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A Week in Watson	By : IrenaAdler Category: M through R > NUMB3RS Views: 2710 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own NUMB3RS, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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The middle of
winter.� The middle of nowhere.� Wonderful.

FBI Special Agent Don Eppes gripped the wheel of his black
SUV tightly, as if he could keep it on the icy road by determination alone.

�I hate snow,� he grumbled.

�You�ve mentioned that,� Agent David Sinclair
responded.�

�Multiple times,� Agent Colby Granger added.

�Yeah, well, I�m a southern California guy.� When I haven�t been in LA, I�ve been in
places like New Mexico
� warm places.�

�This is nothing,� Colby laughed.� �A little snow and you go all surfer boy on us.�

They were heading up into the San
Bernardino Mountains, far out of Don�s comfort zone.� Then
again, I�d go to Antarctica to catch this one.

Don and his fellow agents were on the trail of a bank
robber, a nasty one.� This man changed
his appearance at every robbery, changed with significant skill which suggested
theater training.� That lead had given
them Lon McCarty, ex-professional makeup artist, actor, and paroled felon.� They had staked out his house for a week with
nothing to show for it.� Then McCarty
decided to take a trip out of town, and Don, David, and Colby followed.� Don would prefer to bring along an entire
SWAT team, but it was going to be hard enough to hide the three of them where
they were going.

McCarty�s system was simple.�
He always did small town banks, but banks that had high cash reserves
for some reason, like an Army base nearby.�
He would visit a bank for multiple days before he struck.� Sometimes it was two days, sometimes he
visited the bank every day for two weeks before he pulled his gun.� His makeup and acting was so good that the
FBI could only tell which person he was when he finally made his move.

It was Megan�s opinion that McCarty was like a mugger or a
rapist, watching until he found someone that radiated �victim.�� Then he would strike � first he would shoot
any security guards and get the clerk to empty out all of the drawers into a
large sack.� He would lean over and say
something to the clerk, something which surveillance hadn�t been able to pick
up, and shoot the clerk through the forehead.�

He wouldn�t shoot anyone else, unless they tried to stop him
leaving.� It didn�t seem to matter to him
if the bank was packed full of customers.�
All that mattered was the moment of connection between him and his chosen
victim.� That and the hundreds of
thousands of dollars he had reaped.

�Do you know where we�re headed yet?�� Don asked Colby in the back seat.�

Colby had several maps spread out next to him, along with
lists of likely targets.� Charlie had
given them that list, and damn if every bank the man hit hadn�t been on there,
but they still hadn�t been able to catch him.�
Seven banks.� Fourteen dead.

Don squeezed the steering wheel harder.

�From Charlie�s list, it looks like Watson,� Colby said.

�What�s in Watson?��
Don asked.

�Not much, less than a thousand people, but there�s a bank,
and the big ski resorts higher up in the mountains funnel all their cash
through Watson,� Colby responded.

�Sounds ideal for our guy,� David said.

�Yeah, ideal,� Don grumbled. �And cold.�

David and Colby laughed and Don turned his full attention
back to the road.� He could hear the soft
blip of the tracker that David was working, but there wasn�t much tracking to
be done.� There was one road, going in
one direction � up.

They got into Watson late, after the bank had closed for the
day.� They followed the tracker through
town until they found McCarty�s truck parked outside a small Bed &
Breakfast.

Don debated with himself � they should probably stay and
watch him tonight, but there was nowhere to park, to hide.� If he had been trailing a fugitive, he�d be
camping out in the snow tonight.� But
McCarty wasn�t going to do anything until the bank opened in the morning.� And it was snowing.

�Did I see a motel on the way into town?�� Don asked.

�Yeah,� David said, �Think we should?�

�I think it will be okay,� Don replied.

From the back seat, Colby said, �I think we should.�� Don got the feeling that Colby had just
answered a very different question than Don had.

With a fair amount of grumbling, Don got the SUV turned
around on the narrow icy road and they headed back into town.� The motel turned out to not look too
bad.� He�d definitely stayed in
worse.� He pulled into the parking lot
and got out his cell phone.

�Go get us some rooms,� Don told David.� �I�ll call in.�

A look flashed between David and Colby that Don couldn�t
interpret and David climbed out of the car.

David came back just as Don was finishing up his report to
the office.� David tossed him a hotel key
and went to get his bag out of the back.�
Colby followed him and Don saw them hold a short whispered
conversation.� David nodded and Colby
grinned � wolfishly was the word that
came to Don�s mind.

