Numb3rs fic: "Dutiful"
Title: Dutiful.
‘verse: Arranged
Author: Keenir.
Beta: Jelsemium. Thank you immensely, for everything.
Category: AU
Summary: Don's going to be getting married. A bit last-minute, we know, but he's not complaining.
Word Count: 1,296
Characters: Don Eppes, Val Eng, Megan Reeves, Alan Eppes.
POV: Don Eppes.
Warnings:
Spoilers: Soft Targets,
Rating:
Disclaimer: All canon characters are property of Heuton and Falacci. All original characters are mine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know, I guess the railing under my forearms is a comforting weight or something. What I know is that this is a good place to collect my thoughts, look over everything that’s happened. The subway attack doesn’t take as long to sort out as how I feel about the other news.
I’m going to marry Val.
I’ve always loved her, so that’s not an issue, never would’ve been.
It’s just, well, the suddenness of it all. I found out today that in less than a week’s time, I’m going to marry someone I haven’t seen since High School graduation. I loved her then…and now Dad says we’re going to get married. At least it’s for a good reason.
There hasn’t been an arranged marriage in the Eppes family since my great-grandmother’s wedding. So it’s not like there’s anyone I can ask. That and even if there was, they’re probably tell me that arranged marriages are not something you do off the cuff, that they take years of advance planning.
And I’ve got til Saturday…when I say I Do.
No pressure.
“Don?” Megan asked.
“Yeah?” looking over at her; I guess she’s stopping here on her way in. That or she came outside to ask me something.
“If this is a bad time -”
“Homeland Security’s going through with the exercises, if that’s what you mean.” Everyone on my team’s got a private life; and with this sort of case, I don’t want to burden them with what’s going on in mine as well.
“So they wouldn’t listen?”
I nod. “They had some math, too.”
~~~~~Part 2:
“I mean you’re telling me he can steal a Navy sub with just seven guys?” I ask.
“Think how easy it would be to attack a wide-open city,” Megan says.
I don’t want to think about that. I want Nash in custody and answering questions. That’s what I want.
Yeah, that’s the thing, though, isn’t it? When I get right down to it, this isn’t just a case of what do I want? None of it is. It's more of a put up or shut up!
Put up - get Nash found - or shut up - hand the case back over to Homeland Security, ‘cause they’re doing a bang-up job of it. But it’s more than that. It’s back to my situation. I mean, do I want to be a playboy all my life, nothing but loving and leaving? Hell no!
Or do I - have I - been seeing girls, dating them, in the hopes of, one day, finding the right one? Someone I wouldn’t mind settling down with. Yeah that sounds right, sounds like me.
And I’ve had feelings for Val before, so it won’t entirely be starting from scratch.
It’ll work, and if it doesn’t…well, no way to find out until we tie the knot.
But it’ll work.
~~~~~Part 3:
Looking at my reflection, I kinda feel like I shouldn’t be going out tonight. We know now it wasn’t Nash, but that still leaves the guy responsible out there.
Then again, there’s always a case. And I have to have dinner eventually. Though I’m still not sure why I’ve kept this suit as long as I have.
There’s a knock on the door, to which I say, “I’m okay.”
Val sticks her head in, then steps inside. “Not bad,” looking me over. And you’re just as fine, I think, looking her over in kind. “Ready for dinner?” stepping over to help me with my tie.
“As I’ll ever be.” Considering the last time I saw my future mother-in-law was at a PTA meeting, that’s pretty good, I think. “Hey, what happened to the whole ‘no seeing the bride before the wedding’?”
She smiles at me. “For one, I’m not in my wedding dress. And for two, that’s for a traditional wedding.”
“Huh.”
In response, Val raises one eyebrow.
“So where’d you and dad go? The house was empty when I came by.”
“Alan took me up to the cemetery. I put a pebble on your mother’s grave after he talked to her, and I said…a few words to her myself.”
A pebble. An innocuous reminder that the Engs’re slightly more observant than we are. “Thanks,” I say.
“For what?”
“What you did.”
“You don’t know what I said,” she teases me with.
“Oh, I can guess,” able to play along.
“Oh, you can, can you?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Huh.”
“So, ‘Alan’?” I ask; call it habit, call it ingrained, but light teasing’s hard to stop doing.
“He won’t let me call him ‘Dad,’” Val tells me.
“Yeah, you might have to wait til after the wedding for that.”
“You’re still okay?” she asks me, concern in her voice, her face, all over.
“I’m not backing out.” Of our wedding or this case.
I can see she’s relieved. Makes sense. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this, Don.”
I shrug. “You’d do the same for me,” I say.
“Of course,” Val agrees completely. “And we’ll take it one day at a time,” she says after a bit, like she’s reading my mind.
