Numb3rs/Criminal Minds Fic: Washington Holiday (2/?)
Title: Washington Holiday (2/?)
Author: étienneofthewestwind
Pairing: Charlie/Ian
Word Count: 3273
Rating: PG/FRT for now
Disclaimer: Ownership--Nothing that entails a monetary claim.
Summary: A chance conversation sends Charlie to look up an old friend just when said friend could use one. In the process, he might discover more...
Part 1
Note: I've tweaked the ages of both Reid and Charlie, as they would otherwise be five years apart.
************
“Dad, it’s Charlie. There was a hotel glitch, and I’m going be staying with my friend, Spencer Reid, for a few days. However, my spare charger isn’t, so I’m going to keep my phone off for a while. If you need me, you can call his cell...
*************
“…However, he can be called into work at anytime, so don’t call unless it’s urgent. I hope things weren’t too awkward for you and Dad what with me skipping out on my own party. Anyway, love you. Bye.”
Don sighed and saved Charlie's voice mail before he closed his phone. He sat on the living room couch, where he had crashed for the night. Reaching for the landline, he found a similar message left for their father. Nothing about his tone suggested Charlie was coerced in any way. Still, Don felt uneasy. He knew nothing of this Reid. And while not surprised that Charlie could not charge his phone--Don suspected Charlie had really forgotten to pack the charger given how quickly he took off--he did not like Charlie being out of easy reach. If something happened, there was no way to know he gone had missing.
Short of his not returning before classes resumed.
Not that Don had any decent information to start a search with anyway. He scowled at the number he had written down. He had half a mind to go into the office and have it run through the system. See just who had snatched his brother across the country and what kind of trouble he could drag Chuck into.
"Good morning."
Don looked up as his father came down the stairs. "Morning." He turned his attention back to the coffee table.
"You know, glaring at the phone's not going to make Charlie call any sooner."
"He all ready did. Well, sent voicemail from his mailbox to both of us. Apparently, he can’t charge his phone and we’re to only call his friend in the case of emergency.”
“It’s just like Charlie to forget things,” Alan grumbled as he reached the foot of the stairs. “Did he at least tell us who his friend is?”
“Yeah, Spencer Reid. Spence in your message. Never heard of him.”
“Spence,” his father repeated as he sat down at the table. “Spence…” Alan Eppes stared at the wall a minute before he snapped his fingers. “His MIT roommate! I haven’t heard of him in years.”
“I thought he had a single.” Don had chosen to be unavailable to help move Charlie into the dorm, but he remembered hearing about it. Having their mother with him during his Princeton years, Charlie was excited to finally have a place of his own.
Alan snorted. ”That only lasted a few of weeks. He and another doctoral candidate moved into an apartment--”
“Doctoral candidate?” Don asked.
His father chuckled. “Alarmed your mother and I at first, too, but this Spence turned out to be Charlie’s age. We still weren’t thrilled, he was barely eighteen and rather sheltered, but he kept going on about how the dorm was filled with distracting people. He ranted about everything from the kid who was only there because of family pressure, to his Princeton rival’s presence and everything in between. Didn’t really see how living over a coffee shop would be quieter, but…” The older man shrugged. “Part of their lease with the building owner involved working in the shop, and we figured the responsibility would do him good. Besides, he didn’t inform us until well past the move.”
“Damn,” Don leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I know Charlie and I lost touch for a while, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”
Alan snorted grimly. “For a while, I honestly thought that after your mother and I went, you two would never talk again.”
“I’m glad that changed.”
“Yeah, you’re always talking about your work now.”
Don started. “You think that’s all we have?”
“It’s a bridge. You’re growing closer, but without his consulting…” His father shrugged. “After you first moved back, you two talked without real substance.”
Don frowned as he slipped his phone into his back pocket. What else did he not know about his brother? He and Chuck needed to have a serious conversation when he returned. At least he could quit worrying.
Worry less. In any event, Charlie could handle the academic world.
************
Spencer rolled his eyes in exasperation as he read the caller ID. “Hey, Hotch,” he greeted the caller. He stopped and stood on the side of one of Anacostia Park's hiking trails. Charlie stopped and waited a few feet away. “Did Haley have the baby?”
