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numb3rsflashficTitle: At the Sky
Pairing/Characters: Don, Terry
Rating/Category: G/Gen
Word Count: 468
Spoilers: none - set shortly pre-series
Summary: Don was on his back, staring at the sky and wondering, not for the first time, why this was better than baseball.
Don was on his back, staring at the sky and wondering, not for the first time, why this was better than baseball.
There was the cool factor, of course, but, hey, baseball was cool. Minor league ball couldn't beat the FBI, though, and he'd never have made it to the bigs. He was pretty sure he'd never have made it to the bigs. Maybe he should have been patient, stuck it out a little longer. He'd been happy playing baseball, really. No one had ever shot him when he was playing baseball.
But his heart hadn't been in it anymore, after he realized he was only good, and not great. He wasn't sure he was a great FBI agent. He didn't think great FBI agents found themselves lying in the street, staring up at the sky and rethinking their career choices. But he was good at his job, and he couldn't say his heart wasn't in it, after all. Ten years in, it was still the last thing he thought of at night and the first in the morning, once he started thinking about anything at all.
Baseball had been like that once, but now it was the Bureau. He didn't have any pithy reasons he could recite to himself at moments like this. Terry probably did, something about making the world a better place or protecting the innocent by kicking the asses of the guilty or doing good works. Don never really thought about it when he had a reasonable command of his verbal skills. It just was how it was. He did the work he did, because it was his work. He just knew.
That was what they said, wasn't it, about love? You just knew. And even if he kept winding up lying in the street looking up at the sky--even if at some point he wound up lying in the street, not looking up at the sky--he knew. This was what he would do: because it was cool, because it was important, because he was good at it. Because he loved it.
Don opened his eyes on the bright blue glare above him, wondering when he'd closed them, and then looked down from the sky to Terry, crouching at his side. "It's love," he said.
Terry didn't quite smile as she patted him on the vest, thoughfully to one side of where he'd been shot. "Don, you have a concussion."
He closed his eyes again and curled his mouth into a smile. "Terry, I don't have a concussion."
"If you try to stand up again, I'll give you one."
Don tried to nod and winced. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than he thought, going down. "I wasn't talking about you, anyway."
"Uh-huh," Terry said. "Oh, look, here come the paramedics."
Pairing/Characters: Don, Terry
Rating/Category: G/Gen
Word Count: 468
Spoilers: none - set shortly pre-series
Summary: Don was on his back, staring at the sky and wondering, not for the first time, why this was better than baseball.
Don was on his back, staring at the sky and wondering, not for the first time, why this was better than baseball.
There was the cool factor, of course, but, hey, baseball was cool. Minor league ball couldn't beat the FBI, though, and he'd never have made it to the bigs. He was pretty sure he'd never have made it to the bigs. Maybe he should have been patient, stuck it out a little longer. He'd been happy playing baseball, really. No one had ever shot him when he was playing baseball.
But his heart hadn't been in it anymore, after he realized he was only good, and not great. He wasn't sure he was a great FBI agent. He didn't think great FBI agents found themselves lying in the street, staring up at the sky and rethinking their career choices. But he was good at his job, and he couldn't say his heart wasn't in it, after all. Ten years in, it was still the last thing he thought of at night and the first in the morning, once he started thinking about anything at all.
Baseball had been like that once, but now it was the Bureau. He didn't have any pithy reasons he could recite to himself at moments like this. Terry probably did, something about making the world a better place or protecting the innocent by kicking the asses of the guilty or doing good works. Don never really thought about it when he had a reasonable command of his verbal skills. It just was how it was. He did the work he did, because it was his work. He just knew.
That was what they said, wasn't it, about love? You just knew. And even if he kept winding up lying in the street looking up at the sky--even if at some point he wound up lying in the street, not looking up at the sky--he knew. This was what he would do: because it was cool, because it was important, because he was good at it. Because he loved it.
Don opened his eyes on the bright blue glare above him, wondering when he'd closed them, and then looked down from the sky to Terry, crouching at his side. "It's love," he said.
Terry didn't quite smile as she patted him on the vest, thoughfully to one side of where he'd been shot. "Don, you have a concussion."
He closed his eyes again and curled his mouth into a smile. "Terry, I don't have a concussion."
"If you try to stand up again, I'll give you one."
Don tried to nod and winced. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than he thought, going down. "I wasn't talking about you, anyway."
"Uh-huh," Terry said. "Oh, look, here come the paramedics."
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*adores this*
Date: 2006-02-06 07:36 pm (UTC)*LOL* That's ridiculously cute. This is a great little piece. :D
Re: *adores this*
Date: 2006-02-08 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 08:49 pm (UTC)This was really cute! I like that one reason Don likes it so much is because of the "cool factor", hehe. And thanks for giving me something to do at work besides staring into space. :)
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Date: 2006-02-08 12:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 08:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-08 12:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 11:24 pm (UTC)Such a wonderful little look into the brain of Don Eppes. Thank you!
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Date: 2006-02-08 12:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-07 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-08 12:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-07 12:58 am (UTC)Very creative use of flak jacket and reminiscing. I like these 2 parts esp.
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Date: 2006-02-08 12:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-08 04:00 am (UTC)You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing when I read your story. No matter what pairing one ships, it's just nice to sometimes see characters as individuals in their own right, rather than in tandem with someone else all the time. Although Terry played a prominent role in your story, it was still about Don and his epiphany about his career and other choices.
*raises beer bottle* Hear, hear!
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Date: 2006-02-07 04:37 am (UTC)This was so much fun!
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Date: 2006-02-08 12:37 am (UTC)I am writing a long Numb3rs fic with a lot of Don (and some Terry, too!) and while it's not exactly about what makes him tick, it definitely comes up.
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Date: 2006-02-08 02:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-07 05:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-07 05:54 pm (UTC)Lines like that? The reason you have my eternal devotion. *bg*
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Date: 2006-02-09 10:10 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2006-02-07 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 04:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-16 06:09 pm (UTC)