Red
Title: Red
Collection: The Long and Short of It
Rating: eT
Characters/Pairings: Charlie, Don, Colby, David, Megan
Warnings: language, violence, brotherly schmoop out the wahoo, excessively hot men being hot, PWP without the pr0n (Plot What Plot?)
Genres: Drama, Gen, Friendship, Pr0nless PWP (Plot? What Plot?)
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 967
Disclaimer: See Master Post.
Notes: See Master Post.
Summary: A protest at Cal-Sci lends Charlie a new look.
"Sorry I'm late, I was leaving campus and-" He stopped when a snicker caught his ears.
Rolling his eyes skyward, he waited for it.
"Uh, Charlie?"
He could hear the amusement in his brother's voice.
"Yes, that is red spray paint in my hair."
Colby's snicker turned into a full chuckle and even David coughed over a laugh.
Megan was the most polite of the group and just smiled.
"What happened?" she asked, taking his shoulder and turning him for a better look.
Charlie sighed and let her manipulate him, answering, "We've got Dr. Frances Wellington as a guest speaker on campus this week." The red paint covered most of the back of his suit jacket and part of his pants heading down. Heading upward it went into his hair like bad Halloween costuming.
Don frowned. That name was familiar but he couldn't quite . . .
David rescued him. "Isn't she that scientist from the UK? The one that has that new idea she says will undo global warming?"
"Oh yeah-yeah," Don said, snapping his fingers. "I knew I'd heard of her somewhere. The solar scrubber . . . thing, right?"
"Reverse greenhouse processor, yes," Charlie said.
"Okay, but what does that have to do with red spray paint?" Don asked.
"Green Peace," Megan said, sounding slightly less amused.
"Looks like red paint to me," Colby said.
Megan gave him a pursed lip stare. "Green Peace is protesting her coming to LA."
Don frowned. Pranks were amusing, but this was sounding less like a prank and more like freedom of speech taken too far. "They have a problem with her wanting to fix global warming?"
"No," Charlie said. "They have a problem with her dating a well known fashion designer who prefers natural to synthetics for her clothing line. And I'm not talking about 100 percent cotton."
"Environmental whack jobs," Colby said in not quite a mutter. He seemed to be less amused too.
Privately Don agreed if this was how they showed their dislike.
"Okay, but how did you get red spray paint on you?" David asked.
"They're all over campus. They were just tagging the people who have openly supported her visit this morning when I went in, but by the time I left they'd switched to a general tag of anyone on the faculty for 'complicity with the bloodthirsty administration that supports the wholesale slaughter of defenseless animals'." He shrugged. "Or so I was informed as they painted me."
All humor was gone from the room.
"They what?" Don demanded.
"Charlie!" Megan said.
"Because that sounds like a peaceful gathering," Colby added sarcastically.
"Yeah," David said with a snort. "I'm sure that this is exactly what the founding fathers meant."
Charlie sighed. "I'm okay," he said when Don marched into his personal bubble and started checking him over. "They were enthusiastic, but not violent or anything."
"I don't care, Charlie," Don snapped. "That's assault, dammit-"
"As the LAPD officers called in to disperse them explained," Charlie said, keeping his voice calm and hoping it was contagious.
"Are you pressing charges?" Colby asked.
Charlie shook his head. "No. The dean advised us to think carefully as stirring the pot won't help anything-"
"Charlie-" four different voices started to say.
"-and," he said, cutting them all off, "I happen to agree."
That didn't satisfy Don apparently.
"Charlie, it's not 'stirring the pot' to ask the law to be enforced! This is-"
"Not that big a deal, Don," Charlie said. "I wasn't hurt. I wasn't even really embarrassed. It's red paint and it will wash off."
Don arched an eyebrow and touched the hardened streak on the jacket.
"Okay, that won't wash off, but it's just a jacket. It can be replaced. Pressing charges won't do anything but give them publicity and make their martyr complexes-and egos-swell. I, for one, don't want to vindicate them."
He raised his eyebrows and-though no one looked pleased-they all let it go.
"Fine. It's you're decision," Don said.
"Yes," Charlie agreed. "It is. Now, I have some equations I think you'll want to see-"
Colby snorted. "I'd rather skip the equations and get right to the answers if it's all the same."
Charlie, both used to the teasing and pleased that the tense atmosphere was fading, grinned and said, "I'm sure you would. But I'm a teacher and therefore obligated to inform you that shortcuts don't get you anywhere in life worth going."
David and Megan grinned and even Don's lips twitched slightly behind his fingers playing over his bottom lip.
Colby made a face, nose scrunching. "You sound just like my ninth grade English teacher."
Charlie glared at that. "Bite your tongue. I teach math, where there is logic and order. Not English where they make the rules up as they go."
That got a laugh from all of them as Charlie plugged in his laptop and the screen appeared on the wall. "Okay, so you see this trend here?" he asked, waving at the sharp incline on the graph.
"That's our money trail?" Don asked.
"No, but it led me to the money trail."
Don nodded and let Charlie explain his numbers without interruption until he caught the change in his brother's voice that indicated this was the important bit.
"You see?"
Don's lips curved. "Yeah. Thanks, Charlie," he added, ruffling his brother's hair and forcibly swallowing down the urge to go find someone and punch them when his hand got caught on the hard red streak.
He forced his voice to remain light when he said, "Okay, boy wonder, now go wash your hair. Tell Dad I'll be home for dinner, okay?"
Charlie nodded as the team filed out to get ready to leave, well prepared with the knowledge he'd provided.