“Not yet,” his superior replied, voice flustered. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You know, after the kicks…”
“Hotch, when I said you kicked like a nine year-old, I was trying to be nice and let you think you had some kicking ability. I’m. Fine.”
“That’s good,” Hotch replied, sounding sour. Charlie turned to look at Spencer, the wind ruffling his curly hair. “So, did you get your friend safely checked into a hotel?”
“Actually,” Spencer knew he was smirking, “I asked him to stick around for a few days. We got into an interesting discussion about using heuristics to calculate escape routes. I thought it would be fun to cobble together some equations.”
“So he’s at your place now?”
“No. He came to Washington to see the sights.”
"That's good," Hotch replied awkwardly. "So, Smithsonian? The White House?"
"Yeah, we may work those in. I've got go. See you tomorrow." Spencer ended the call and put his phone back in his jacket pocket.
"Your side is bothering you," Charlie observed as Spencer turned back to the trail. "You've been rubbing it off and on all morning."
"A little," Spencer admitted reluctantly. "It's just a few bruises, nothing worth mentioning to Hotch." And the fact that he was not the hiker Charlie was. Spencer started back up the hill. "He was genuinely worried about doing damage. But the kicking's not what bugs me..."
"Shooting Dowd?" Charlie asked softly, even though they were alone on this part of the trail.
"I meant about what Hotch did. He had to convince Dowd he related, so he said some things to and about me that took me back to high school. He had to--Hell, I would have told him to, if given the chance, but..." Spencer sighed and laid his hand against a tree. He stared at the roots. "He was good at it. Even knowing he didn't mean it..." Spencer turned and leaned back against the tree. He stared up at the sky. "Mrs. Meyer always said I needed to thicken my skin. It was no excuse for ignoring the bullying, but maybe she had a point. I mean, I've picked a career where emotional toughness is needed more often than physical endurance."
"'Toughness is not immunity from pain, but what you do after you’re hurt’,” Charlie told him gravely. Then he grinned. “At least I think that’s what Larry says once you strip out the metaphors about gamma ray bursts and asteroid impacts.”
Spencer laughed. Professor Fleinhardt had a unique way of imparting wisdom. The man only joined the CalSci faculty during Spencer’s last year, but Spencer had talked with the man a couple times because of their mutual friendship with Charlie. Still, those conversations stuck in his mind. "Close enough, I´m sure. I´d feel tougher if I could let it go," Spencer admitted. "But it bugs me. I wish I knew why."
"Do you..." Charlie trailed off. "I know what it's like to forge a career among newbies years older, and you chose a harder vocation than I. Are you afraid there's some truth in whatever he said? That he finds you… lacking somehow?"
"He doesn't," Spencer replied more sharply than he had intended. "I might have felt that way, when he announced to the room at large that I had failed my gun quals, but he didn´t doubt that I could hit Dowd."
"Why not? I´m not trying to doubt you here, Spence, but I don´t know that much about your boss. How do you know what he was thinking?"
"I..." Spencer’s brain rapidly analyzed Hotch´s behavior that night. "Dowd had his weapon on full auto. Anything less than a headshot, even if it still killed him, and his finger would have twitched the trigger. If Hotch thought I could never make the shot… His best course would have been to work at talking Dowd into surrendering so ‘none of the cops could get over on him and claim they took him out´. Or something like that. But Hotch trusted me to make that shot." Spencer felt a giddy rush of pride at securing the stoic man´s trust. Aaron Hotchner fit the standard perception of G-man far more than Jason Gideon. Gideon was a great mentor, but Hotch´s confidence meant acceptance for more than his analytical abilities. Granted, said abilities were more essential to profiling than field skills, but Spencer liked being seen as capable. "Even when I didn´t. At least not until I felt his confidence and knew I couldn´t let him down."
Of course, Spencer had also felt the tall man’s relief when he did make the shot. He knew Hotch’s confidence was not absolute--the man had seen his last pre-qual target practice, after all. And headshots might preclude Dowd firing as he faded, but cadaveric spasm, while unlikely, could still occur.
Still, Hotch considered the odds of Spencer’s making the shot better than Dowd surrendering, and put every effort into pulling the plan off. Just because Spencer would have put the odds of Dowd surrendering at zero…
It doesn’t matter, Spencer told himself firmly. He had made Hotch and Gideon proud and proved his field skills to his team.
