The Derivative  Chapter 4: Talk

Remember, it’s not a competition

me, quietly whispering to the ao3 page of an author who doesn’t even know I exist: I am obsessed with you

running a tumblr blog is really just being like I’ve become obsessed with this new thing and now I’m going to make it everyone else’s problem

The Derivative  Chapter 13: I Know

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 12 

“Well I didn’t exactly have a lot of options” I argued, hopping out of the car. 

“Maybe not but that sounds like an odd one for a snack” Alan stated getting out and grabbing the grocery bag in the back seat. 

“Ugh you sound like my mother” I grumbled as we headed toward the house. 

“Greetings friends” we turned at the call to see Larry walking up the drive. 

“Oh Larry what brings you here?” Alan greeted. 

“Well I was looking for Charles with the intention of spurring him into action on some of the math he promised me” the man explained. 

“Hey Larry you haven’t heard anything about my acceptance at CalSci yet have you?” I asked as we headed to the front door. 

“I’m afraid not but rest assured me and your uncle are keeping our ears to the metaphorical ground for any word from the admission board” Larry replied. 

I let off groan “I hate waiting” 

“Don’t worry, I'm sure they’ll accept you. You’re a great student” Alan assured me. 

“Well who knows I mean the school does get similar applications from young gifted applicants each year so” the physicist ended his statement with a shrug. 

I let out a breath still very anxious about the whole thing “thank you for that Larry” Gramps muttered with an annoyed edge as he opened the front door. “Hey Charlie” 

We headed into the house to see Charlie sitting at the table looking over some papers with a woman. “Hey, this is officer Morris of the California Highway patrol” the professor introduced the woman who smiled. Then he gestured to us “this is my father, my niece, and Dr. Fleinhardt” 

“Oh, please don’t tell me you got another speeding ticket?” Alan joked. 

“Actually your son’s helping me with an accident investigation” Officer Morris explained rising from her seat to shake my grandfather’s hand and then Larry’s, then mine “we’re trying to figure out what caused it.” 

“I didn’t know you were consulting for the CHP. Are you?” Alan inquired. 

“Don’s case” Charlie clarified. 

“Oh so this is why he ditched me here instead of taking me to the movies on his day off like he promised” I spoke with a slight edging looking at the documents laid out on the table. 

“Yeah? What sort of accident involved the FBI?” Larry questioned. 

“Prison bus crash” Morris informed. 

“The one I saw on the news.” Gramps inferred. “The bus with the escaped convicts? Don is working on that, huh?” Alan muttered the last bit as he sat down the grocery bag. 

“Yeah. Why?” Charlie questioned most likely sensing the same change in Alan’s demeanor as I had. 

“Oh nothing” Alan brushed the matter off as Larry took a seat at the table “it’s just that your brother was working on fugitive recovery once for a while, uh, anyway” he shook his head. 

“Appears to be basic Newtonian mechanics” Larry observed “the stuff of first-year engineering students. Now why are these elementary equations so captured your imagination?” 

“Well, the confluence of so many unrelated factors coming together at a given point in time” Charlie explained “it’s actually quite a fascinating approach to Bayesian inference as applied to the analysis of time series data.” 

“Yeah well as far as I know anytime an accident happens it’s because somebody made a mistake” Alan declared. “Am I right?” 

“Actually most car crashes happen because of one overestimating their own ability, to make a turn or get through a light. Willing choices that’s why the common public word accident is a misnomer and reports call them crashes.” I informed absently then paused as all the adults’ eyes shifted to me “I read it once” I shrugged. 

“This coming from the girl who doesn’t even have a license” Alan pointed out and I shot him a glare.  

“Either way that’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Morris spoke up “whether there was a mistake and what it was” 

“The answer’s not that simple” Charlie voiced as Alan pulled out his sandwich and went to open a beer I reached around him to grab my sandwich from the bag. “I mean, coincidences are a mathematical reality. Statistically unlikely events can and often do occur. Just look at the genesis of our planet.” 

“Well now, I agree that the factors that brought about life on earth were statistically unlikely” Larry mused “but given the vastness of the cosmos, the limitless possibilities for matter and energy. I’m with Einstein on this. There are no accidents.” 

____________

“I can understand the fascination of kinematic equations when working alongside an attractive female police officer” Larry voiced as we watched Charlie set up his little reenactment. “But, all the lawn equipment?” 

“What you said about the confluence of the cosmos triggered a thought” Charlie explained “Abby you’re sitting in the road” he muttered shoeing me away so he could set down a skateboard. I scooted over to the side of the path. 

“Ah, note to self: Never talk quantum theory again.” Larry voiced. 

“The initial velocity of the bus barely exceeds that of the flatbed.” Charlie elaborated “the gap between them closing slowly, approximately two feet per second.” he moved the wheel barrel up. 

“And then along comes the skateboard?” Larry questioned. 

“That’s right, the pick up truck” Uncle C confirmed “the pick up truck pulls along the right side of the bus” he demonstrated with the skateboard’s movement. “Its velocity is 13 miles per hour greater than that of the bus. Now at this point the gap between the bus and the flatbed truck is at least..” he paused reaching for the paper in the wheelbarrow. 

“84 feet” I supplied having seen the paper. 

“Okay, that’s ample enough room for the pickup to safely maneuver in front of the bus” Larry declared. 

“However” Charlie objected, continuing to manipulate the lawn equipment “the gap suddenly closed. The pickup veers in front of the bus forcing the bus to maneuver and hit the guardrail which causes it to torque and flip onto its side” I tilted my head as Charlie turned the wheelbarrow over. 

“How did that gap close so quickly between the bus and the flatbed?” Larry inquired. 

“Acceleration or deceleration” I voiced. 

