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numb3rsflashficTitle: The Perfect Gift
Characters: Charlie, Don, Alan, Alan’s wife (name??) (no pairings)
Rating/Category: G
Word Count: 1,615
Spoilers: none really
Summary: The trouble with Charlie; looking back
Notes/Warnings: I decided to write another one since no one else was. It’s a cute idea I had, pure fluff really.
The Perfect Gift
by Ami-chan aka princessacadra
When Don stepped into Charlie’s work area at CalSci for the very first time there were several things that he noted immediately. One of them was that it wasn’t nearly as cluttered as he’d imagined it would be, the second was that Charlie was hard at work on whatever it was he had running through his head at that moment, and the third was the prism hanging in the window, refracting light and color across the room. The last gave him pause and he leaned against the wall just listening to the clack of chalk and Charlie’s occasional mumbling.
--Flashback--
It was always difficult getting Charlie presents of any kind. For his birthday their parents agonized over what to get him, what Charlie might like. He was eight, but Charlie didn’t like most eight-year-old type toys. He wasn’t particularly interested in action figures, he was only aware of the technical aspects of sports though he had liked the small basketball hoop he had gotten – Don thought that was because it was small enough that he could actually make it in the hoop, unlike the one in the driveway. In fact, Charlie favorite thing was his chalkboard, but there were only so many pieces of chalk and other writing implements that they could get him.
They’d gotten Charlie a train set once, but after he’d figured out its acceleration rate he hadn’t been interested in it anymore. All it did was go in circles, after all. He was entirely too logical and practical in this thinking, having little, well, creativity. They all tried, but it was hard to understand his way of thinking, though Don liked to believe he was getting better at predicting what Charlie would like and how he would respond to things. It was his very own project, the study of Charlie.
That was one of the reasons that Don was being dragged along with his mom to go gift-shopping for Charlie, because of his expertise on his brother’s likes and dislikes. She was picking up science sets, math-related books, anything that looked like something her youngest might actually want. There had to be at least eight things for the eight days of Chanukah, though often times they got more depending on how expensive those items were.
“What about this?” His mother held up what appeared to be a chemistry set of some sort.
“He might use it. For all of five minutes.”
She heaved a sigh and set it back. “You’re right, of course. Why is he so difficult to buy for?”
“Because he’s Charlie.” That was the best explanation Don could come up with. There wasn’t anyone else like Charlie, which could be annoying at times, but even so Charlie was still his brother. After hours of shopping, however, Don’s patience was beginning to wear thin. He was nearly ready to suggest that they just get things he would like and then he would have double the presents since Charlie wouldn’t want them anyway, when he saw it.
“Mom!”
“What is it, honey?” she inquired in a distracted manner and Don was just excited enough to allow her endearment, spoken in public no less, pass.
“Look!” He held up the glass prism from its little suction cup wire for her to see. Mom was not nearly as impressed or excited as Don was.
“For Charlie?”
Don was nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, for Charlie.” Though she was skeptical, she dutifully took the prism from his hand and added it to the other assortment of things that Charlie maybe, possibly would like.
By the time Chanukah rolled around Don had nearly forgotten about the gifts he had helped pick out for his little brother and, really, he was more concerned about opening his own gifts. They each got two small presents on the first day and Don was looking over his – baseball cards and more baseball cards – when he heard his mother’s worried tone. “Charlie?”
That was when Don looked up to find Charlie, his first present – a puzzle device, the kind Charlie always loved – abandoned while Charlie stared with fixed fascination at the second gift, the prism Don had picked out for him. With a smile Don plopped down beside his brother, reaching out to touch the hand holding the prism and moving it ever so slightly to get Charlie’s attention. “You see that?”
Charlie was nodding, his eyes never wavering.
“It looks better in real light,” he assured Charlie and Charlie nodded again, enthralled.
The next day Don found Charlie in the solarium, his little chalkboard in the center of the room along with a pile of notebooks and pencils because the chalkboard would only hold so much information and Charlie hated to erase it when he was in the middle of something. The prism was attached to one of the windows, casting light and colors across the room and most of the day Charlie just sat, watching the patterns silently. When Don went back to check on Charlie his brother had gone from immobile to a blur of activity, scribbling furiously in one of his numerous notebooks. Occasionally Charlie wandered here or there, looking at the lights, at the angles and seeing things that Don could only guess at.