Spencer smiled as he looked back at Charlie. "Let´s finish this hike!" He pushed off the tree and started up the hill, much happier than five minutes ago. Gideon´s ringtone filled the park.
Now he just needed to prove himself capable of selecting friends that would not ruthlessly take advantage of him.
Honestly, Spencer thought as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. You´d think a bunch of people with higher-than-average intelligence would realize that ‘child prodigy´ does not mean hapless. A terse conversation followed, during which he gave Gideon as little information about Charlie as he could.
"You know, they might not be so curious if you told them something about me," Charlie observed after Spencer had ended his phone call.
"This is more fun," Spencer smirked. Serves them right for making faulty deductions...
*************
Ian made a point of arriving well before nine Monday. If he was going to be stuck with this team, he wanted to observe them first thing and get a better idea of who he was dealing with. When he walked into the bullpen area, Spencer Reid all ready sat at his desk. He appeared to be busy filling out paperwork. Sitting next to the blond genius, a man with black curls sat going over a stack of thin blue books that reminded Ian of his college days. The man absently bobbed his head to whatever music was streaming through his earbuds, while frequently sipping from a coffee mug next to him. A visitor’s pass hung around his neck.
Reid glanced up. "Agent Edgerton," he greeted. "I didn´t expect to see you today." The man next to him looked up at Reid´s words and pulled the earbuds out. "Charlie, this is Ian Edgerton. He was sent to assist our team on the, um, Dowd matter." Charlie simply nodded, but the grim glint in the man´s dark eyes told Ian that this Charlie knew all about the Des Plaines case. "Agent Edgerton, this is Charlie Eppes, my grad school roommate."
Roommate? Ian raised an eyebrow at that as Charlie stood, a few inches shorter than him. Reid had painted the man as more of an acquaintance on the jet. "I presume it´s Dr. Eppes, then," Ian drawled as he took the hand Eppes extended. "Or do you prefer Professor?" he asked, nodding at the man´s stack of blue books. The top one showing the student´s progress--or lack thereof, given the red marks--through differential equations, and explanatory paragraphs.
"Either´s fine.” The professor had a surprisingly firm grip as he smiled. "Charlie´s better."
"Ian." He found himself returning the other man´s smile. "So what brings you into town Professor Charlie?"
"Oh, just wanted to go somewhere for spring break, and with all the college kids descending upon Florida, I´d feel like I never left work if I went there." Charlie´s smile did not reach his eyes this time. Ian filed that away for future reference, curious about what the attractive man was hiding.
"So we´re second choice then?" he asked with mock hurt.
"No!" Charlie´s eyes flew wide open. "I just..." Charlie caught sight of Ian´s smirk, and laughed. "Har-har," he feigned disgruntlement. "No, you have some beautiful land around here, and it´s nice being able to catch up with Spence." A junior agent, not attached to the top BAU team, entered the room. Ian remembered teaching him at the academy when he went for his HRT/SWAT certification.
Unfortunately, Anderson remembered him too, and while he exchanged pleasantries, Charlie slipped off to grab some more coffee. After Anderson went on his way, Ian stepped behind Reid’s chair. "You realize that your teammates thought he was at least ten years older from what little you told them on the plane?”
“Really?” Reid asked as he continued writing. “You’d think they’d be familiar with the concept of child prodigies.”
Ian smiled as he watched Charlie filling his mug with regular coffee. The short man’s clothes were loose enough that Ian could not tell his exact build, but the professor had a wider frame than Reid. With the fullness of his cheeks, Ian suspected the man was at least slightly pudgy. “I’d think you’d be familiar with how rare they are.”
“True. But there are certain patterns to their choices of higher education. Besides…” his brown eyes darkened. “One of the cardinal rules about profiling is to be careful that pre-conceived notions don’t color your view of the evidence. They ignored it at their own peril.”
Ian frowned, unable to understand the disgruntlement he could hear in the young profiler´s voice. “It was just his age.”
“And you made no assumptions based on the fact that I was sixteen?" Reid glanced up at Ian as he changed folders. He opened the folder, then frowned and tossed the folder onto the inbox on the neighboring desk. He muttered something Ian could not completely catch, but it seemed to be less than flattering about Agent Morgan.
Charlie arrived back at the desk. “So what do you do for the FBI?”
