Fic: Gifted (Numb3rs, Don Eppes / Martin)
Title: Gifted
Pair: Don Eppes / Martin Fridegord
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Feedback: Always Welcome
NUMB3RS Main List
“I’m back.” Don announced from the door and walked into the apartment. “Where are you?”
“Bedroom.”
Don followed the voice to the bedroom, where Martin was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his back against the headboard and tapping furiously at the keyboard of his laptop.
“Work?”
“No, research. How`s Charlie?”
“A total slave-driver. He made me and Granger do all the work.”
“You didn’t really expect him to help, did you?”
“Well…. no. But he should have offered.”
“That dresser is big and oak is heavy, can you imagine Charlie carrying it?”
“I see your point. Wait a minute, how did you know how big and oaky it is?”
“Who do you think chose the dresser?”
“You’re redecorating my parent’s old house?” Don gave him a sceptical glance. “That’s weird in so many ways….”
“I’m not redecorating, Charlie is. He just wanted my opinion.”
“Why? I mean….” Don made a vague gesture to the apartment. “Old craftsman house? Not exactly your style.”
“Just because I like light colours and modern style, it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate other styles. I had to listen enough lectures about decorating when I was growing up, to know more about that stuff than your average professional decorator. Remember what my parent house looked like last time we were there?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s my mom’s annual ritual. She get’s the place redone once a year.”
“Every year?”
“Yep.”
“I had my old place for ages and I never did anything about it.”
“And that’s exactly what it looked like…. Anyway, my dad just lets her do what she wants, because it means he can actually get some time alone.”
“I didn’t know they have problems.”
“They don’t, but what do you expect when you’re married to a dedicated sextherapist who’s licensed to prescribe Viagra and to charge by the hour?”
“Too much information….”
“You want to ditch that topic?” Martin smirked.
“Yeah. What were doing when I came in?”
“Take a look.” Martin handed the laptop over to Don. “What do you think?”
“It’s a map.”
“And?”
“It’s….” Don leaned closer to the screen. “…a map of Europe?”
“I was thinking what you said about doing something next month-”
“When did I say that?”
“Couple weeks ago, when you said you had some vacation time coming up.”
“So why am I looking at the map?”
“You said you’ve never been to Europe. Wanna go now?”
“Where exactly are we going?”
“How bout Sweden? I haven’t been there since that family get-together last year.”
“Sweden?” Don stared at him. “You wanna take me to Sweden.”
“Well, if you want to go somewhere else-”
“No, I was just surprised. Country full of tall blonds sounds very inviting.”
“I know where you got that impression. It was that beer commercial with identical siblings who also had identical breast implants. Real people don’t look that fake.” Martin corrected. “So you wanna go?”
“I know that tone.” Don grinned. “You already booked the tickets, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“How much did they cost?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Why do you want to know?”
“I want to pay half.”
“I planned the trip, I’ll handle it.
“Of course you’ll handle it….” Don groaned.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing, so spit it out.” Martin closed the lid of his laptop.
“Fine, I’ll tell you.” Don got up from the bed and walked to the wardrobe, pulling out an armful of clothes. “Look at these.”
“I’m looking. What’s your point?”
“I wore that to work last week and that too, and I wore this one when I was testifying in a court hearing-”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“And this.” Don waved his hand to show off his watch. “You really don’t see what I’m talking about?”
“Still no.”
“Over half of my clothes is stuff you bought for me. And you brought me a watch from one of you work trips.”
“And?”
“And I’m living in your place, and you’re gonna take me on a vacation. If I didn’t have a job of my own, I’d be a kept man!”
“So we’re talking about your manhood.”
“This has nothing to do with my manhood.”
“Well, I can’t see what other issues there could be. I get paid better than you and I like to spoil you. So what?”
“So that! I’m not the girl in this relationship.”
“There is no girl in this relationship.”
“You know what I mean. I don’t need to pay rent anymore, so it’s not like I can’t pitch in on stuff.”
“Don….” Martin groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “We already split most of the everyday stuff, groceries and all that. If I want to give you something, it doesn’t mean you’re a girl.”
“That’s the whole point. You can do that, but I can’t, and then I start feeling like a freeloader, who takes gifts and never gives anything back.”
“Listen-”
“Don’t start any clichés about how I give you something more important than pricey gifts, I saw a speech like that on TV last night and it was so syrupy I had to switch the channel.”
“You switched the channel because you started crying.”
“I didn’t cry! I may have sniffled in a manly way, but I didn’t cry.”
“Right….” Martin tried to keep a straight face, but failed. “Can we make a compromise?”
“What kind of compromise?”
“You do your job at the bureau and when you’re off you’ll work as my private gigolo.”
“What does that include?” Don tried to stay offended, but his face didn’t seemd to follow the plan. His lips were curling up into a smile on their own.
“I keep spoiling you as usual and you’ll be at my beck and call to keep me satisfied.”
“How’s that different from the current situation?” Don laughed.
“You can add a new entry to your resume.”
“What exactly is my title?”
“Maybe something like…. Eskortpojke, första klassen.”
“Is that Swedish?”
“Yeah.”
“What does it mean?”
“Literal translation would something like…. Rent boy, first class.”
“First class?”
“Definitely.”
“Is that some kinda freelance gig or steady employment?”
“Very steady.”
“Do I need to put in a lot of overtime?”
“All the time.”
“Do I get a uniform?”
“Yep, your birthday suit.”
“Any all nighters?”
“Well, it’s a rough job-”
“-but somebody’s gotta do it.” Don agreed and leaped onto the bed. “Do I get a Christmas bonus?”