Charlie had to be dragged from the solarium to light the menorah later and he showed only polite and vague interest in the presents he received. Even with the sun down Charlie was determined to return to whatever it was he was working on and after Charlie had been sent to bed, hours into the night, Don heard the unmistakable sound of Charlie’s bedroom door opening and shutting. The days passed like that, Charlie in the solarium calculating problems a child his age shouldn’t see.
It was the day before they went back to school that Charlie snapped out of his “math episode”, as they had taken to calling them. Mom ventured into the solarium ready to drag Charlie out of the room once more to make him eat and stay hydrated, when Charlie’s eyes cleared and he actually looked at her and smiled. “Look, look,” he said breathlessly, handing her what was apparently the last page of his great work. She’d studied it carefully even though Don knew she had no more idea what it meant that he did. But she smiled and it made Charlie beam with happiness.
“Wonderful, Charlie. You’ve figured it out perfectly.”
“It’s the light, the sun, the way it bends,” and Charlie was rambling about numbers and lights and colors and angles and they could only nod in agreement. Not that Charlie ever seemed to notice their lack of understanding or even the fact that their interest was partly feigned. All Charlie saw was how things worked, how they fit together based on factors they couldn’t comprehend and all they saw was a child delighted by what anyone else would have considered simply the beautiful play of light from a prism.
Only Charlie.
Then Charlie had launched himself at Don, hugging him as only he could, all innocence and pure energy, thanking him for the gift, somehow knowing that Don had picked it out for him.
Prisms became a regular gift for Charlie after that, nearly habit, and year after year more strings of prisms began to decorate the solarium, just for Charlie’s amusement. At times Don would find him in there, simply lost in some pattern invisible to his eye, just staring. Once Charlie told him that the prisms helped him to order his thoughts, that the play of light, so simple in his mind, showed him other patterns and pathways to more complex ideas. Don wasn’t sure how it all worked and never bothered to ask, but it had always been something he’d come to associate with Charlie.
--End Flashback--
When he’d returned home after his long absence the one thing Don had remembered more clearly than anything was the dark garage that held no natural light and therefore had no need of prisms. In those months Charlie had not once turned his attention to his cherished prisms and that had spoken more of his confusion and pain than anything else Don could have seen. That Charlie had a prism here was somehow comforting.
It was several moments before Don registered that the room had gone quiet, the sound of chalk having stopped. He glanced around the room to find Charlie poised in mid-step, having obviously intended to start on a fresh chalkboard. “Don. Have you been here long? You should have said something.”
He shrugged, offering Charlie a smile as he inclined his head toward the prism. “Is that - ?”
“Huh?” Charlie turned, following his gaze. “Oh! No, no, but it looks nearly identical, doesn’t it? No, that one’s… well, it’s somewhere else.”
“The solarium?”
Charlie took a breath, shaking his head. “Uh, my room actually, in my window. The – the others are still there, though.”
“Right, right.” For some reason it made him impossibly happy that Charlie had even kept it, that he had it in his window, in a special place. “Hey, you done here? I heard dad was making something special for dinner tonight.” Though Don had the feeling that Charlie hadn’t nearly been done, he put his chalk down and followed as Don turned and left the room. “But, you know, if they’d had that website thinkgeek.com back in those days I doubt I would have ever gotten you that prism.”
“Are you implying that I’m a geek?” Charlie’s attempt at sounding annoyed was ruined by the smirk he couldn’t quite keep off his face.
“Yes, Charlie, I believe I am.”
-The End-
Notes: I believe the prism is shown in the first episode and I can’t actual recall it being seen after that, but that’s what really sparked this idea. The solarium idea was from... I forget the ep, but Charlie muttered something about doing his best work in the solarium. And, thinkgeek.com - well, the Pi t-shirt Charlie wears is on that website and my little mind told me, "Wouldn't that be something Don would get for him?" Maybe that was just me. ^^;;
Characters: Charlie, Don, Alan, Alan’s wife (name??) (no pairings)
Rating/Category: G
Word Count: 1,615
Spoilers: none really
Summary: The trouble with Charlie; looking back
Notes/Warnings: I decided to write another one since no one else was. It’s a cute idea I had, pure fluff really.