“I specialize in sniper training and wilderness tracking.”
“Agent Edgerton,” Greenaway greeted as she walked up to the trio of desks. “What brings you here?” The words were polite enough, but he knew the brunette woman had resented his addition to the sniper case.
“Whoever thought I was essential to the matter in Illinois decided I should stick with you guys until I’m cleared for full field status.”
“You don’t want to be here?” Greenaway’s tone betrayed a sense of insult.
“When I work a case, I like to be useful. I’m no profiler.”
Greenaway nodded, apparently accepting his explanation. “So who’s your friend? Not a transfer?” Greenaway gestured at the visitor’s pass.
“Charles Eppes,” Charlie spoke before either Ian or Reid could answer. He reached out to shake her hand. “Mathematics professor. It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent Greenaway. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really?” Greenaway glanced at Ian as she took the hand. “That’s… nice.”
“Really.” Charlie grinned impishly.
“Well good to meet you, too. How long have you known Agent Edgerton?”
“Not long. A mutual friend introduced us recently.” The edges of Ian’s mouth twitched as he suppressed his laughter at Charlie’s response.
“What’s going on over here?” Morgan asked as he strolled over. “Edgerton,” he nodded in greeting. Then he turned to Charlie and held out his hand. “Derek Morgan.”
“Charlie--”
“PROFESSOR EPPES!” A blond-haired rainbow rushed across the bullpen. She tossed a stack of folders onto Greenaway’s desk and took Charlie’s hand. “It’s such an honor to have you here! Are you helping out on a case? I thought you did most of your consulting for the LA office these days. Well, FBI consulting anyway. There are rumors on the Cal-Sci message boards that you work with other alphabet soups, but--Oh, sorry!” The woman dropped Charlie’s hand and gestured at her chest. “Penelope Garcia. You were my Intro to Combinatorics professor when I returned to Cal-Sci, and you left quite an impression. Besides the whole novelty of a twenty year-old professor, you have a fantastic lecture style. Amazingly easy to learn from, and totally boosted the speed at which I taught myself coding theory. Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
“So what are you doing here?” Garcia asked.
Charlie smiled. “I’m just visiting Spence.” Greenaway looked sharply at Reid.
“You know Reid? I thought he graduated before--”
“Not funny guys!” Greenaway hissed.
“I thought it was,” Ian chuckled.
“What’s not funny?” Morgan asked.
“I never said anything untrue,” Charlie replied innocently. “Spence did introduce me to Agent Edgerton recently. Very recently.”
“What would be funny about that?” Garcia asked.
“I think we’re missing something, Baby Girl,” Morgan commented.
“I was talking to Charlie when Greenaway arrived. She asked how we knew each other.”
Greenaway glared at Ian. “I--”
“Guys we have a priority case,” Jareau called as she and Hotchner walked out of Hotchner’s office. Ian blinked, he had not seen them arrive. Hotchner knocked on the adjacent door. Gideon’s office, if Ian remembered correctly. Morgan and Greenaway headed off to the side.
“Sorry, Charlie,” Reid said as he stood and opened his desk drawer. “I guess the tour’ll have to wait.”
“That’s fine. I can keep myself busy in DC. We never got that replacement charger for my phone, and the Smithsonian sounded like a good idea.”
“You don’t have a charger?” Garcia asked.
“Not one that’s working. I guess the one I brought was my spare for a reason.”
“I might be able to lend you one. The tech department has all sorts of odds and ends. What kind--”
“Charlie,” Reid cut in, holding something out to the other man. “Spare key in case we have to leave town. You remember my alarm code?”
“It’s a number, Spence.”
“Right.” Reid nodded, then hurried off in the direction Morgan and Greenaway had.
Ian hurried after him, as Hotchner had neglected to tell him where the team briefed their cases. “What was that about?”
Reid looked at him puzzled. “What was what about?”
“What your friend said about your alarm code being a number?”
Reid shrugged as reached the door of a small conference room. “Charlie remembers numbers,” he said simply as he slipped inside and took a seat around a round table.
“Like an eidetic memory?” Ian asked as he followed. The rest of the team looked his way.
“Only for numbers,” Reid answered.
