Fic: Claiming The Luggage (Numb3rs, Don / Martin)
Title: Claiming the Luggage
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pair: Don Eppes / Martin Fridegord
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Feedback: Always Welcome
NUMB3RS Main List
”Was that it?” Don tried to check the wave of people jostling past them in the lobby, but all the smaller people were accompanied by their parents. He waved his cardboard sign above his head, but no one noticed.
”No, I think those were on the one coming from New York, so you can put that down.” Martin commented and handed Don a hot take-away cup. ”His flight isn’t supposed to land for another five minutes, and when was the last time you saw a flight coming early?”
”Yeah.” Don agreed. He took a sip from his coffee and followed Martin to one of the free benches. “Why couldn’t they pick some other day than Friday? They’re putting a five year old alone in an airplane on one of the busiest days of the week and it’s so crowded a kid that size could get lost.”
“I know, but the airlines promised to have someone to escort him out, and my parents will see him to the plane in San Diego. They booked the flight, so blame them.”
“Are they already sighing with relief?”
“I don’t know about that…” Martin smirked and took a sip from his coffee. “… but their own flight left two hours after Tommy’s.”
“Where are they going?”
“To Tahiti for two weeks. My dad said he’s taking mom there to rest her nerves after all this.”
“Yeah. I guess a kid can get on your nerves if you were already planning to spend the rest of your swinging years in leisure.” Don sipped slowly and pouted like a disgruntled kid. “What exactly do you do when you’re spending time in leisure?”
“Anything, except work.”
“Golf?”
“Probably.”
“Can I retire now?” Don asked dreamily. “Golf and those drinks with little umbrellas…”
“Are you feeling old again?”
“Yeah… Got tackled by a woman.”
“Is there more to the story than that?”
“She was an old wrestler.”
“How old?”
“About a hundred pounds older than she was when she last had a real match.”
“I thought that whole tackling people issue was Colby’s territory.”
“It is, but she kinda surprised me. Waited till my back was turned.”
“But you walked out on your own two feet.”
“Barely. Made me remember why I preferred petite women.” Don dumped his empty cup into the nearest trashcan. “One guy I knew used to say he won’t date a woman she can’t lift. That was his big test for first dates.”
“Can I make a little stab in the dark?”
“Sure.”
“Was that when you were in high school?”
“Yeah.” Don admitted. “Does it sound so juvenile?”
“Yep.” Martin confirmed. He pulled his walled out, flipped it open and took out his drivers licence. “You got any IDs?”
“Besides my badge? Yeah, why?”
“The hostess, who escorts him out of the plane is supposed to have our names and ask for IDs.”
“Isn’t it enough that Tommy knows us?”
“No.” Martin gave him a long look. “When we’re talking about a little boy in the middle of a crowd, in a city full of perverts, they better ask for IDs.”
“What do you do if they don’t?”
“Make an official complaint of course.” Martin weighted his wallet in his hand.
“What are you thinking now?” Don asked and pulled his own ID from his back pocket.
“If I give you a fiver, will you take out the trash when we get home?”
“Is that a trick question? Normally you make me do it for free.”
“No, I was thinking what would be a good allowance for a five year old.”
“Five bucks sounds fair. If he needs something bigger, he can ask.”
“Right, it’s fair.” Martin nodded, but didn’t sound convinced. “I know it’s fair and right, it’s just nerve-wracking.”
Don didn’t ask what he was talking about. The man’s fingers tapping nervously against the leather wallet were saying more than words.
“The kid likes you, so I’m the one who should be worried.”
“What if it doesn’t work and he wants to go back to San Diego?”
“It’s way too early to worry about that, and he seemed to be happy enough to come live here.” Don shrugged. “And it’s not like he was that happy to stay with your parents and those people he knew before that-” He suppressed the rest of the thought.
“Say what you wanted to say. You mean that the people he and Jo lived with are long gone.”
“Yeah, so I kinda doubt he would miss them too much.” A question popped into Don’s mind and since the topic as already on the table, he decided to go on. “Have you thought about them?”
“Have I thought about the possibility that one of those guys might be Tommy’s father?” Martin completed the question.
“Yeah.”