“Precisely.” Charlie nodded “two possibilities. One, the bus greatly increased its velocity.” 

“No no no” Larry dissuaded that idea “given the mass of the bus, that’s extremely unlikely.” 

I craned my neck as I saw Don’s car pulling up to the house. “Or two, the flatbed truck reduced its speed at the critical moment, causing the pickup to veer in front of the bus.” 

“That’s it” Larry determined with the snap of his fingers “the flatbed slowed down”

“That’s right,” Charlie agreed. 

“And that doesn’t mean anything good” I muttered letting out a breath. 

“It would also mean” Larry mused. 

“A Markov chain” Charlie finished the thought. 

“Exactly” Larry muttered. 

“Gentlemen and lady” Don greeted us as he walked up “what’s all this?” he looked over the reenactment. 

“Just trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense” Charlie explained. 

“Thought that’s what you do best,” Don sighed. “What, uh, what’s the problem?” 

“Well, apparently, that seed spreader” Larry voiced. 

Don gave a confused look and Charlie quickly jumped in “t-the flatbed truck” 

“What- what about it?” Don inquired. 

“The crash wasn’t an accident” Charlie informed. “Don, it was staged.” 

“You’re sure?” Don pressed. 

“Mathematically certain” I declared Don shot me a look “it’s lawn equipment and simple math please don’t lecture me on not helping” 

Don sighed “fine later” he grumbled then turned to Charlie “think you can work up a model to show at the office?” 

“That’s an easy matter of imputing these findings into a computer simulation” Charlie explained. 

“Maybe the cute CHP lady officer can help you” I teased my uncle. 

“Cute CHP lady officer?” Don questioned turning to his brother who shot me an annoyed look. 

“It’s not like that,” Charlie objected. 

“Sure Charles, sure” Larry murmured and we all shared a laugh at the mathematician's expense. 

________________

3rd POV. 

“All these different events and factors from the initial velocity of the bus to its final torque” Charlie explained to Don and Agent Cooper “all of these create what’s called a Markov Chain.” 

“What kind of Chain?” Cooper questioned. 

“Markov. A sequence of random values where the probabilities at any given time depend on the values at a previous time.” Charlie attempted to elaborate “the controlling factor in a Markov chain is called the transitional probability. Now in this case the bus reaches a certain point in the road just as the truck blocks the lane, just as the pickup cuts off the bus.” the professor gestured to his diagram. 

“Which tells you it wasn't an accident?” Don asked with minor confusion. 

“Bayesian statistics and the Chapman-Kolmogorov equation tell me that.” Charlie clarified. 

“Are you sure you’re his brother?” Billy joked to Don. 

“Yeah, you think he’s freaky smart you should meet my kid” Don replied off handedly focusing on Charlie and missing the double take Cooper gave him. 

“If the flatbed truck had maintained its initial velocity, well then the pickup should have enough space to roam freely past the bus safely.” Charlie continued “but it didn’t.” he pressed a button going to the next image “the truck slowed down just as the right moment just as the pickup timed its move, forcing the bus to veer violently and overturn.” 

“So the pickup driver and the flatbed guy are in on it,” Don deduced. 

“Only the gardener’s missing” Cooper muttered. 

“Let’s go find that truck driver” Don declared getting up and Billy following after him. “Good job Charlie thanks” 

Don and Cooper exited the meeting room and headed through the bullpen. “So uh that comment about you having a kid that serious?” Billy asked as they paused by Don’s desk so he could grab his jacket. 

Don let off a breath, his brain somehow just realizing that his former partner would have no way of knowing about Abby appearing in Don’s life a little less than a year ago. “Uh yeah um kind of a long story but uh you remember that girl from college I mentioned Janice Calvin?” Don asked as they headed toward the elevator. 

“Yeah the one left you a note and went back home?” Cooper recalled. 

“Yeah, well, turns out she was pregnant. And what will be a year ago soon I got this knock on my door from a social worker telling me she died and left a kid behind. And my name’s on the birth certificate” Don explained. 

Cooper let off a breath “that’s crazy man.” 

“You’re telling me” Don muttered as they entered the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. “Still it’s been good having her in my life you know? Her name’s Abby and she just tested out of highschool as a sophomore applied to college for next semester” 

“Really?” Cooper nodded then a slight smirk came to his features “so out of all these geniuses in your family how the heck did you end up like this?” 

“Ah” Don scoffed, giving his friend a shove as the doors opened and they headed out chuckling. 

__________

Abby POV. 

“Why am I here?” I muttered in annoyance. 

“Because I find this interesting,” Alan whispered back. 

“That explains why you’re here, not why I am” I grumbled turning the page of my book. 

“Well, if you’d quiet down you might just learn something” Alan suggested. I sighed and looked up at Uncle Charlie who was standing in front of a black baord that read “Math for Non-Mathematicians''

“Most people believe that they can trust their instincts” Uncle C explained “however, math suggests that our instincts aren’t always correct” he bent down and picked up a couple big white boards and big red X’s off the ground. “We’re gonna play a little game.” he declared, setting out the white cards on stands “I want you all to pretend that we’re on a game show, and I’m your cheesy game show host. And behind one of these cards is a brand new automobile.” he added a joking deepness to his voice at that last line that elicited some laughs from the audience of the class “and behind the other two are goats. Yeah, goats.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to my story.”I’m going to need a volunteer” I glanced up making sure my uncle wasn’t thinking of choosing me as a couple hands went up “come on, more of you than that. Come on.” he encouraged, receiving a couple laughs in response “Julie” he finally selected. “Why don’t you pick one of these cards? Remembering of course the object is to win the car, not the goat.” 