Shaking his head to clear the road-induced muddle, Don got
out and grabbed his own bag.� David and
Colby�s bags were much larger, but they hadn�t done fugitive recovery, didn�t
know how to travel light.

David opened the door to the first motel room.�

�Hey this is kinda nice,� Don said.� It was a large room, probably advertised as
the �Honeymoon Suite.�� There was a king
sized bed, a separate sitting area surrounding a large TV, and through the
bathroom door he could spot a jacuzzi.� �Shouldn�t the lead agent get this one?�

David shrugged and shut the door behind them, closing off
the cold air.� He threw his bag onto the
bed.� Colby followed suit.� They were both staying here?�

Colby sat down on the bed and bounced a little.� �Nice bed.�

Don frowned.� �Didn�t
they have another room available, or one with more beds?� I�m sure the department can afford another
motel room, especially if we manage to catch McCarty.�

David smiled.� �Colby
and I don�t mind sharing.�

�Okay, but �,"� he
brought himself up short.� Something
about that smile ��What�s going on?�

�Not much,� David said, �Just Colby and I sharing a
bed.� One bed.� All night.�

Don swallowed. �You can�t mean ��

�Yes, I do,� David said.�
He paused and then said very deliberately, �Me and Colby here are
fuck-buddies.�

Don stumbled backwards a step.� �What did you say?�� He stepped farther back until he was pressed
up against the wall between the window and the door.

�Fuck-buddies, were his exact words,� Colby said cheerfully.

�How could you�How long have you�What��

�Six months,� David said easily, leaning against the back of
the couch.� �Remember that week-long
stakeout of the Johnson brothers?�

�You know this is wrong,� Don fumbled. �Wrong on so many
levels.�

�Is it?�� David asked.

�You�you work together!�
And-and you�re guys!��

�Glad you noticed.��
David said with a smile.

�You�re gay?�

�Not really.�� David
shrugged.� �Bisexual if you have to label
it.� See, where I grew up, you got
pleasure were you could find it.� There
wasn�t any labels on it.� Just fun and
pure physical gratification. �It�s not
something that we sat around and analyzed, but I have the feeling that you need
words, something to process in your head.�
You always think too much.�� He
smiled. �And if I touched you without explanation, you�d break my arm.

He continued, �But tell me that it wouldn�t be nice to have
someone want you, lust after you, give you pleasure with no strings
attached.�� We�ve been doing this off and
on for six months and you never would have noticed if we hadn�t let you.� We never let it go outside the hotel � not at
home or anywhere else but these sorts of opportunities.� It works, Don, and it�s
fucking good.�

Don turned wide eyes to Colby, who had been sitting there
silent.� �And you?�

Colby smiled sheepishly and shrugged his broad
shoulders.� �What can I say?� It�s a helluva lot of fun.�� His smile grew bigger.� �Just call me David�s bitch.�

Don felt his jaw drop and he scrambled for the door.� Fumbling for the knob, he jerked the door
open and fell outside.� He ran to his own
motel room next door, his hands shaking as he tried to unlock the door.� He finally got the door unlocked and he
slammed it behind himself.� Then he
locked it, latched it, and shoved a chair in front of it.�

He stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it before
vomiting up his long-ago lunch.� Pulling
himself up to the sink, he splashed his face.�
The face that looked back from him looked pale and shocked.� With shaking knees, he crossed to the bed and
sat down.

This can�t be
happening.� My two male agents � sleeping
together?� Don groaned and flopped
down on the bed.� Maybe I misunderstood, Maybe I �

David saying, �It�s fucking good.�� Colby�s grin as he said, �Just call me
David�s bitch.�� No misunderstanding, just a � helluva problem.� That�s right.�
If he could just think of it as a personnel problem, two of his agents
getting involved.� Involved?� Involved in�

�Stop it, stop it,� he told himself angrily as images he did
not want came flooding into his mind.� He
scrambled for the TV remote and turned the TV on.� He flipped through the channels until he
found an episode of one of the CSIs.� He
focused fiercely on it, analyzing it for errors in procedure or
technology.�

A sound from next door � a laugh, then what could have only
been a moan.� Don turned the TV volume up
higher and gritted his teeth.