“No. Jo told our mom the father was with them for a little while, and he was gone before Tommy was born. At least she was pretty sure it was him. With that lifestyle she couldn’t be completely sure and mom didn’t want to hear the details. They didn’t talk much about that stuff anyway. And even the birth certificate is sparse. Father unknown.”
“You wanna stop here?”
“Yeah…” Martin rubbed his eyes, and looked up, blinking rapidly. He forced a little smile on. “Besides… at least Tommy doesn’t have that charming little habit you had when you were a kid.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Alan told me all about your bedwetting phase. With pictures.”
“He didn’t…”
“He did, and before you ask, he showed me all your baby pictures. All of them, so don’t try to deny it.”
“Okay, but I stopped that before I turned four.”
“When your mom gave you back your teddy bear.”
“That’s gotta be something they teach to new fathers: How to embarrass your kids even from the beyond.”
“Come on, you were a really cute kid.”
“Thanks. Of course then came Charlie.” Don grimaced and got up from the bench. “An even cuter kid.”
“Don…”
“I’m not gonna rant, just stating facts. Being five was a big thing, I became a big brother.” He lowered his voice and did his best imitation of Vincent Price. “A big, curly shadow was cast across the land, dooming everyone to eternal darkness and puppy eyes and babble… and then began… the MathAge.”
“Have I ever told you that your Vincent Price sounds like Al Bundy?”
“Excuse me, are you-” The feminine voice didn’t get a chance to finished her question. Little boy pulled his hand from her hold and tackled Martin’s thigh with the speed of a cannonball. “I guess you are.” The airline hostess gestured at the sign in Don’s hands. “Fridayboard and Eppestein?”
“Fridegord.” Martin corrected with a little grin. “Three syllables, and I`ve heard people butchering it a lot worse than you did, so don`t worry about it.”
“And Eppes.” Don added and shrugged. “I think that’s two syllables.”
“Oh…” She took another look at the printed sheet in her hand and nodded. “Sorry. If it helps, I still can’t remember my co-worker’s names either. I need to see some IDs.” She checked their IDs, then offered Martin a pen and pointed at the stack of papers. “I need a signature here, please. Last page.”
“Of course.” Martin flipped through the sheets to the last page. “Re-claiming lost luggage?”
“We don’t really have forms for this, so that was the closest thing they could find. Basically you check the luggage is yours, it hasn’t been damaged and… Sorry.”
“Are you okay?” Martin looked down at the boy, who was still attached to his hip. The boy didn’t say anything, but he nodded his head. Martin signed the papers and handed them back to the hostess.
“Thank you.” She twirled around on her heels and grabbed her own bags. “I’ve been waiting for this… Three days still, and no one asking for coffee or tea. Just sleep.” She vanished quickly into the crowd.
“I think she really needs it.” Don agreed and looked down at the colourful backbag in the kid’s back. “Anyway, did you have more stuff with you or is that it?”
“That’s all.” Tommy grinned and hung on to Martin’s belt while they started the slow walk to the front doors. “Mom said we can always borrow something on the way.”
“Well, you’re mom was…” Don send Martin a desperate "Help Me!" look. “She was…”
Tommy looked up at him and his green eyes seemed to grow bigger by the second, adding a whole new layer to Don’s agony. He had a feeling his and the kid’s mother’s interpretations of "borrowing" were quite different.
“She… I guess… actually… That’s not how most people do it, so we’re not gonna do it that way either, okay?”
The boy twisted his head to see Martin’s reaction, then looked at Don again and nodded.
“Okay.” His eyes didn’t to leave Don’s for few minutes and Don was starting to feel like a victim in horror movie, just before the moment when an innocent looking kid turns into a flesh-eating monster and rips him apart.
“Good.” Martin finally interrupted the staring match. “First we’ll go home and get you settled, and then we’ll go out for dinner.”
“Out where?”
“Remember that place where grandpa and grandma took you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you like that kind of food?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we can go to an Italian place.”
“The same place?”
“No. Different place, same kind of food.”
“Okay.”
“Fine with me.” Don agreed and leaned closer to whisper in Martin’s ear. “Are you still gonna pay me that five bucks if I take out the trash?”
“No, that was just a rhetorical question.” Martin kept his voice low, and Tommy was too busy checking his surroundings to listen. “But I can reward you in another way if you empty the dishwasher.”