“I’ll take the one in the middle” Julie chose. 

“She takes the middle card” Charlie declared, sticking an X to the card. “And what are the chances that that card is the winning card?” 

“One in three” Julie answered. 

“Three choices, one car. Right?” Charlie clarified “one in three, it’s simple enough, right? Now, here’s where the game’s gonna take a turn. I’m going to reveal to you one of the cards that you did not choose” he reached to the card on the right and flipped it around to reveal a goat “So, we have two cards yet to be revealed. Now, knowing what you know, do you want to switch your choice? Or more importantly for the purposes of this class, does it matter? Will switching your choice improve your chances of winning?” 

“Yes switch it” I muttered under my breath going back to my book. Alan gave me a side look. 

“Well no. because now, two cards it’s 50/50, right?” Julie replied to the teacher. 

“How many people agree with her?” Charlie asked. 

“Don’t raise your hand” I mumbled sarcastically, turning the page of my book. Inevitable people did though most of the class in fact Alan looked around surprised. 

“That’s what your instinct tells you, but you’d be wrong.” Charlie explained. “Switching your cards at this point actually doubles your chances of winning the car.” 

“How?” Julie questioned. 

“Well, since we started out with two goats,” Charlie explained “it’s more likely that your first choice was a goat. What are the odds of choosing the goats?”

“Two out of three” Julie answered. 

“Right. So it’s more likely that this is a goat, less likely that it’s a car” the professor gestured to the center card “and it’s more likely that this card is a car” he pointed to the card on the left. “See switching your choice gives you a two-out-of-three chance of winning the car, rather than the one-out-of-three chance that we all began with.” he revealed the left card as the car to make his point. “Vroom vroom” he joked making the class chuckle. “You won a car, Julie. Congratulations.'' Then Uncle Charlie paused his eyes drifting to the back of the room before he checked his watch. “I think. Yeah, yeah, we’re out of time.” I looked back to see Don standing in the back of the room with another man who I could assume was another agent. “So uh, go home make some of these for yourselves. Put together some reasonable “n” samples, and uh.. Yeah see what happens. I’ll see you all next week. thanks.” 

The students began to disperse and Alan followed my line of sight to Don and the other agent. He got up and I followed him back to the two men. “Hey Dad, what are you two doing here?” 

“Oh I like coming whenever Charlie gives one of these math-for-dummies lectures. It’s the only time I actually understand what he’s talking about” Gramps explained “plus this one needed to get out of the house I couldn’t stand anymore anxious pacing about this acceptance letter” 

“Hey I wasn’t pacing” I objected adjusting my backpack on my shoulders “much” 

“This is Billy Cooper” Don introduced the man next to him. “He’s an agent I work with.” 

“Hi” Alan greeted him with a hand shake “we’ve met before, haven’t we?” 

“oh, yeah.” Don murmured “I couldn’t remember” 

“You worked a case with Don out here once?” Alan guessed. 

“Back in the day, yes, sir” Agent Cooper confirmed and glanced between me and my Grandfather. 

“Donnie, can I talk to you for a minute?” Alan requested. 

“Yeah, sure.” Don agreed and looked to Billy “just give me a second” him and Alan shuffled out of the room. 

Agent Cooper turned to me “you must be Abby then” he inquired and I nodded “uh so your uh old man mentioned that you were some kind of genius like your Uncle” he gestured vaguely to where Charlie was packing up his stuff from class. 

“Um yeah I have a decent IQ and an Advanced Eidetic Memory” I explained shifting on my feet. 

“What’s that mean?” the agent asked. 

“I have near perfect visual memory recall especially when I read” I explained gesturing to the book in my hand. 

“Cool” Cooper nodded and glanced out the doorway to where Don and Alan were still talking. 

“So you work with my dad?” I inquired blinking as the last word came out of my mouth easier than I thought. 

“Yup” Cooper smiled “me and Don actually used to be partners back in the day when he worked fugitive recovery. Made a great team” 

I smiled slightly “that’s cool” 

“Hey agent Cooper” Charlie cut in as he came over to greet the agent. 

________ 3rd POV. 

Don walked with his father out of the room and into the courtyard outside. “Um- wh-what are you doing? What’s going on?” Alan asked, turning to Don once they were out of earshot. 

“What are you talking about?” Don asked, confused. 

“Well, I- I haven’t seen you for days. Not since you dropped Abby off.” Alan pointed out. 

“I’m working,” Don explained. 

“Yeah, I know, Charlie told me.” Alan informed “Are you going back to manhunting now?” 

“Oh, I see. Dad, come on” Don sighed in annoyance. “Don’t. This is one case.” 

“I seem to recall your saying that about only one case once before,” Alan pointed out, “but, if you remember, they were not good days for you, or for me. I mean, we didn’t hear from you for weeks. We didn’t even know where the hell you were.” 

“Dad-” Don tried to interject but failed. 

“You do realize that uh, chasing after someone you could be running away from yourself at the same time” Alan stated. “And now you’re a father Donnie, you have a daughter in there that relies on you and you have a responsibility to her. Have you even talked to her the last couple days?” 

“Yes dad, of course I have'' Don finally interjected agitated. Then he sighed “contrary to what you might think I don’t plan to abandon her” 

Before Alan could respond to that statement or before Don could process the emotions it set forth Charlie was joining them with Abby and Billy right behind him. Don looked at Abby for a moment as Charlie greeted them and asked Alan about his lecture. 

Sometimes it was easy for him to forget she was a kid with how her brain worked and how stubbornly independent she could be. However, with her duct taped and sharpied shoes and ratty backpack she wouldn’t let him buy her replacements for, fading freckles and various superhero and tv show related t-shirts. She really was every bit the teenager her age dictated. A teenager who Don knew needed her father. 

