Numb3rs Fic: You Can't Always Get What You Want
Posted to numb3rs_slash
Title: You Can't Always Get What You Want
Pairing/Characters: Don/Ian, Ian/Colby, Charlie/Ian
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, Judgment Call, Toxin, Spree, Two Daughters, Arrow of Time
Summary: Ian may be a sniper god but relationships are elusive for a true loner
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
Don may well be the strongest man Ian's ever known outside of the military. He stared down Buck in that temple without a gun in his hand. Ian wasn't even there, but once he heard he wasn't sure if he wanted to hug Don out of gratitude that he was still alive or smack him for being such an idiot.
That was the first time that Ian ever truly considered himself a coward. Being a sniper in the military had been plenty dangerous, but as part of the FBI most of his time was spent in cozy aeries where there was little chance anyone would fire back on him. He began to feel like his job was the easy one; hide and shoot someone who had no idea you were there.
But Don… First through the door on a raid, taking the shot so no one else would have to carry a death on their conscience, going up against everyone from racketeers to gangbangers, unafraid for them to know his face and his name.
In those empty motel rooms on the road after sleep failed to come, Ian would imagine what it would be like with Don. Would he be strong enough to banish the demons that stole Ian's peace of mind and robbed him of his rest? Ian couldn't decide if they'd spend their time with Don acting as therapist, sharing his calm wisdom with his arms securely around Ian, or if they'd just exorcise his demons with rough almost violent sex until they were spent.
Those nights would always end in insomnia and despair.
He wanted Don, but he couldn't have him.
+
Colby had been in the military; he understood… to a point.
Civilians never understood the inherent trauma of a war zone. There was no respite, no peace, not even during a cease fire. Every moment was pregnant with possibility: an IED could go off, a shot could ring out from points unknown, ragtag civilians with guns could burst from any doorway ready to kill - certain their god was on their side.
Colby had also been persona non grata during the Janus List debacle. If anyone else understood how it felt to walk into a room where no one met their eyes, it would be Colby. He'd been there, but he'd also been vindicated. Nothing can change the fact that Ian's reputation is based on killing people. Never mind that people higher up the food chain had decided that those people were evil and needed killing. Never mind how many people below him were walking around and living their lives because he'd removed the threat to their existence.
So maybe Colby might join him for a few beers, commiserate about how they'd both been treated… Only it would stop there. Colby couldn't relate to Ian's body count. He'd been a soldier, but it's easy to assume firing into a group that you didn't hit anyone. 'Laying down suppressive fire' is a mental euphemism where you convince yourself you were just scaring the enemy into not shooting back. But snipers saw all through their scopes. Kills were planned, present and purposeful. There was no denying it, no sharing the blame.
So while Ian kept wanting to invite Colby for drinks after cases in L.A., to invite him back to his hotel to talk, to drag him into his bed to help him forget… Some part of him knew that would be selfish. For the younger man to truly share his pain Colby would have to be as dirty as Ian felt inside. Tainted as he was, Ian could never do that to someone with enough innocence left to look at him in hero worship.
He wanted Colby, but he couldn't have him.
+
"Come on, man. It's just a beer or two. No big deal."
Ian stares at Charlie like he's even more foreign than a soft academic who sticks his floppy mop of a head into FBI business.
Blinking, he seems to find his feet following the crowd as they head out to some local cop bar. Ian never goes to these things. They remind him of what he doesn't get to do on the job: bond with anyone.
Still, the younger Eppes brother is insistent that this time Ian comes with, and so he goes.
It's pretty loud and boisterous, but the pitchers of beer keep appearing and people seem genuinely pleased that Ian's joined them. He attributes the warmth he feels inside to the alcohol, but there's something else…
Charlie plops his tipsy self next to Ian and proceeds to engage him so deeply in conversation that Ian's shocked when last call rolls around and almost everyone else has gone.
They share a cab, but Charlie gets out when they arrive at Ian's hotel, apparently unable to stop himself in the middle of the story he's telling. It's a good thing they go to Ian's room since the story takes another forty minutes to finish.
It's worth it though. At the end Ian has a sensation that is rare to him. The story? He could relate to it. Listening to the tale, Ian feels like someone understood - really understood.
"Did you…" Ian cocks his head at Charlie, feeling weirdly uncertain all of a sudden. "Did you make that story up? For me?"
Charlie gets up out of the chair he's been liquidly splayed over since his arrival and joins Ian, sitting on the bed.
"Does it matter?" Charlie matches his gaze without flinching, no mean feat for this little man in Ian's estimation. Snipers are scary people, except, apparently to math geniuses. "More importantly, did it help?"
"Yes." The answer almost surprises Ian, but somewhere in the spell his mind's been under this evening, he's known it's true. "Yes…" Ian leans in as Charlie's long lashes flutter and close in preparation for the kiss Charlie clearly expects next. Charlie had to have known already that this moment was inevitable even if Ian had been distracted by all the men he wanted but couldn't have.
He'd been too focused on what he thought he wanted, but it wasn't what he needed.