“Agent Edgerton will be joining us for the next couple weeks,” Hotchner said as Jareau started handing out files. “Baltimore has called us in on a string of missing persons…”
Part 3
Author: étienneofthewestwind
Pairing: Charlie/Ian
Word Count: 3273
Rating: PG/FRT for now
Disclaimer: Ownership--Nothing that entails a monetary claim.
Summary: A chance conversation sends Charlie to look up an old friend just when said friend could use one. In the process, he might discover more...
Part 1
Note: I've tweaked the ages of both Reid and Charlie, as they would otherwise be five years apart.
************
“Dad, it’s Charlie. There was a hotel glitch, and I’m going be staying with my friend, Spencer Reid, for a few days. However, my spare charger isn’t, so I’m going to keep my phone off for a while. If you need me, you can call his cell...
*************
“…However, he can be called into work at anytime, so don’t call unless it’s urgent. I hope things weren’t too awkward for you and Dad what with me skipping out on my own party. Anyway, love you. Bye.”
Don sighed and saved Charlie's voice mail before he closed his phone. He sat on the living room couch, where he had crashed for the night. Reaching for the landline, he found a similar message left for their father. Nothing about his tone suggested Charlie was coerced in any way. Still, Don felt uneasy. He knew nothing of this Reid. And while not surprised that Charlie could not charge his phone--Don suspected Charlie had really forgotten to pack the charger given how quickly he took off--he did not like Charlie being out of easy reach. If something happened, there was no way to know he gone had missing.
Short of his not returning before classes resumed.
Not that Don had any decent information to start a search with anyway. He scowled at the number he had written down. He had half a mind to go into the office and have it run through the system. See just who had snatched his brother across the country and what kind of trouble he could drag Chuck into.
"Good morning."
Don looked up as his father came down the stairs. "Morning." He turned his attention back to the coffee table.
"You know, glaring at the phone's not going to make Charlie call any sooner."
"He all ready did. Well, sent voicemail from his mailbox to both of us. Apparently, he can’t charge his phone and we’re to only call his friend in the case of emergency.”
“It’s just like Charlie to forget things,” Alan grumbled as he reached the foot of the stairs. “Did he at least tell us who his friend is?”
“Yeah, Spencer Reid. Spence in your message. Never heard of him.”
“Spence,” his father repeated as he sat down at the table. “Spence…” Alan Eppes stared at the wall a minute before he snapped his fingers. “His MIT roommate! I haven’t heard of him in years.”
“I thought he had a single.” Don had chosen to be unavailable to help move Charlie into the dorm, but he remembered hearing about it. Having their mother with him during his Princeton years, Charlie was excited to finally have a place of his own.
Alan snorted. ”That only lasted a few of weeks. He and another doctoral candidate moved into an apartment--”
“Doctoral candidate?” Don asked.
His father chuckled. “Alarmed your mother and I at first, too, but this Spence turned out to be Charlie’s age. We still weren’t thrilled, he was barely eighteen and rather sheltered, but he kept going on about how the dorm was filled with distracting people. He ranted about everything from the kid who was only there because of family pressure, to his Princeton rival’s presence and everything in between. Didn’t really see how living over a coffee shop would be quieter, but…” The older man shrugged. “Part of their lease with the building owner involved working in the shop, and we figured the responsibility would do him good. Besides, he didn’t inform us until well past the move.”
“Damn,” Don leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I know Charlie and I lost touch for a while, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”
Alan snorted grimly. “For a while, I honestly thought that after your mother and I went, you two would never talk again.”
“I’m glad that changed.”
“Yeah, you’re always talking about your work now.”
Don started. “You think that’s all we have?”
“It’s a bridge. You’re growing closer, but without his consulting…” His father shrugged. “After you first moved back, you two talked without real substance.”
Don frowned as he slipped his phone into his back pocket. What else did he not know about his brother? He and Chuck needed to have a serious conversation when he returned. At least he could quit worrying.
Worry less. In any event, Charlie could handle the academic world.
************
Spencer rolled his eyes in exasperation as he read the caller ID. “Hey, Hotch,” he greeted the caller. He stopped and stood on the side of one of Anacostia Park's hiking trails. Charlie stopped and waited a few feet away. “Did Haley have the baby?”
“Not yet,” his superior replied, voice flustered. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You know, after the kicks…”
“Hotch, when I said you kicked like a nine year-old, I was trying to be nice and let you think you had some kicking ability. I’m. Fine.”