____________

“Hey” Don called walking up as Coop was loading up his car “So you’re out of here?” 

“Heading to Phoenix.” Billy sighed “meth tweaker I been chasing.” 

“No chance we could get you to stick around?” Don asked helping him with the bags “maybe put in for a position around here?” 

“What, and settle down?” Billy chuckled. 

“Hey, it’s not bad Coop, I gotta tell you.” Don advised leaning on the car. 

“You don’t miss it?” Cooper inquired. 

“No. Not really, no” Don shook his head. 

“The rush you get when you’re hauling his ass in,” Coop tempted “your fugitive’s a couple hours ahead of you and you’re closing ground.” 

“Alright, maybe a little,” Don conceded. “Hey, but not being in touch with my family, not being able to talk to anybody, I don’t miss that.” he took a deep breath “I don’t know, I think LA’s good for me.” 

“Well” Coop sighed closing his trunk “plus you’re a dad now” 

Don chuckled “yeah there’s that too” 

“Listen that kid’s lucky to have you.” Billy told him “and if she’s anything like her old man she got a good future ahead of her” 

“Thanks man” Don sighed as the two shook hands walking back toward the drivers side of the car “keep your head down, huh?” 

“I’ll do that,” Billy nodded, getting in his car to leave. 

___________

“You do realize watching out the window isn’t going to make him get here any sooner right?” Alan voiced. 

Abby sighed and slid down to sit on the couch. “What’s taking so long,” she whined. 

“Relax kid,” Don advised, taking a sip of his beer. “He’ll get here soon” 

“Easy for you to say” Abby grumbled. Just then the door of the house opened and the trio sitting in the living room turned as Charlie walked in. 

Abby bounced to her feet. “Do you have it? Do you have it?” she asked eagerly. 

“Hello to you too” Charlie mumbled earning him a glare from his niece. “It’s right here” he held up the letter from the schools admissions office. 

Abby took the letter and looked it over like it was some rare artifact. She let off a slow breath. “You want me to open it?” Don asked after a moment. 

“No,” Abby objected then took a deep breath and tore the envelope open pulling out the paper inside. 

The three men watched as her eyes scanned over it abnormally fast for the average person. Then another second before a large smile spread over her face. 

“I got in” she whispered almost inaudibly then began to repeat it louder jumping up and down in joy “I got in! I got in! I got in!” she stopped and whisked over to where Don was sitting “Dad! Dad! Dad! Look! I even got a scholarship!” 

“I can see that” Don murmured looking at the paper that was thrust into his hand “nice job kid” 

“We knew you could do it,'' Alan encouraged with a smile. 

“I’m going to go call Amita and tell her” Abby declared “this is awesome!” with that she ran from the room. 

“Donnie, uh,” Alan spoke up after a moment “you are aware she just called you dad right? Without uh any snarky backdrop or anything” 

Don smiled lightly eyes still on the acceptance letter “yeah I know” 

Chapter 14 -> 

I wanna be that CEO that pays their employees 70K a year like that white guy I be seeing all over the Internet. I can’t remember his name.

I’m not gonna be like Jeff Bezos but I do wanna be a multimillionaire 😂😂😂

The Derivative Chapter 15: Seventeen

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 14

I came trudging into my uncle's office and threw my backpack down in his chair. The three men within the office gave me a concerned look. “Trouble adapting to college life?” Charlie inquired.

I let off a breath leaning on the desk “college students are better but no less annoying than high schoolers” I declared “I just talked to a girl in one of my classes who asked and I quote ‘are you visiting on a high school field trip?’” I mocked the girl's squawky voice.

Don chuckled slightly “well you are sixteen. Not a lot of kids your age running around these halls”

“She sees me every other day in our class. She borrowed my pencil once” I exclaimed indignantly.

“Ah it seems this fair student was wrapped in her own world to the point of tuning the rest out” Larry declared.

“Yeah or she’s just an asshole” I muttered then glanced at the computer screen on the desk “is that some kind of code?”

“Yes it’s a rolling code for a car remote” Charlie explained, holding up the remote in question in his hand. “It’s actually part of a kidnapping case”

“Kidnapping?” I questioned.

Don sighed and shot his brother a look “yeah it’s a case we’re working.”

I nodded, resisting the urge to ask if I could help. Just then my phone alarm went off. “I have class” I sighed, turning off the alarm and grabbing my backpack.

“I’ll walk with you,” Don offered. I nodded and waved farewell to Charlie and Larry as we exited the office. We only got a couple feet from the door before Don was talking again “so your birthday is this weekend.”

“What? Really? I had no idea” I replied sarcastically.

Don scoffed “I was just wondering if you wanted to do anything? I mean just me and you could hangout or we could have a barbecue at the house with everybody. Whatever you want” he shrugged.

“Uh yeah a barbecue would be cool” I murmured the grip on my backpack tightening a bit.

“You sure?” Don asked. I glanced over to see him looking at me with mild concern in his features.

“Yeah fine” I assured him as we reached the door to my classroom “it’s just…” I hesitated “don’t worry about it it's nothing”

“Okay” Don nodded “have fun on your field trip” he teased.

“Ha ha very funny” I muttered a small smile on his face. He turned to leave and I ducked into the classroom. There was a sinking feeling in my gut and another feeling that I couldn’t quite place and didn’t really like.

________________

3rd POV.

“And no, no contact, in almost seven hours” Don murmured looking at the board set up in the war room. “What the hell are they after?”

“I still think Erica Logan has to be the key” Megan declared standing up as Don began to pace the room. “This kind of radical shift in behavior? There has to be some sort of trigger.”

“Trigger?” David questioned from his seat “like what?”