The next morning, Don woke to find himself still in his
clothes and the TV playing some inane morning talk show.� His mouth tasted awful and he remembered that
he had vomited last night.� Last night
after he found out �

Don jumped to his feet and started shedding his
clothes.� He climbed into the shower
stall and turned the water on as hot as it would go.� As the water poured over him, he made himself
think about McCarty, reviewed the photos of the victims in his mind.� By the time his fingers had started to
wrinkle, Don was fully focused on getting McCarty � and getting back to
civilization.

Don had just finished putting on his shoes when there was a knock at the
door.� He stood up and pulled open the
door.� David was standing there, with
Colby a few steps away.

Before David could say anything, Don brushed past them.� �Let�s go get this guy.�

He felt rather than saw a look pass between them.� �Okay,� David said and that was it.

They had the SUV parked in a nearby driveway when McCarty
came out of the B&B.� If McCarty
didn�t make his move today � and he never had at the first day in a new place �
they�d have to find a new place to hide the car.

As it was, the only way they knew it was McCarty was because
the person came out of the B&B and got in McCarty�s car.� Where McCarty was tall with a full head of
hair, this man was stooped and balding.�
McCarty was a pale white, but this man had a slight Latino flavor to his
skin and face.� Don doubted very much if
any facial recognition program would recognize McCarty in this old man.

�Amazing,� Colby breathed.�
�He�s good.�

�Yeah,� Don said.�
�After we put him in jail, we�ll give him an Emmy.�

The day went fairly uneventfully.� The three of them watched McCarty go to the
grocery store, the video store, and then the bank.� Don followed behind McCarty, his nerves
humming, but McCarty left the bank without incident, just like they
expected.� Don went to talk to the bank
manager while David and Colby continued to follow McCarty.

Don tracked down the bank manager and got him into his
office without anyone being too suspicious, he hoped.� There he told the manager that he was with
the FBI and after some persuasion that he was serious, instructed the manager
on what he needed to do.� The first thing
was the hardest � the security guard should never be on the same side of the
bullet-proof glass as the bank clients.��
There was nothing a security guard, or several security guards, could do
against a calculating killer like McCarty.�
The manager asked him why he didn�t just arrest McCarty now.� That was a sore spot with Don, but he had to
admit that they didn�t have anything against McCarty.� They were forced to wait until he actually
committed a crime.

After that, Don hung out in the bank lobby until David swung
by again.� He climbed into the car and
said that he thought the bank manager would cooperate.� David told him that McCarty had gone back to
the B&B, his bag of videos in hand.�
Colby was there, watching to make sure he didn�t leave the B&B, in
any disguise.

They drove back to the B&B and let a shivering Colby
into the car.

�Should have brought my ski parka,� Colby complained.

�You own a ski parka?��
David asked.

�Sure,� Colby replied.�
�You ever been skiing?�

�Not on snow,� David answered, �but I�ve been
waterskiing.� Once we ��

Don let himself tune out the conversation.� All day long he had been watching David and
Colby.� Even under close scrutiny, there
was no sign of their � relationship.� No
meaningful glances, sly innuendoes, or covert touches.� They seemed completely normal.� Just as if he hadn�t known.� But he did know.� And
wished to God I didn�t.

After the hour passed when the bank would close, the three
of them drove back to their motel and ate at the little restaurant there.� While they ate, they chatted about McCarty�s
movements, and the worsening weather.�
Don still couldn�t feel any weirdness in them - no sexually suggestive
conversation, no footsies under the table. �He began to wonder if he had just had a really
odd dream last night.�

David showed them some videos he had rented while in the
video shop watching McCarty.� The �suite�
had a DVD player attached to the TV.�
They agreed on Die Hard, and walked through the snowy parking lot to
their rooms.� Don went to his room and
took off his gun.� There was a knock at
his door.� He went and opened it, but
there was no one there.� The knock came
again and Don realized that it was coming from a door inside the room that he
had assumed was a cleaning supplies closet.�
He unlocked the knob and opened it up.�
Colby was standing on the other side, holding open another door.

�Communicating doors,� Colby announced, �Now you won�t have
to go outside to come see the movie.�

Don frowned and looked at Colby suspiciously.� Still, it was nice to be able to walk
straight through instead of going out in the increasingly harsh wind.

David was arguing with the DVD player but finally got the
movie to start playing.� He plopped down
onto the couch, a surprisingly abandoned gesture in such a controlled man, and
patted the cushion next to him.� Colby
joined David on the couch and Don took the chair.