The Perfect Gift
by Ami-chan aka princessacadra
When Don stepped into Charlie’s work area at CalSci for the very first time there were several things that he noted immediately. One of them was that it wasn’t nearly as cluttered as he’d imagined it would be, the second was that Charlie was hard at work on whatever it was he had running through his head at that moment, and the third was the prism hanging in the window, refracting light and color across the room. The last gave him pause and he leaned against the wall just listening to the clack of chalk and Charlie’s occasional mumbling.
--Flashback--
It was always difficult getting Charlie presents of any kind. For his birthday their parents agonized over what to get him, what Charlie might like. He was eight, but Charlie didn’t like most eight-year-old type toys. He wasn’t particularly interested in action figures, he was only aware of the technical aspects of sports though he had liked the small basketball hoop he had gotten – Don thought that was because it was small enough that he could actually make it in the hoop, unlike the one in the driveway. In fact, Charlie favorite thing was his chalkboard, but there were only so many pieces of chalk and other writing implements that they could get him.
They’d gotten Charlie a train set once, but after he’d figured out its acceleration rate he hadn’t been interested in it anymore. All it did was go in circles, after all. He was entirely too logical and practical in this thinking, having little, well, creativity. They all tried, but it was hard to understand his way of thinking, though Don liked to believe he was getting better at predicting what Charlie would like and how he would respond to things. It was his very own project, the study of Charlie.
That was one of the reasons that Don was being dragged along with his mom to go gift-shopping for Charlie, because of his expertise on his brother’s likes and dislikes. She was picking up science sets, math-related books, anything that looked like something her youngest might actually want. There had to be at least eight things for the eight days of Chanukah, though often times they got more depending on how expensive those items were.
“What about this?” His mother held up what appeared to be a chemistry set of some sort.
“He might use it. For all of five minutes.”
She heaved a sigh and set it back. “You’re right, of course. Why is he so difficult to buy for?”
“Because he’s Charlie.” That was the best explanation Don could come up with. There wasn’t anyone else like Charlie, which could be annoying at times, but even so Charlie was still his brother. After hours of shopping, however, Don’s patience was beginning to wear thin. He was nearly ready to suggest that they just get things he would like and then he would have double the presents since Charlie wouldn’t want them anyway, when he saw it.
“Mom!”
“What is it, honey?” she inquired in a distracted manner and Don was just excited enough to allow her endearment, spoken in public no less, pass.
“Look!” He held up the glass prism from its little suction cup wire for her to see. Mom was not nearly as impressed or excited as Don was.
“For Charlie?”
Don was nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, for Charlie.” Though she was skeptical, she dutifully took the prism from his hand and added it to the other assortment of things that Charlie maybe, possibly would like.
By the time Chanukah rolled around Don had nearly forgotten about the gifts he had helped pick out for his little brother and, really, he was more concerned about opening his own gifts. They each got two small presents on the first day and Don was looking over his – baseball cards and more baseball cards – when he heard his mother’s worried tone. “Charlie?”
That was when Don looked up to find Charlie, his first present – a puzzle device, the kind Charlie always loved – abandoned while Charlie stared with fixed fascination at the second gift, the prism Don had picked out for him. With a smile Don plopped down beside his brother, reaching out to touch the hand holding the prism and moving it ever so slightly to get Charlie’s attention. “You see that?”
Charlie was nodding, his eyes never wavering.
“It looks better in real light,” he assured Charlie and Charlie nodded again, enthralled.
The next day Don found Charlie in the solarium, his little chalkboard in the center of the room along with a pile of notebooks and pencils because the chalkboard would only hold so much information and Charlie hated to erase it when he was in the middle of something. The prism was attached to one of the windows, casting light and colors across the room and most of the day Charlie just sat, watching the patterns silently. When Don went back to check on Charlie his brother had gone from immobile to a blur of activity, scribbling furiously in one of his numerous notebooks. Occasionally Charlie wandered here or there, looking at the lights, at the angles and seeing things that Don could only guess at.