I nod. “See where this takes us. No pressure.”
“None,” she agrees. “Bashert or not.”
“Well I’ll try to be a good basherter,” I assure her.
She tilts her head just a little, and, smiling, says, “And I’ll be the best basherte I can be.”
Dad picks that moment to knock on the door, and I realize it hadn’t been fully closed this entire time. “Much as I hate to interrupt a conversation that would have your aunt running away and possibly screaming,” Dad says, “it’s time to eat.” And I know the reservations weren’t easy to get, even with all Chuck’s influence.
Bashert. Means preordained, destined. Maybe not us. Or maybe it is us. Maybe we just needed a nudge in the right direction.
“We’ll be right there,” Val says.
“Okay,” Dad says, shutting the door as he heads back downstairs.
“And before you ask,” Val tells me, “this isn’t just about duty for me.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I say.
“I know.”
“Now I am. So, not just you being the good daughter you always were?”
“Don,” Val says in a mock-hurt tone. Seriously, she says, “Mom mentioned you, and I liked the idea.”
I like the idea of us too.
“If Mom had suggested someone I didn’t like, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”
“That’s good to know.”
Her eyes’re saying thank you.
“Just out of curiosity…”
“Sure,” Val says, game for it.
“What if I’d said no? Charlie?”
“I wouldn’t have asked. My mother might’ve made inquiries, though.”
“So who would you’ve asked?” I ask, part of me wanting to know, and part of me not sure I’d like the answer.
“Well, probably the first guy I ever kissed.”
“Oh yeah?”
Val nods. “We were in kindergarden, and the face in question was covered with cupcake icing.”
“Cupcake on the cheek, huh?”
“Mm-hm,” she hums.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
I can almost see the playful ‘I just bet you will’ in her eyes. And I nearly say, Please do.
“Now we’d better go,” Val says, “or they’ll go to the restaurant without us.”
I follow her to the door and, right after she opens it, Val turns to me and rests the tip of her index finger on my chest. “Just one thing,” she tells me.
“Name it,” I say.
“If during the reception, I hear you tell Charlie ‘I won,’ rest assured I’ll dunk your head in the punch bowl.”
I nod, hearing both the request - don’t bring up the rivalry - and the joking. “Your wish is my command.”
Val grins and leans against me, saying, “I could get used to that.”
And I’ve got no problem with this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End.
‘verse: Arranged
Author: Keenir.
Beta: Jelsemium. Thank you immensely, for everything.
Category: AU
Summary: Don's going to be getting married. A bit last-minute, we know, but he's not complaining.
Word Count: 1,296
Characters: Don Eppes, Val Eng, Megan Reeves, Alan Eppes.
POV: Don Eppes.
Warnings:
Spoilers: Soft Targets,
Rating:
Disclaimer: All canon characters are property of Heuton and Falacci. All original characters are mine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know, I guess the railing under my forearms is a comforting weight or something. What I know is that this is a good place to collect my thoughts, look over everything that’s happened. The subway attack doesn’t take as long to sort out as how I feel about the other news.
I’m going to marry Val.
I’ve always loved her, so that’s not an issue, never would’ve been.
It’s just, well, the suddenness of it all. I found out today that in less than a week’s time, I’m going to marry someone I haven’t seen since High School graduation. I loved her then…and now Dad says we’re going to get married. At least it’s for a good reason.
There hasn’t been an arranged marriage in the Eppes family since my great-grandmother’s wedding. So it’s not like there’s anyone I can ask. That and even if there was, they’re probably tell me that arranged marriages are not something you do off the cuff, that they take years of advance planning.
And I’ve got til Saturday…when I say I Do.
No pressure.
“Don?” Megan asked.
“Yeah?” looking over at her; I guess she’s stopping here on her way in. That or she came outside to ask me something.
“If this is a bad time -”
“Homeland Security’s going through with the exercises, if that’s what you mean.” Everyone on my team’s got a private life; and with this sort of case, I don’t want to burden them with what’s going on in mine as well.
“So they wouldn’t listen?”
I nod. “They had some math, too.”
~~~~~Part 2:
“I mean you’re telling me he can steal a Navy sub with just seven guys?” I ask.
“Think how easy it would be to attack a wide-open city,” Megan says.
I don’t want to think about that. I want Nash in custody and answering questions. That’s what I want.
Yeah, that’s the thing, though, isn’t it? When I get right down to it, this isn’t just a case of what do I want? None of it is. It's more of a put up or shut up!
Put up - get Nash found - or shut up - hand the case back over to Homeland Security, ‘cause they’re doing a bang-up job of it. But it’s more than that. It’s back to my situation. I mean, do I want to be a playboy all my life, nothing but loving and leaving? Hell no!