The movie had barely got past the opening credits, when
Colby�s hands started drifting across David�s thighs.� David leaned back and started running his
fingers down Colby�s neck.� Why are they doing this, right in front of
me?� Don stared resolutely at the TV
screen for another five minutes then he jumped up, startling David and Colby
who were almost in each other�s laps.

�How about some popcorn?��
Don said, and could hear the panic in his own voice.� �I know I saw a microwave somewhere and oh
good, they provided popcorn.� What a nice
motel we have here.� Who would have
thought we�d find this in a place like Watson?��
Don realized that he was babbling and shut his mouth.� He put the bag of popcorn into the microwave
and stared at it until it finished.� He
did not - did not-- hear David
whispering something in a husky voice into Colby�s ear and Colby responding
with a deep sensual laugh.� They�re pushing me, forcing me to notice and
recognize this thing they have.� Do they
really expect me to be okay with it?� To
... join in?

The microwave dinged, and Don grabbed the bag out of it,
tossing it between two hands to avoid getting too burned.� Sitting back down in his chair, he opened the
bag.�� He scooped out a handful and
handed the bag to Colby.� David and Colby
shared the bag, taking out a few kernels at a time, and licking the salt and
grease from their fingers.�� Each time
they licked their fingers, it seemed more and more erotic.

Don forced his attention away from the others --� co-workers
and men, he reminded himself � and
back to Bruce Willis�s battle with glorified bank robbers.� That reminded him of McCarty and for a moment
he forgot his surroundings as he sorted through McCarty�s movements for the
day.� Were they missing anything?� Would the bank manager be able to keep his
side of the bargain or would he blow it and give Don more deaths for his
conscience?

There was a muffled sound and Don looked over at the David
and Colby � and froze.� David had both
hands on Colby�s cheeks and was kissing him deeply.� Colby was responding in kind, while pulling
David�s shirt out from his waistband and running his hands along David�s
stomach.�

�Shit!�� Don leapt out
of his chair.� In an instant, he was back
through the communicating door, slamming it and locking it behind him, and
across the room.� His brain finally began
to function again, and he realized that he was standing with his back against
the room�s far wall, his feet braced, and his gun in his hand.� His gun was pointing directly at the door he
had just come through.� His hands were
shaking and adrenaline was pumping through his body like he was facing down an
armed fugitive.�

Lower the gun, he
told his locked muscles. �Just lower the gun.� Inch by inch he forced his hands down until
the gun was pointed at the floor.� Then
he could peel his left hand off finger by finger and place the gun carefully on
the side table.� He sank slowly to the floor,
the image of David and Colby seared into his eyelids.

Why is it affecting me
so much?� I�ve known plenty of gay
people.� There was just something
about seeing them together.� David -- the
controlled, driven, Bronx tough guy � and
Colby � the ultra-macho Army Ranger.�
Something about their closeness, that made him want to join--.

Don shot up from the floor and scrambled frantically for the
TV remote.� He flipped channels until he
found some soft porn, then noticed with annoyance that he already had a total
hard-on.� From watching two men kiss each other?� He shuddered and focused on the busty women
bouncing across his screen.� He thought
he heard something from next door and turned up the TV.� He strained to hear over the TV anyway.�

He got up to get a drink of water, and found himself standing
next to the wall that he shared with the other room.� Muting the TV, he closed his eyes and
listened.� He heard someone laughing � David, then a gasp followed by a
groan.� A crash and he jumped.� Sounded like a chair just got knocked
over.� More laughter, from both men.� A loud creak, as if someone had just gotten
tossed onto the bed.� Grunts and gasps
then the rhythmic unmistakable creaking of the bed.� Someone
is getting fucked.

Fire shot into Don�s groin.�
He stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on his face.� �As he
filled up a glass with water, he realized that his hands were shaking.� He gulped down half the water, then refilled
the glass.

He flopped back on the bed and unmuted the TV.� The half-naked women were now touching each
other and making erotic noises.� They
sounded artificial in comparison to the real passion he had just heard next
door.

He unbuttoned then unzipped his jeans, reached through the
fly in his underwear and roughly pulled out his aching cock.� Busty
women, bouncing breasts.� Don
repeated to himself and for a brief moment was able to convince himself that
was what was making his cock pulse.� With
firm strokes, he almost angrily jerked himself off.� The orgasm was quick and largely
unfulfilling.� He pulled his clothes the
rest of the way off and wiped himself dry.�
Then he turned off the TV and the lights, and went to sleep with the
pillow over his head.
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A Week in Watson