R-E-S-P-E-C-T - Part One
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
By Jelsemium
Fic to Order for jlm110108 (Remember this, Jo? I'd almost forgotten it.)
Num3rs/Criminal Minds
Original Post Date: June 3, 2007
Ian Edgerton didn't much care for material goods. It was just as well, given his semi-nomadic lifestyle and the undersized apartment he called home base.
However, when he did indulge himself in luxuries, he dug deep into his wallet. Consider the black weapon case that he was carrying under his arm. It was specially made of the kind of leather used by saddle makers and it would protect its contents from anything short of being run over by the tank.
(And if things ever got that dire, smart money would not be on the tank.)
The sniper instructor/tracker scanned the room, looking for a likely target. His hunt was cut short when one of his favorites hailed him with a raised arm.
"Edgerton! Over here!" a laughing blonde woman said.
Edgerton grinned and made his way through the room that should have been smoke filled, but thanks to new regulations were not. A pity, he thought. At least the music still blared. Right now, Aretha Franklin was singing about respect.
He was rather stingy in giving out respect, himself. He stopped in front of four people who had actually earned some from him and grinned.
"Lake," he said amiably. "Cooper, Garcia, Greenaway."
"I see you came to play, Edgerton" Red haired Agent Billy Cooper said, indicating Edgerton's case.
Edgerton smile turned wolfish. "So I did," he said. He unzipped the case and pulled out the butt of his pool cue.
"Beauty," Terry Lake said appreciatively. The honey blonde who had waved him over wrapped her hand around her own pool cue.
"It's a Predator… metallic-black on 10 piece maple, Irish linen wrappings," Edgerton looked at the pool cue with the sort of affection he usually reserved for his rifles.
"With a Sniper tip?" Elle Greenaway asked. The dark haired profiler raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," Edgerton smirked.
The last woman at the table, a plump blonde woman, gestured to a chair. "Join us for a beer?" Penelope Garcia asked.
"Don't mind if I do," Edgerton replied. "As long as I get a game out of this." He wasn't as familiar with the other agents as he was with the Lake, but he could tell, by the fact that they had brought their own cues, everyone was a serious player.
"You're buying the next round," Greenaway informed him.
Edgerton smiled tightly. "I brought my gambling wad, not my charity wad," he said. He sniffed. "Not that playing against you lot is actually gambling," he added.
This generated some amiable jeers.
"You haven't won the game yet!" Coop said.
"It's only a matter of time," Edgerton said with supreme confidence. "Unless one of you is a professional pool shark in disguise?"
"Doesn't take a shark to beat you," Terry informed him.
Edgerton allowed his amusement to show. "Anybody who can play well enough to beat me has got to be professional level," he said.
Terry grinned. "Oh, really?" she said with mock sweetness. "I have a wager for you, Ian."
Edgerton eyed her suspiciously. Sucker bets got their name from relieving suckers of their money. He could sense one coming up here, but was too curious to pass. "What did you have in mind?"
Terry leaned back in her seat and steepled her fingers together. "I bet that I can name someone who is not a professional pool player, but who could beat you."
Edgerton looked around the room. "Let me guess, this person happens to be here tonight?"
Terry shook her head.
Edgerton tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "So how do we settle this bet?" he asked.
"Simple. If you agree with me that he could probably beat you, you buy the next round. If you don't agree, then I buy." Terry's smile grew broader.
Edgerton knew he was being played, but curiosity was bred in his bones. "Okay, Lake, you are on."
"Charlie Eppes."
Garcia laughed. "I've heard of him."
Edgerton waved the waitress over, much to the amusement of the other Feds.
"Wow, you're not the only one, Penelope. So, who is this Charlie Eppes?" Greenaway prodded. "I mean, aside from being a pool shark extraordinaire?"
"He's a professor of applied mathematics at CalSci," Terry said, accepting her Black Velvet from the waitress. To Greenaway and Garcia, she added, "Professor Eppes has helped solved many cases with his math."
Coop laughed. "You've got to be kidding," he said. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that Don's egghead brother can actually beat Edgerton!"