“That’s good,” Hotch replied, sounding sour. Charlie turned to look at Spencer, the wind ruffling his curly hair. “So, did you get your friend safely checked into a hotel?”
“Actually,” Spencer knew he was smirking, “I asked him to stick around for a few days. We got into an interesting discussion about using heuristics to calculate escape routes. I thought it would be fun to cobble together some equations.”
“So he’s at your place now?”
“No. He came to Washington to see the sights.”
"That's good," Hotch replied awkwardly. "So, Smithsonian? The White House?"
"Yeah, we may work those in. I've got go. See you tomorrow." Spencer ended the call and put his phone back in his jacket pocket.
"Your side is bothering you," Charlie observed as Spencer turned back to the trail. "You've been rubbing it off and on all morning."
"A little," Spencer admitted reluctantly. "It's just a few bruises, nothing worth mentioning to Hotch." And the fact that he was not the hiker Charlie was. Spencer started back up the hill. "He was genuinely worried about doing damage. But the kicking's not what bugs me..."
"Shooting Dowd?" Charlie asked softly, even though they were alone on this part of the trail.
"I meant about what Hotch did. He had to convince Dowd he related, so he said some things to and about me that took me back to high school. He had to--Hell, I would have told him to, if given the chance, but..." Spencer sighed and laid his hand against a tree. He stared at the roots. "He was good at it. Even knowing he didn't mean it..." Spencer turned and leaned back against the tree. He stared up at the sky. "Mrs. Meyer always said I needed to thicken my skin. It was no excuse for ignoring the bullying, but maybe she had a point. I mean, I've picked a career where emotional toughness is needed more often than physical endurance."
"'Toughness is not immunity from pain, but what you do after you’re hurt’,” Charlie told him gravely. Then he grinned. “At least I think that’s what Larry says once you strip out the metaphors about gamma ray bursts and asteroid impacts.”
Spencer laughed. Professor Fleinhardt had a unique way of imparting wisdom. The man only joined the CalSci faculty during Spencer’s last year, but Spencer had talked with the man a couple times because of their mutual friendship with Charlie. Still, those conversations stuck in his mind. "Close enough, I´m sure. I´d feel tougher if I could let it go," Spencer admitted. "But it bugs me. I wish I knew why."
"Do you..." Charlie trailed off. "I know what it's like to forge a career among newbies years older, and you chose a harder vocation than I. Are you afraid there's some truth in whatever he said? That he finds you… lacking somehow?"
"He doesn't," Spencer replied more sharply than he had intended. "I might have felt that way, when he announced to the room at large that I had failed my gun quals, but he didn´t doubt that I could hit Dowd."
"Why not? I´m not trying to doubt you here, Spence, but I don´t know that much about your boss. How do you know what he was thinking?"
"I..." Spencer’s brain rapidly analyzed Hotch´s behavior that night. "Dowd had his weapon on full auto. Anything less than a headshot, even if it still killed him, and his finger would have twitched the trigger. If Hotch thought I could never make the shot… His best course would have been to work at talking Dowd into surrendering so ‘none of the cops could get over on him and claim they took him out´. Or something like that. But Hotch trusted me to make that shot." Spencer felt a giddy rush of pride at securing the stoic man´s trust. Aaron Hotchner fit the standard perception of G-man far more than Jason Gideon. Gideon was a great mentor, but Hotch´s confidence meant acceptance for more than his analytical abilities. Granted, said abilities were more essential to profiling than field skills, but Spencer liked being seen as capable. "Even when I didn´t. At least not until I felt his confidence and knew I couldn´t let him down."
Of course, Spencer had also felt the tall man’s relief when he did make the shot. He knew Hotch’s confidence was not absolute--the man had seen his last pre-qual target practice, after all. And headshots might preclude Dowd firing as he faded, but cadaveric spasm, while unlikely, could still occur.
Still, Hotch considered the odds of Spencer’s making the shot better than Dowd surrendering, and put every effort into pulling the plan off. Just because Spencer would have put the odds of Dowd surrendering at zero…
It doesn’t matter, Spencer told himself firmly. He had made Hotch and Gideon proud and proved his field skills to his team.
