Fic: Coping Mechanisms, Chapter 2/2 (Numb3rs, Don Eppes / Martin)
Title: Coping Mechanisms, Chapter 2/2
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pair: Charlie Eppes / Colby Granger,
Don Eppes / Martin Fridegord
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Feedback: Always Welcome
NUMB3RS Main List
Follows:
On the Edge, Chapter 1/2
On the Edge, Chapter 2/2
Break the News
Coping Mechanisms, Chapter 1/2
“Anybody home?” Martin called as he walked in. Don came from the bathroom in his robe, drying his hair.
“What took you so long? I had to shower alone.”
“I dropped by to chat with Colby.”
“Did you see Chuck?”
“Yeah.”
“How was he?”
“Better. Exhausted, but better.”
“Okay…. You wanna eat something?”
“Here or out?”
Don shrugged. “I could do something.”
“You could but then I can’t eat it.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“No, you’re worse. I still can’t understand how you managed to live with your concoctions and actually stay alive.”
“I can cook!”
“You can cook a steak and cook spaghetti. That’s the limit for your culinary skills.”
“Well, we can’t all have a three star chef as a father.”
“Your dad was pretty close to that. And your mom was a great cook. Didn’t you ever get any pointers?”
“I was really into baseball.”
“So you expected that someone else will feed you?”
“You make it sound like a bad thing! And I fed myself when I was away from L.A.”
“Really? What did you make?”
“This and that….”
“Translation: A lot of take-out and some instant noodles.”
“Are we gonna eat?”
“Sure. I got an idea.”
“What?”
“You’ll cook, I’ll guide.”
“Are you serious?”
“Did you read that story about a dog?”
“No….”
“Someone left it alone in an apartment and the closet was full of dog food. He couldn’t open them so he starved. That’s pretty close to your situation.”
“You’re comparing me to a mutt?
“With love. Get dressed, I’ll see what we got in the kitchen.”
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“What do I do now?”
“It’s a smoked ham, you cut it.” Martin handed him a sharp knife and plate.
“Remind me….. What exactly are we doing?”
“Raclette.”
“Okay…”
“That’s the name of the dish and the name of a cheese, but we don’t have it, so we’ll have to use the cheese we have.”
“And what’s in the dish besides the ham?”
“Potatoes, and cheese. It’s a really simple dish for a really elementary cook.”
“So why can’t you just say it’s ham and potatoes with melted cheese?”
“Because it has a name. It’s a traditional dish.”
“Traditional where?”
“Switzerland, Wallonia and France.”
“Wallonia?”
“It’s a French speaking district in Belgium.”
Don dumped the cut ham on a plate. “You just love to lecture me, don’t you?”
“Sometimes. I listened to you when you made your speech yesterday.”
“What speech?”
“The one about how the FBI has no idea about the practical demands of firearms when categorising service guns.”
“That wasn’t a lecture.”
“No, that was more like a half an hour rant. And I listened patiently.” Martin approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around Don’s waist.
“Why do you have to do that….?” Don chuckled.
“What? I haven’t done anything.”
“You’re trying to distract me.”
“I just put my hand around you.”
“And that was enough.” Don tilted his head back for a quick kiss. “Now what?”
“Now you put the potatoes on plates and pour the cheese on top of them.”
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“That was good.” Don groaned and leaned back in his chair. He patted his belly, sighing deeply. “I’m stuffed.”
“I told you it’s better when you actually make it.”
“Yeah.” Don didn’t say anything for a minute.
“What are you thinking?”
“You said Charlie’s better.”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He exhausted Colby, but they’ll recover. He’s seen a shrink about it.”
“A shrink? Willingly?”
“Yeah, and don’t look like that. Hayes is a good guy, he’s had a lot of experience with PTS cases.”
“Is it working?”
“I think so. Have you hear anything from those…. whatever they were….I.S. guys?”
“I.I.? Internal Investigation. They called me couple days ago.”
“And?”
“Cooper’s dead, so their investigation is closed. The bureau will pay compensations to the family of that guy he put into a coma.”
“Is that part of what’s bothering you?”
“What do you mean?”
“He did nasty stuff to a lot of people. Charlie got away with few bruises, but it could have been a lot worse.”
“Maybe. Do we have any desert?”
“You’re avoiding it again.”
“No, but if I’m gonna spill my guts out I want to do it over ice cream.”
“Freezer, next to the peas.”
Epilogue