Edgerton took a drink of his Guinness and shook his head. "I wouldn't have bought this round if I didn't believe he could," he said. "I don't understand exactly how solving math problems helps solves crimes. However, even I can see how geometry and pool go together."
Greenaway shook her head. "You're kidding," she said. "How can math help solve crimes?"
Garcia poked her. "People say the same thing about profiling, you know."
Greenaway nudged her. "That's different, profiling is about people."
"Math is about patterns," Garcia said.
Terry nodded. "That's what Charlie says," she said. She took a sip of her drink. "Charlie's the one who came up with the way of calculating hot zones," she explained. "That's a math algorithm that's being used by a lot of law enforcement agencies now to locate the unsub's base of operations."
"I didn't believe at first time I worked with the Brothers Eppes," Edgerton said. "But during he LA Sniper case, he managed to distinguish between the attacks by the original sniper from the copy cats. And when Buck Winters and Crystal Hoyt went on their killing spree, he not only figured out where they were going, he found a crime scene that I had missed."
"Really?" Greenaway said. "Maybe I should have taken more math classes." She stared into her glass thoughtfully.
Coop snorted. "Are you sure they weren't flukes?"
Terry raised an eyebrow at him. "Once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence. Three times is a pattern."
"Edge only mentioned two cases," Coop snorted before gulping down the dregs of his Budweiser.
"The McDowd case makes three," Terry pointed out.
"Well, yeah, he's good at finding patterns," Coop said. "And I admit that did help us determine what McDowd was up to."
Terry took another swallow. "That's exactly the point," she said. "Charlie keeps saying that math isn't about numbers, it's about logic and patterns… finding the logic in the patterns."
Greenaway shook her head. "An unsub doesn't always act logically."
"But they always have habits, you guys in the BAU should know that," Edgerton said. "Nobody acts completely at random."
Billy shook his head. "If you say so," he said.
"It's not just us saying so," Edgerton said. He pulled out his pool cue and began assembling it. "The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. Charlie's helped stop dozens of killers and saved god knows how many people. You gotta respect a man who can get results like that."
By Jelsemium
Fic to Order for jlm110108 (Remember this, Jo? I'd almost forgotten it.)
Num3rs/Criminal Minds
Original Post Date: June 3, 2007
Ian Edgerton didn't much care for material goods. It was just as well, given his semi-nomadic lifestyle and the undersized apartment he called home base.
However, when he did indulge himself in luxuries, he dug deep into his wallet. Consider the black weapon case that he was carrying under his arm. It was specially made of the kind of leather used by saddle makers and it would protect its contents from anything short of being run over by the tank.
(And if things ever got that dire, smart money would not be on the tank.)
The sniper instructor/tracker scanned the room, looking for a likely target. His hunt was cut short when one of his favorites hailed him with a raised arm.
"Edgerton! Over here!" a laughing blonde woman said.
Edgerton grinned and made his way through the room that should have been smoke filled, but thanks to new regulations were not. A pity, he thought. At least the music still blared. Right now, Aretha Franklin was singing about respect.
He was rather stingy in giving out respect, himself. He stopped in front of four people who had actually earned some from him and grinned.
"Lake," he said amiably. "Cooper, Garcia, Greenaway."
"I see you came to play, Edgerton" Red haired Agent Billy Cooper said, indicating Edgerton's case.
Edgerton smile turned wolfish. "So I did," he said. He unzipped the case and pulled out the butt of his pool cue.
"Beauty," Terry Lake said appreciatively. The honey blonde who had waved him over wrapped her hand around her own pool cue.
"It's a Predator… metallic-black on 10 piece maple, Irish linen wrappings," Edgerton looked at the pool cue with the sort of affection he usually reserved for his rifles.
"With a Sniper tip?" Elle Greenaway asked. The dark haired profiler raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," Edgerton smirked.
The last woman at the table, a plump blonde woman, gestured to a chair. "Join us for a beer?" Penelope Garcia asked.
"Don't mind if I do," Edgerton replied. "As long as I get a game out of this." He wasn't as familiar with the other agents as he was with the Lake, but he could tell, by the fact that they had brought their own cues, everyone was a serious player.