Spencer smiled as he looked back at Charlie. "Let´s finish this hike!" He pushed off the tree and started up the hill, much happier than five minutes ago. Gideon´s ringtone filled the park.
Now he just needed to prove himself capable of selecting friends that would not ruthlessly take advantage of him.
Honestly, Spencer thought as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. You´d think a bunch of people with higher-than-average intelligence would realize that ‘child prodigy´ does not mean hapless. A terse conversation followed, during which he gave Gideon as little information about Charlie as he could.
"You know, they might not be so curious if you told them something about me," Charlie observed after Spencer had ended his phone call.
"This is more fun," Spencer smirked. Serves them right for making faulty deductions...
*************
Ian made a point of arriving well before nine Monday. If he was going to be stuck with this team, he wanted to observe them first thing and get a better idea of who he was dealing with. When he walked into the bullpen area, Spencer Reid all ready sat at his desk. He appeared to be busy filling out paperwork. Sitting next to the blond genius, a man with black curls sat going over a stack of thin blue books that reminded Ian of his college days. The man absently bobbed his head to whatever music was streaming through his earbuds, while frequently sipping from a coffee mug next to him. A visitor’s pass hung around his neck.
Reid glanced up. "Agent Edgerton," he greeted. "I didn´t expect to see you today." The man next to him looked up at Reid´s words and pulled the earbuds out. "Charlie, this is Ian Edgerton. He was sent to assist our team on the, um, Dowd matter." Charlie simply nodded, but the grim glint in the man´s dark eyes told Ian that this Charlie knew all about the Des Plaines case. "Agent Edgerton, this is Charlie Eppes, my grad school roommate."
Roommate? Ian raised an eyebrow at that as Charlie stood, a few inches shorter than him. Reid had painted the man as more of an acquaintance on the jet. "I presume it´s Dr. Eppes, then," Ian drawled as he took the hand Eppes extended. "Or do you prefer Professor?" he asked, nodding at the man´s stack of blue books. The top one showing the student´s progress--or lack thereof, given the red marks--through differential equations, and explanatory paragraphs.
"Either´s fine.” The professor had a surprisingly firm grip as he smiled. "Charlie´s better."
"Ian." He found himself returning the other man´s smile. "So what brings you into town Professor Charlie?"
"Oh, just wanted to go somewhere for spring break, and with all the college kids descending upon Florida, I´d feel like I never left work if I went there." Charlie´s smile did not reach his eyes this time. Ian filed that away for future reference, curious about what the attractive man was hiding.
"So we´re second choice then?" he asked with mock hurt.
"No!" Charlie´s eyes flew wide open. "I just..." Charlie caught sight of Ian´s smirk, and laughed. "Har-har," he feigned disgruntlement. "No, you have some beautiful land around here, and it´s nice being able to catch up with Spence." A junior agent, not attached to the top BAU team, entered the room. Ian remembered teaching him at the academy when he went for his HRT/SWAT certification.
Unfortunately, Anderson remembered him too, and while he exchanged pleasantries, Charlie slipped off to grab some more coffee. After Anderson went on his way, Ian stepped behind Reid’s chair. "You realize that your teammates thought he was at least ten years older from what little you told them on the plane?”
“Really?” Reid asked as he continued writing. “You’d think they’d be familiar with the concept of child prodigies.”
Ian smiled as he watched Charlie filling his mug with regular coffee. The short man’s clothes were loose enough that Ian could not tell his exact build, but the professor had a wider frame than Reid. With the fullness of his cheeks, Ian suspected the man was at least slightly pudgy. “I’d think you’d be familiar with how rare they are.”
“True. But there are certain patterns to their choices of higher education. Besides…” his brown eyes darkened. “One of the cardinal rules about profiling is to be careful that pre-conceived notions don’t color your view of the evidence. They ignored it at their own peril.”
Ian frowned, unable to understand the disgruntlement he could hear in the young profiler´s voice. “It was just his age.”
“And you made no assumptions based on the fact that I was sixteen?" Reid glanced up at Ian as he changed folders. He opened the folder, then frowned and tossed the folder onto the inbox on the neighboring desk. He muttered something Ian could not completely catch, but it seemed to be less than flattering about Agent Morgan.
Charlie arrived back at the desk. “So what do you do for the FBI?”
“I specialize in sniper training and wilderness tracking.”