“I can tell you what a textbook would say,” Megan explained. “Statistically, it’s things like a near-death experience. A person can exhibit an extreme shift in behavior if they survived a plane crash. Another could be a person who’s told they only have a month to live, may act on fantasies of an alter ego.”

“Doesn’t fit, though in this case” Colby objected. “The autopsy would have flagged that.”

“All right, so what else?” Don inquired leaning on the table.

“Uh, parental instinct” Megan offered “the perception of a serious threat to a child.”

“That also doesn’t fit” Colby spoke up again “I mean, her father said she doesn’t have kids, right?”

Don thought about his talk with the man for a second and the pictures in the house realization hitting him “but there was a brother, right?” he asked, gesturing to David who had also been there for the interview “the old man said she practically raised him.”

“Yeah,” David nodded in agreement, sitting up in his seat.

“A younger sibling could be the trigger, if they had developed that kind of relationship” Megan agreed.

“Younger brothers can definitely be a trigger, trust me on that one” Don stated with an edge of humor before going back to business mode turning to David “why don’t you go talk to the old man see if you can get an address on the son.” the agent nodded and started grabbing his things “I mean, I want to get everything we can on this kid, right?”

Colby grabbed his things and followed David out of the room. When it was just them Megan turned to Don. “Speaking of parental instincts, how's that daughter of yours doing?”

“Abby? She’s fine” Don shrugged.

“Really? I mean it can’t be easy being a sixteen year old kid in college” Megan voiced.

Don scoffed “she complains less about it than she did about high school so” he shrugged.

“Well since she’s in a house full of men. Why don’t you tell her if she ever needs a woman’s advice she can have my number” Megan offered.

“Thanks” Don smiled at his partner before she turned and left. Don shifted some files and thought a bit to himself. He’d never thought about it before but Abby was constantly surrounded by guys. The only female influence in her life right now that he could think of was Amita. Was that why she had been so weird about the barbecue?

Don doubted it. Maybe he was just coming to weird conclusions. Maybe the barbecue wasn’t even an issue and she was just preoccupied with the class she was about to walk into when he asked. No, she had a look on her face that told him she wasn’t happy about something. He just had no idea what and now he had to figure it out.

As he turned to leave the board caught his attention again. Parental instincts could change behavior. He thought that was a bit of an understatement.

_______________

Abby POV.

“Oh come on Charlie it couldn’t have been that bad.” Alan objected from the kitchen as the mathematician sulked at the dining room table.

“Actually, I truly can’t explain how awful it was,” Charlie muttered as Alan came out and sat a mug of hot tea down in front of his son and two plates of cake, one for him and one for me.

“Oh, I don’t understand it.” Gramps grumbled “You and Amita. You always got along so well.”

Charlie shrugged “I’m just as confused as you are”

“Yeah well, maybe it’ll be better next time, hmm?” Alan suggested as I just ate my cake and read quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s going to be a next time in the future” Uncle C sighed as my father entered the house through the front door.

“No, no, you do not give up.” Alan objected. “You never give up”

“Who’s giving up what?” Don inquired.

“Charlie. He blew his first date with Amita” Gramps informed.

“And he’s being very pouty about it,” I added, earning me a small glare from my uncle.

“I wouldn’t say that I- I blew it, Dad or that I’m pouting” the professor objected. “I mean that’s…” he trailed off as Alan gave him a look “yeah, maybe I blew it.”

“And are pouty” I chimed in and got another half hearted glare.

“Wait, what happened, buddy?” Don asked, shedding his coat.

“It’s just we found out that we really don’t have much to talk about outside math” Charlie explained as Gramps got to his feet.

“And you can’t talk about math because?” I questioned.

“Well it’s our work and we want to talk about more than just work” Charlie muttered.

“Oh, man.” Don sighed “Yeah, I know about that. Maybe it’s an Eppes thing you know? When Terry and I started dating, the first thing we said was we weren’t going to talk about work, right? You know, not a word.”

“Don’t say it’s an Eppes thing cuz that curses me too” I complained.

“Hey last I checked your last name was still Calvin so you get exempt” Don pointed out.

“So, how’d you work it out?” Alan inquired, handing his eldest the beer he had just retrieved from the kitchen. “With Terry?’

“Well, I mean, she’s back with her ex but..” Don murmured.

“That’s really very encouraging,” Charlie grumbled sarcastically.

“I didn't mean it like that” Don objected with a slight chuckle “I’m sorry. It’s different with you guys. You’ll work it out.” Charlie just let off a breath. “Meanwhile, I’m hitting a wall with this case.”

“You haven’t found them yet?” Charlie inquired.

“Found who?” Alan asked as Don headed back into the foyer to grab his file off the table.

“A mother and her eight year old daughter, kidnapped.” Don informed heading into the living room with his file.

“That’s horrible,” Alan declared.

“This is the same case with the car key code thing?” I asked.

“Yeah” Charlie replied with a nod as the three of us stood to follow Don into the living room. I brought my book and slice of cake with me.

“Who took them?” Gramps questioned.

“I don’t know yet” Don explained sitting on the couch “I mean, we got this one suspect who’s a bookie, and we think there’s some connection, but we got these files off his computer, and they’re impossible to analyze”

“What are you looking for in here?” Charlie questioned, going to look over the file Don offered him as I sat on the couch next to my father. .

“Well, I mean, the people who financed the operation.” Don explained “this guy’s been running bets through a website called Statswire that dead-ends at a URL in China. And with all the money he’s pulling in and paying out, we can’t tell the difference between the backer and bettors.”