"You're buying the next round," Greenaway informed him.
Edgerton smiled tightly. "I brought my gambling wad, not my charity wad," he said. He sniffed. "Not that playing against you lot is actually gambling," he added.
This generated some amiable jeers.
"You haven't won the game yet!" Coop said.
"It's only a matter of time," Edgerton said with supreme confidence. "Unless one of you is a professional pool shark in disguise?"
"Doesn't take a shark to beat you," Terry informed him.
Edgerton allowed his amusement to show. "Anybody who can play well enough to beat me has got to be professional level," he said.
Terry grinned. "Oh, really?" she said with mock sweetness. "I have a wager for you, Ian."
Edgerton eyed her suspiciously. Sucker bets got their name from relieving suckers of their money. He could sense one coming up here, but was too curious to pass. "What did you have in mind?"
Terry leaned back in her seat and steepled her fingers together. "I bet that I can name someone who is not a professional pool player, but who could beat you."
Edgerton looked around the room. "Let me guess, this person happens to be here tonight?"
Terry shook her head.
Edgerton tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "So how do we settle this bet?" he asked.
"Simple. If you agree with me that he could probably beat you, you buy the next round. If you don't agree, then I buy." Terry's smile grew broader.
Edgerton knew he was being played, but curiosity was bred in his bones. "Okay, Lake, you are on."
"Charlie Eppes."
Garcia laughed. "I've heard of him."
Edgerton waved the waitress over, much to the amusement of the other Feds.
"Wow, you're not the only one, Penelope. So, who is this Charlie Eppes?" Greenaway prodded. "I mean, aside from being a pool shark extraordinaire?"
"He's a professor of applied mathematics at CalSci," Terry said, accepting her Black Velvet from the waitress. To Greenaway and Garcia, she added, "Professor Eppes has helped solved many cases with his math."
Coop laughed. "You've got to be kidding," he said. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that Don's egghead brother can actually beat Edgerton!"
Edgerton took a drink of his Guinness and shook his head. "I wouldn't have bought this round if I didn't believe he could," he said. "I don't understand exactly how solving math problems helps solves crimes. However, even I can see how geometry and pool go together."
Greenaway shook her head. "You're kidding," she said. "How can math help solve crimes?"
Garcia poked her. "People say the same thing about profiling, you know."
Greenaway nudged her. "That's different, profiling is about people."
"Math is about patterns," Garcia said.
Terry nodded. "That's what Charlie says," she said. She took a sip of her drink. "Charlie's the one who came up with the way of calculating hot zones," she explained. "That's a math algorithm that's being used by a lot of law enforcement agencies now to locate the unsub's base of operations."
"I didn't believe at first time I worked with the Brothers Eppes," Edgerton said. "But during he LA Sniper case, he managed to distinguish between the attacks by the original sniper from the copy cats. And when Buck Winters and Crystal Hoyt went on their killing spree, he not only figured out where they were going, he found a crime scene that I had missed."
"Really?" Greenaway said. "Maybe I should have taken more math classes." She stared into her glass thoughtfully.
Coop snorted. "Are you sure they weren't flukes?"
Terry raised an eyebrow at him. "Once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence. Three times is a pattern."
"Edge only mentioned two cases," Coop snorted before gulping down the dregs of his Budweiser.
"The McDowd case makes three," Terry pointed out.
"Well, yeah, he's good at finding patterns," Coop said. "And I admit that did help us determine what McDowd was up to."
Terry took another swallow. "That's exactly the point," she said. "Charlie keeps saying that math isn't about numbers, it's about logic and patterns… finding the logic in the patterns."
Greenaway shook her head. "An unsub doesn't always act logically."
"But they always have habits, you guys in the BAU should know that," Edgerton said. "Nobody acts completely at random."
Billy shook his head. "If you say so," he said.
"It's not just us saying so," Edgerton said. He pulled out his pool cue and began assembling it. "The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. Charlie's helped stop dozens of killers and saved god knows how many people. You gotta respect a man who can get results like that."