't it? Even if that little brother is too stupid to take advantage of an opportunity when it's presented to him." He frowned, only half-jokingly.

"Tell you what," said Don. "How about we wipe the slate clean? I know you said you didn't want to forget it, but we could just pretend like the first kiss never happened and do the whole thing over."

Charlie pretended to think. "That sounds like a good idea," he said slowly. "Yep, I definitely like it."

"Okay, then," replied Don, pulling Charlie back towards him.

Charlie swallowed, suddenly nervous. "No pressure, then," he said weakly.

"No pressure," agreed Don, completely seriously.

He leaned towards Charlie and their lips touched once more. This time Charlie kissed back -- tentatively at first, but then with more enthusiasm. It wasn't quite how he'd imagined it would be. No matter how much he'd fantasised about this, there had always been some element of residual weirdness colouring the experience. But in reality it didn't feel weird at all. It felt right. And good. Really good. Charlie made a soft sound of pleasure and slid a hand around the back of Don's neck, pulling him closer. And the feeling of Don's body pressed against his was beginning to make other parts of his anatomy feel good, too.

Eventually, however, the need to breathe became an issue, and Charlie drew back reluctantly, his hand dropping to join the other one where it rested in the small of Don's back. Aware of Don looking at him, he smiled slightly.

"Wow," said Don. "If I'd known you were that good a kisser, I'd have done this months ago."

Charlie ducked his head slightly, embarrassed yet pleased by the compliment. "I wish you had done it months ago," he said softly.

Don placed a finger under his chin, tilting his head back up until they could look into each other's eyes. "I wish I had too," he said fervently. Then he smiled. "So how about we make up for lost time?"

--End--