“Well these abbreviations may be names and dates” Uncle C suggested looking the file over “but the numbers in this column here 35-17-11” he muttered as Gramps went to look over his shoulder. “23-17-5, 24-12-3 ½? Yeah I’m assuming that they’re part of some sort of odds making, but they just appear to be at random and they can’t be.”

“You’re right. They’re not random” Alan voiced as I shifted my cake away from my thieving father.

“What are you talking about?” Don inquired.

“Where’s that paper?” Alan muttered standing up and going over to a stack of newspapers “this weekend’s football scores.” he stated grabbing the paper he was looking for and coming back over as we all huddled over the file to look. “Let me see. 35-17-11 here.” he pointed to the newspaper “the Packers beat the Vikings 35-17, and the spread was 11”

“Whoa,” Don murmured.

“Nice catch Gramps” I said with a slight smirk.

“Thank you. 23-17-5. That here, Niners in San Diego, five-point spread, right?” Alan found another “24 to 12 was the Jaguars over the Colts. Huh?”

“Let me see that” Don took the paper and looked it over.

“3 ½ was a ridiculous spread” Gramps commented “I took the Jaguars and made a hundred bucks”

“What, you have a bookie?” Don questioned his father in surprise.

“Busted,” I murmured.

“Should I have a lawyer present?” Alan replied.

“No, I’ll let you slide.” Don murmured looking back over the paper. As I chuckled lightly.

“Wait a minute. If this column is the point spread, I can use it to calculate the ratio of winners to losers” Charlie explained “and potentially trace the payouts and the money flow.”

“Yay teamwork” I murmured.

“Says the girl who sat there eating cake the entire time” Don pointed out. I just shrugged with a smirk.

_________________

3rd POV.

Don got out of his car with a sigh. He was relieved that she had at least thought to text him this time. As he made his way across the grass to his daughter she glanced up at him before her eyes became fixated on the ground.

He sat down next to her in front of the head stone. After a moment of silence he finally spoke “what’s wrong?”

“Why do you assume something’s wrong?” Abby replied, still not looking up at him and she fiddled with her blinders in her hand.

“Because I know you well enough now to know when something’s bothering you” he replied softly. Abby shifted but didn’t speak. “You know if you don’t want to have a party or something for your birthday that’s fine. It’s okay if you don’t even want to celebrate it but I’d like to know why” he explained.

“It’s not that I don’t want to celebrate it” Abby objected. “It’s just-” she took a shaky breath “I suddenly have people to celebrate with and I’ve never had that before because-” she cut off.

“Because what?” Don encouraged.

She took another deep breath “last year we sat here and I told you how much I love and miss my mom now I’m sitting here and- and I’m just mad at her. I’m mad because she didn’t tell you about me. Didn’t let us meet sooner because I spent nearly sixteen years of my life not knowing you, or Grandpa, or Uncle C and because I want to have that stupid barbecue with you guys and I wish I could have had that sooner but-” Abby cut off again and tears rolled down her cheek. “I’m never going to see her again and all I am is mad at her”

Don wrapped a gentle arm around Abby pulling her closer. “Listen Abby, the last year of my life spent with you has been an incredible time. We’ve gotten to know each other and despite some preconceived notions I haven’t managed to screw up being a dad too bad. Right?” Abby scoffed at the last statement, sniffing back her tears. “That said I was a very different person years ago when I met your mother. And the truth is I don’t know if I could have been the father I would have wanted to be to you all those years ago. Heck I’m not even sure I’m the father I want for you right now.” he bit his lip pausing before he continued “not having you in my life all these years… it hurt and when I found out honestly I was mad too but- but I know your mother loved you Abbs and she only did what she did. She only kept this secret because she loved you and she thought it was the best for you.”

“I know,” Abby sighed.

“And now we do have each other and the rest of my crazy family,” he muttered, making her laugh a little. “It’s me and you kid and I’m not going anywhere”

“Thanks dad” she murmured sniffing back tears “but I’m still mad”

“I know,” Don murmured, pulling Abby into a hug “but I’m sure you’ve been mad at your mom before. She can take it and one day you’ll figure out how to forgive her, trust me.”

Chapter 16 ->

Can I just… talk for a moment… about how much I love how, if you know them well, words don’t have synonyms?

English, for example, is a fantastic disaster. It has so many words for things that are basically the same, and I find there’s few joys in writing like finding the right word for a sentence. Hunting down that peculiar word with particular meaning that fits in seamlessly in a structure, so the story flows on by without any bumps or leaks.

Like how a shout is typically about volume, while a yell carries an angry edge and a holler carries a mocking one. A scream has shrillness, a roar has ferocity, and a screech has outrage. 

This is not to say that a yell cannot be happy or a holler cannot be complimentary, or that they cannot share these traits, but they are different words with different connotations. I love choosing the right one for a sentence, not only for its meanings but for how it sounds when read aloud. (Do I want sounds that slide together, peaceful and seamless, or something that jolts the reader with its contrast? Snap!)

I love how many words for human habitats there are. I love how cottage sounds quaint and cabin sounds rustic. I love steadiness of house, the elegance of residence, the stateliness of manor, and tired stubbornness of shack. I love how a dwelling is different to a den.

And I love how none of them can really touch the possessive warmness of all the connotations of home.

Words are great.

Life Series Book 1  Chapter 1: Broken Peace

“Arbor Eliffe! You get back here young lady!” I ran at top speed as Mrs. Greenwood yelled after me brandishing her woven basket over her head. 

I laughed like a maniac as I happily got away with the pockets of my jacket stuffed with cookies. However I hadn’t quite reached the woods when a hand reached out and pulled me back by the collar of my coat. 