“Agent Edgerton,” Greenaway greeted as she walked up to the trio of desks. “What brings you here?” The words were polite enough, but he knew the brunette woman had resented his addition to the sniper case.
“Whoever thought I was essential to the matter in Illinois decided I should stick with you guys until I’m cleared for full field status.”
“You don’t want to be here?” Greenaway’s tone betrayed a sense of insult.
“When I work a case, I like to be useful. I’m no profiler.”
Greenaway nodded, apparently accepting his explanation. “So who’s your friend? Not a transfer?” Greenaway gestured at the visitor’s pass.
“Charles Eppes,” Charlie spoke before either Ian or Reid could answer. He reached out to shake her hand. “Mathematics professor. It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent Greenaway. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really?” Greenaway glanced at Ian as she took the hand. “That’s… nice.”
“Really.” Charlie grinned impishly.
“Well good to meet you, too. How long have you known Agent Edgerton?”
“Not long. A mutual friend introduced us recently.” The edges of Ian’s mouth twitched as he suppressed his laughter at Charlie’s response.
“What’s going on over here?” Morgan asked as he strolled over. “Edgerton,” he nodded in greeting. Then he turned to Charlie and held out his hand. “Derek Morgan.”
“Charlie--”
“PROFESSOR EPPES!” A blond-haired rainbow rushed across the bullpen. She tossed a stack of folders onto Greenaway’s desk and took Charlie’s hand. “It’s such an honor to have you here! Are you helping out on a case? I thought you did most of your consulting for the LA office these days. Well, FBI consulting anyway. There are rumors on the Cal-Sci message boards that you work with other alphabet soups, but--Oh, sorry!” The woman dropped Charlie’s hand and gestured at her chest. “Penelope Garcia. You were my Intro to Combinatorics professor when I returned to Cal-Sci, and you left quite an impression. Besides the whole novelty of a twenty year-old professor, you have a fantastic lecture style. Amazingly easy to learn from, and totally boosted the speed at which I taught myself coding theory. Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
“So what are you doing here?” Garcia asked.
Charlie smiled. “I’m just visiting Spence.” Greenaway looked sharply at Reid.
“You know Reid? I thought he graduated before--”
“Not funny guys!” Greenaway hissed.
“I thought it was,” Ian chuckled.
“What’s not funny?” Morgan asked.
“I never said anything untrue,” Charlie replied innocently. “Spence did introduce me to Agent Edgerton recently. Very recently.”
“What would be funny about that?” Garcia asked.
“I think we’re missing something, Baby Girl,” Morgan commented.
“I was talking to Charlie when Greenaway arrived. She asked how we knew each other.”
Greenaway glared at Ian. “I--”
“Guys we have a priority case,” Jareau called as she and Hotchner walked out of Hotchner’s office. Ian blinked, he had not seen them arrive. Hotchner knocked on the adjacent door. Gideon’s office, if Ian remembered correctly. Morgan and Greenaway headed off to the side.
“Sorry, Charlie,” Reid said as he stood and opened his desk drawer. “I guess the tour’ll have to wait.”
“That’s fine. I can keep myself busy in DC. We never got that replacement charger for my phone, and the Smithsonian sounded like a good idea.”
“You don’t have a charger?” Garcia asked.
“Not one that’s working. I guess the one I brought was my spare for a reason.”
“I might be able to lend you one. The tech department has all sorts of odds and ends. What kind--”
“Charlie,” Reid cut in, holding something out to the other man. “Spare key in case we have to leave town. You remember my alarm code?”
“It’s a number, Spence.”
“Right.” Reid nodded, then hurried off in the direction Morgan and Greenaway had.
Ian hurried after him, as Hotchner had neglected to tell him where the team briefed their cases. “What was that about?”
Reid looked at him puzzled. “What was what about?”
“What your friend said about your alarm code being a number?”
Reid shrugged as reached the door of a small conference room. “Charlie remembers numbers,” he said simply as he slipped inside and took a seat around a round table.
“Like an eidetic memory?” Ian asked as he followed. The rest of the team looked his way.
“Only for numbers,” Reid answered.
“Agent Edgerton will be joining us for the next couple weeks,” Hotchner said as Jareau started handing out files. “Baltimore has called us in on a string of missing persons…”
Part 3