He needs this, needs Charlie, even if he never saw it coming.
=
Title: You Can't Always Get What You Want
Pairing/Characters: Don/Ian, Ian/Colby, Charlie/Ian
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, Judgment Call, Toxin, Spree, Two Daughters, Arrow of Time
Summary: Ian may be a sniper god but relationships are elusive for a true loner
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
Don may well be the strongest man Ian's ever known outside of the military. He stared down Buck in that temple without a gun in his hand. Ian wasn't even there, but once he heard he wasn't sure if he wanted to hug Don out of gratitude that he was still alive or smack him for being such an idiot.
That was the first time that Ian ever truly considered himself a coward. Being a sniper in the military had been plenty dangerous, but as part of the FBI most of his time was spent in cozy aeries where there was little chance anyone would fire back on him. He began to feel like his job was the easy one; hide and shoot someone who had no idea you were there.
But Don… First through the door on a raid, taking the shot so no one else would have to carry a death on their conscience, going up against everyone from racketeers to gangbangers, unafraid for them to know his face and his name.
In those empty motel rooms on the road after sleep failed to come, Ian would imagine what it would be like with Don. Would he be strong enough to banish the demons that stole Ian's peace of mind and robbed him of his rest? Ian couldn't decide if they'd spend their time with Don acting as therapist, sharing his calm wisdom with his arms securely around Ian, or if they'd just exorcise his demons with rough almost violent sex until they were spent.
Those nights would always end in insomnia and despair.
He wanted Don, but he couldn't have him.
+
Colby had been in the military; he understood… to a point.
Civilians never understood the inherent trauma of a war zone. There was no respite, no peace, not even during a cease fire. Every moment was pregnant with possibility: an IED could go off, a shot could ring out from points unknown, ragtag civilians with guns could burst from any doorway ready to kill - certain their god was on their side.
Colby had also been persona non grata during the Janus List debacle. If anyone else understood how it felt to walk into a room where no one met their eyes, it would be Colby. He'd been there, but he'd also been vindicated. Nothing can change the fact that Ian's reputation is based on killing people. Never mind that people higher up the food chain had decided that those people were evil and needed killing. Never mind how many people below him were walking around and living their lives because he'd removed the threat to their existence.
So maybe Colby might join him for a few beers, commiserate about how they'd both been treated… Only it would stop there. Colby couldn't relate to Ian's body count. He'd been a soldier, but it's easy to assume firing into a group that you didn't hit anyone. 'Laying down suppressive fire' is a mental euphemism where you convince yourself you were just scaring the enemy into not shooting back. But snipers saw all through their scopes. Kills were planned, present and purposeful. There was no denying it, no sharing the blame.
So while Ian kept wanting to invite Colby for drinks after cases in L.A., to invite him back to his hotel to talk, to drag him into his bed to help him forget… Some part of him knew that would be selfish. For the younger man to truly share his pain Colby would have to be as dirty as Ian felt inside. Tainted as he was, Ian could never do that to someone with enough innocence left to look at him in hero worship.
He wanted Colby, but he couldn't have him.
+
"Come on, man. It's just a beer or two. No big deal."
Ian stares at Charlie like he's even more foreign than a soft academic who sticks his floppy mop of a head into FBI business.
Blinking, he seems to find his feet following the crowd as they head out to some local cop bar. Ian never goes to these things. They remind him of what he doesn't get to do on the job: bond with anyone.
Still, the younger Eppes brother is insistent that this time Ian comes with, and so he goes.
It's pretty loud and boisterous, but the pitchers of beer keep appearing and people seem genuinely pleased that Ian's joined them. He attributes the warmth he feels inside to the alcohol, but there's something else…
Charlie plops his tipsy self next to Ian and proceeds to engage him so deeply in conversation that Ian's shocked when last call rolls around and almost everyone else has gone.
They share a cab, but Charlie gets out when they arrive at Ian's hotel, apparently unable to stop himself in the middle of the story he's telling. It's a good thing they go to Ian's room since the story takes another forty minutes to finish.
It's worth it though. At the end Ian has a sensation that is rare to him. The story? He could relate to it. Listening to the tale, Ian feels like someone understood - really understood.
"Did you…" Ian cocks his head at Charlie, feeling weirdly uncertain all of a sudden. "Did you make that story up? For me?"
Charlie gets up out of the chair he's been liquidly splayed over since his arrival and joins Ian, sitting on the bed.
"Does it matter?" Charlie matches his gaze without flinching, no mean feat for this little man in Ian's estimation. Snipers are scary people, except, apparently to math geniuses. "More importantly, did it help?"
"Yes." The answer almost surprises Ian, but somewhere in the spell his mind's been under this evening, he's known it's true. "Yes…" Ian leans in as Charlie's long lashes flutter and close in preparation for the kiss Charlie clearly expects next. Charlie had to have known already that this moment was inevitable even if Ian had been distracted by all the men he wanted but couldn't have.
He'd been too focused on what he thought he wanted, but it wasn't what he needed.
He needs this, needs Charlie, even if he never saw it coming.
=