Or do I - have I - been seeing girls, dating them, in the hopes of, one day, finding the right one? Someone I wouldn’t mind settling down with. Yeah that sounds right, sounds like me.
And I’ve had feelings for Val before, so it won’t entirely be starting from scratch.
It’ll work, and if it doesn’t…well, no way to find out until we tie the knot.
But it’ll work.
~~~~~Part 3:
Looking at my reflection, I kinda feel like I shouldn’t be going out tonight. We know now it wasn’t Nash, but that still leaves the guy responsible out there.
Then again, there’s always a case. And I have to have dinner eventually. Though I’m still not sure why I’ve kept this suit as long as I have.
There’s a knock on the door, to which I say, “I’m okay.”
Val sticks her head in, then steps inside. “Not bad,” looking me over. And you’re just as fine, I think, looking her over in kind. “Ready for dinner?” stepping over to help me with my tie.
“As I’ll ever be.” Considering the last time I saw my future mother-in-law was at a PTA meeting, that’s pretty good, I think. “Hey, what happened to the whole ‘no seeing the bride before the wedding’?”
She smiles at me. “For one, I’m not in my wedding dress. And for two, that’s for a traditional wedding.”
“Huh.”
In response, Val raises one eyebrow.
“So where’d you and dad go? The house was empty when I came by.”
“Alan took me up to the cemetery. I put a pebble on your mother’s grave after he talked to her, and I said…a few words to her myself.”
A pebble. An innocuous reminder that the Engs’re slightly more observant than we are. “Thanks,” I say.
“For what?”
“What you did.”
“You don’t know what I said,” she teases me with.
“Oh, I can guess,” able to play along.
“Oh, you can, can you?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Huh.”
“So, ‘Alan’?” I ask; call it habit, call it ingrained, but light teasing’s hard to stop doing.
“He won’t let me call him ‘Dad,’” Val tells me.
“Yeah, you might have to wait til after the wedding for that.”
“You’re still okay?” she asks me, concern in her voice, her face, all over.
“I’m not backing out.” Of our wedding or this case.
I can see she’s relieved. Makes sense. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this, Don.”
I shrug. “You’d do the same for me,” I say.
“Of course,” Val agrees completely. “And we’ll take it one day at a time,” she says after a bit, like she’s reading my mind.
I nod. “See where this takes us. No pressure.”
“None,” she agrees. “Bashert or not.”
“Well I’ll try to be a good basherter,” I assure her.
She tilts her head just a little, and, smiling, says, “And I’ll be the best basherte I can be.”
Dad picks that moment to knock on the door, and I realize it hadn’t been fully closed this entire time. “Much as I hate to interrupt a conversation that would have your aunt running away and possibly screaming,” Dad says, “it’s time to eat.” And I know the reservations weren’t easy to get, even with all Chuck’s influence.
Bashert. Means preordained, destined. Maybe not us. Or maybe it is us. Maybe we just needed a nudge in the right direction.
“We’ll be right there,” Val says.
“Okay,” Dad says, shutting the door as he heads back downstairs.
“And before you ask,” Val tells me, “this isn’t just about duty for me.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I say.
“I know.”
“Now I am. So, not just you being the good daughter you always were?”
“Don,” Val says in a mock-hurt tone. Seriously, she says, “Mom mentioned you, and I liked the idea.”
I like the idea of us too.
“If Mom had suggested someone I didn’t like, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”
“That’s good to know.”
Her eyes’re saying thank you.
“Just out of curiosity…”
“Sure,” Val says, game for it.
“What if I’d said no? Charlie?”
“I wouldn’t have asked. My mother might’ve made inquiries, though.”
“So who would you’ve asked?” I ask, part of me wanting to know, and part of me not sure I’d like the answer.
“Well, probably the first guy I ever kissed.”
“Oh yeah?”
Val nods. “We were in kindergarden, and the face in question was covered with cupcake icing.”
“Cupcake on the cheek, huh?”
“Mm-hm,” she hums.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
I can almost see the playful ‘I just bet you will’ in her eyes. And I nearly say, Please do.
“Now we’d better go,” Val says, “or they’ll go to the restaurant without us.”
I follow her to the door and, right after she opens it, Val turns to me and rests the tip of her index finger on my chest. “Just one thing,” she tells me.
“Name it,” I say.
“If during the reception, I hear you tell Charlie ‘I won,’ rest assured I’ll dunk your head in the punch bowl.”
I nod, hearing both the request - don’t bring up the rivalry - and the joking. “Your wish is my command.”
Val grins and leans against me, saying, “I could get used to that.”
And I’ve got no problem with this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End.