I turned and smiled sheepishly at my father. He didn’t say anything as Mrs. Greenwood caught up to us. “Burian she’s done it again” the woman huffed her breath making little clouds in the cold air with each exhale. “Stole the whole tray the little troublemaker” she prodded me in the stomach with her basket which made me squirm from where my small frame was still being held up by my father gripping my collar. 

“I’m sorry Lavender, I'll have Camella bake you a fresh batch if you would like” my father offered.

I looked up at the adults talking over my head. “Hey I still have ‘em here in my pocket” I explained. Reaching in I pulled out a handful of crushed cookies.

My father sighed and Mrs. Greenwood let off a noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl. “I’ll be waiting for your wife’s delivery,” the woman declared turning on her stubby legs and hobbling back to her little cottage. I stuck my tongue out at her back. 

“Arbor” my father spoke scoldingly. 

“What?!” I exclaimed “she’s a mean old woman!” 

My dad let off a breath “that’s not-” he was cut off by a tearing noise and in the next moment my butt was in the snow. I looked up to see the torn collar of my coat in my father’s hand. “Let’s go home,” he declared defeatedly. “We’ll talk there” 

I followed my father through our small village. Cradled in a little glen it was a peaceful, wintery world all to our own. It was mostly filled with Dryads like my family and Mrs. Greenwood but we had the occasional animal friend who came to say. The Beavers who lived in the nearby dam came over every once and awhile to buy some things and a family of deer had a hollow down the road. 

It was a calm place most of the time. However there were times when we would hear the bells of the queen’s carriage or the pounding feet of the security police pack and would have to go inside. Those times me and mother would wait in the back room until father came and got us. To tell us things were safe. 

When me and father got home the first thing he did was take my coat and dump the pockets into the trash bin. Which I felt was a great waste. Then we headed into the kitchen where my mother was cooking. “Darling is that you?” she called over her shoulder. 

“It’s both of us” my father replied “someone got in trouble with Lavender Greenwood again” 

“Hey she’s the one that hordes all those goodies she bakes” I argued “and I’m not the only one who steals them” 

“Yes you’re just the one who gets caught the most” my mother chuckled turning around. She came over to the pair of us “i’ll make Lavender a new batch of cookies” she looked down at me squinting her eyes “oh look you’ve got dirt on your face” she murmured raising her apron to wipe my cheeks. 

“Mom” I whined. “It’s just a little dirt from Mrs. Greenwood’s garden.” she continued to scrub at my face “why are you making her cookies anyway? She’s the mean one who’s always glaring” 

My mother sighed, apparently giving up on getting my face clean. “How about I double the recipe then and we can keep the extra batch?”

“I quite like that plan” I smiled as she stood. 

“Oh so you’re rewarding our little thief here now are you?” my father inquired of my mother with a smirk. 

“Well Mrs. Greenwood is quite the grouchy old woman” mother pointed out. I gave my father a proud smirk having said something very similar earlier. 

“What am I to do with you two?” the man of the house sighed. 

“Love us” I cheered. 

“I quite like that answer” mother laughed lightly. Then she noticed my father holding my coat. “Oh what happened to your coat?” she inquired coming over. 

“Dad ripped it” I pointed up at the man quickly. 

“Nice” he grumbled down at me. 

I shrugged “it’s the truth” 

“Alright well we’ll get this fixed up then” the woman declared taking up the torn fabric. She sat it off to the side and returned to making dinner. 

“Come here kid” my father picked me up and sat me on the table. “We have to talk about all this stealing you’ve been doing. Mrs. Greenwood’s cookies, yarn from Mr. Orchard.” 

“It’s not stealing” I objected “it’s borrowing” 

“Do you return it?” my father inquired. I didn’t answer because I knew he was right “exactly now you can’t do that alright. Your five years old Arbor you have to understand. People work hard to make or earn the things you just take.” 

“But I work hard to take them,” I explained. “I had to wait for an hour outside Mrs. Greenwood’s window for her to place the cookies out and then even longer for them to cool off.” 

I heard my mother chuckle and my father sighed “listen Arbor things have value beyond just the work you put into them. Things like the value of promises and hope and love” my father sighed and sat down. “Here I’ll tell you a story. There once was a great king of Narnia. A king by the name of Aslan back in a time when our people would dance and bloom. Green grassy hills and fields filled with colorful flowers, petals drifting on the wind. Great celebrations with singing and dancing with the fauns and centaurs and all the other creatures of the wood.” 

“That sounds incredible,” I explained. “You would dance outside in the snow?” 

“There was no snow then” the man objected “Before this eternal winter there was once the four seasons. There was spring where things would grow and bloom and we’d have rainy days to splash in puddles. Summer where it would get so hot in the day we would all relax in the shade and play music, we’d have bonfires and tell stories. Autumn when all the trees would turn beautiful colors and we would harvest the fields preparing great feasts and parties. Then when winter would come it would be a short time where we’d go sledding, build snowmen, snuggle inside with warm drinks, and give gifts to one another” 

“Wow” I exclaimed in awe imagining such a world “what happened?” 

My father’s joyous smile faltered “it was stolen away from us by the White Witch.” my father explained he glanced over at my mother who had been watching us as she cooked. Her face heavy, and rigid in concern and sadness. “She came and she stole and she destroyed, Arbor. She took our joy and our happiness she took all the magic from our beautiful world and filled it with winter and sadness and fear” 

“That’s awful” I murmured looking out the window at the white snow falling outside.  

“She stole Arbor and she destroyed this entire land do you understand now why you must never steal what belongs to another?” he asked. 

I nodded quickly “but there has to be some way to end this winter? I want to see spring, summer, autumn” 

My father smiled warmly. Then looked around as if he expected us to be overheard before scooting closer. “There is a prophecy left to us by Aslan.” he cleared his throat dramatically before continuing “it goes: When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone sits in Car Paraval in throne the evil time will be over and done.” 