Charlie had to be dragged from the solarium to light the menorah later and he showed only polite and vague interest in the presents he received. Even with the sun down Charlie was determined to return to whatever it was he was working on and after Charlie had been sent to bed, hours into the night, Don heard the unmistakable sound of Charlie’s bedroom door opening and shutting. The days passed like that, Charlie in the solarium calculating problems a child his age shouldn’t see.
It was the day before they went back to school that Charlie snapped out of his “math episode”, as they had taken to calling them. Mom ventured into the solarium ready to drag Charlie out of the room once more to make him eat and stay hydrated, when Charlie’s eyes cleared and he actually looked at her and smiled. “Look, look,” he said breathlessly, handing her what was apparently the last page of his great work. She’d studied it carefully even though Don knew she had no more idea what it meant that he did. But she smiled and it made Charlie beam with happiness.
“Wonderful, Charlie. You’ve figured it out perfectly.”
“It’s the light, the sun, the way it bends,” and Charlie was rambling about numbers and lights and colors and angles and they could only nod in agreement. Not that Charlie ever seemed to notice their lack of understanding or even the fact that their interest was partly feigned. All Charlie saw was how things worked, how they fit together based on factors they couldn’t comprehend and all they saw was a child delighted by what anyone else would have considered simply the beautiful play of light from a prism.
Only Charlie.
Then Charlie had launched himself at Don, hugging him as only he could, all innocence and pure energy, thanking him for the gift, somehow knowing that Don had picked it out for him.
Prisms became a regular gift for Charlie after that, nearly habit, and year after year more strings of prisms began to decorate the solarium, just for Charlie’s amusement. At times Don would find him in there, simply lost in some pattern invisible to his eye, just staring. Once Charlie told him that the prisms helped him to order his thoughts, that the play of light, so simple in his mind, showed him other patterns and pathways to more complex ideas. Don wasn’t sure how it all worked and never bothered to ask, but it had always been something he’d come to associate with Charlie.
--End Flashback--
When he’d returned home after his long absence the one thing Don had remembered more clearly than anything was the dark garage that held no natural light and therefore had no need of prisms. In those months Charlie had not once turned his attention to his cherished prisms and that had spoken more of his confusion and pain than anything else Don could have seen. That Charlie had a prism here was somehow comforting.
It was several moments before Don registered that the room had gone quiet, the sound of chalk having stopped. He glanced around the room to find Charlie poised in mid-step, having obviously intended to start on a fresh chalkboard. “Don. Have you been here long? You should have said something.”
He shrugged, offering Charlie a smile as he inclined his head toward the prism. “Is that - ?”
“Huh?” Charlie turned, following his gaze. “Oh! No, no, but it looks nearly identical, doesn’t it? No, that one’s… well, it’s somewhere else.”
“The solarium?”
Charlie took a breath, shaking his head. “Uh, my room actually, in my window. The – the others are still there, though.”
“Right, right.” For some reason it made him impossibly happy that Charlie had even kept it, that he had it in his window, in a special place. “Hey, you done here? I heard dad was making something special for dinner tonight.” Though Don had the feeling that Charlie hadn’t nearly been done, he put his chalk down and followed as Don turned and left the room. “But, you know, if they’d had that website thinkgeek.com back in those days I doubt I would have ever gotten you that prism.”
“Are you implying that I’m a geek?” Charlie’s attempt at sounding annoyed was ruined by the smirk he couldn’t quite keep off his face.
“Yes, Charlie, I believe I am.”
-The End-
Notes: I believe the prism is shown in the first episode and I can’t actual recall it being seen after that, but that’s what really sparked this idea. The solarium idea was from... I forget the ep, but Charlie muttered something about doing his best work in the solarium. And, thinkgeek.com - well, the Pi t-shirt Charlie wears is on that website and my little mind told me, "Wouldn't that be something Don would get for him?" Maybe that was just me. ^^;;
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