“Wow” I breathed, keeping my voice low in a mirror of his “what does it mean?” 

“It means that one day two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve. In other words two human boys and two human girls will come into this land and vanquish the White Witch restoring all we once had to Narnia” 

I let off an excited giggle “they’ll bring spring back?” I questioned loudly. 

“Shh shh” my father hushed lightly “yes they will.” he sighed and reached a hand out to touch my cheek “oh and my dear Arbor I hope you get to see it” 

There was a moment of silence in the house before mother sighed “alright you two enough story time” she decreed. “Burian I need you to go pick me some more apples for the crumble” 

“I can do it mom” I exclaimed jumping from the table. “I want to go see Malic” 

“Oh alright but your coat is torn” my mother observed. 

“Here she can borrow mine, it's not that far to Malic’s orchard,” my father offered. He picked his jacket from the back of his chair and wrapped it around me. It smelled like him, warm and comforting. Like pine needles and old wood. The jacket was far too large for me made of brown leather, however it didn’t drag on the ground and I could move in it. “There that should suffice for your small journey” 

“Here” Mother handed me a basket. “Alright now it’s getting late so off to Malic’s and then straight back here for dinner” 

“Yes ma’am” I nodded in agreement as I shuffled to the door. “I love you!” 

“Love you too darling” father replied. 

“Love you” my mother also voiced kissing my forehead and then ushering me out the door. 

I ran down the snowy lane. Weaving past ice patches and giving an extra big smile to the glowering Mrs. Greenwood as I passed by her Cottage. Entering the woods I navigated among the trees with practiced ease. I reached my destination with a happy squeal. 

“Malic!” I greeted the aged apple tree. He rustled his branches in greeting. I reached up and placed a hand to his trunk leaning in. I felt the life rushing below and within his bark. I felt a weight hit my arm and looked to see an apple had fallen into my basket. “Oh thank you mother sent me to collect some for a crumble she’s making.” I explained. 

Malic reached down with his branched and I climbed up among them. I loved going high up into the air and looking out at the woods. Sitting in his branches I began to pick offered apples and tell him the grand story my father had told to me. Malic allowed me to jabber at him for a long time before I finally realized the sun was setting behind me and it was getting dark. 

“Oh I have to go, my mother said to be back quickly” I told the tree. “I’ll be back tomorrow though” I promised. Malic let me down from his branches and I began to run back toward the village waving goodbye to my friend. 

I weaved among the growing shadows of the trees, my feet crunching in the snow. I was nearly out of the woods when I was brought to a stop as a scream split the air. Fear suddenly shot through my veins as my breathing picked up. I started forward again slowly as firelight came into view. I entered the glen and dropped my basket with a gasp at the sight. People were running around madly two of the houses of the village burned and another began to catch. 

Statues that looked a lot like people I knew stood along the street in frozen images of terror. Shielding themselves from whatever was about to attack them. Standing there in the middle of it, just as frozen as the statues around her, crystal white with a gleaming scepter in her hand admiring the chaos with a look that could only be described as a chilling evil. The White Witch. 

I stood there staring as screaming was all around me just looking at her. Then someone grabbed my arm. I turned to see the panicked eyes of Mrs. Greenwood. “Arbor, come this way quickly!” she whispered urgently and dragged me off toward her house. We came inside and she pulled me over to a place on the floor. Lifting a hatch she rushed me down into the little crawl space below. “Stay here” she whispered hurriedly looking over her shoulder. 

“Where’s my mom and dad?” I asked desperately. 

“Shhh” she hushed me quickly. “Just stay quiet and stay hidden. Arbor please stay here until everything is quiet please promise me”

“I promise” I agreed, too terrified to do much else. She closed the hatch and I heard what sounded like her slapping the carpet back over it. The small space suddenly became very dark. I curled up into myself and listened.

There were screams and crashing and yelling and the roar of fire and things falling more screaming. I covered my ears and rolled on my side burying my head into my father’s jacket. Praying for peace. 

It was a long time before there was finally peace. I remained hidden in the darkness long after there was silence listening in fear. However, eventually I rose from my place on the floor and pushed on the hatch with my shaking hands. Slowly it creaked open. Climbing out I looked around. The house above was trashed, the table overturned and the door crashed in. Gentle morning light was pouring in from every crack in the walls and through the shattered glass in the window. 

Slowly I walked forward. Every step sounded far too loud in the chilling quiet. I exited the house and looked around in despair. Half the village was burned to the ground. The street was empty. I walked on down the road heading for home. Praying that it was safe hoping my parents were there waiting for me. Hoping they would be there to tell me everything was alright. The more I thought of them the faster I went until I was running around the corner to my house. 

I stopped dead in my tracks. It was gone. The entire home was ruble. Burnt to a chard crisp. I felt tears threatening my eyes as I looked around and didn’t see anyone. “Mom? Dad?” I called into the silence. There was no response “Mom?! Dad?!” I called louder. Still nothing I called again and my voice broke as my knees buckled. They were gone. 

The Derivative  Chapter 9: Wormholes

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 8 

“Apparently there’s large performance differentials between same caliber bullets from different manufacturers” Amita told Charlie walking over to him with a piece of paper with the information. 

“Based on what?” Uncle C questioned looking the paper over. 

“Lead composition, gunpowder packing” Amita shrugged, sitting back down in her seat. 

“Just what I need more variables” Charlie muttered. 

“I could help you run through the equations if you want” I offered leaning forward on the couch. 

“No you’re not helping” Charlie objected turning back to his chalkboard “if Don even found out you were in here we’d both be in trouble” 

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book. Just then there was a knock at the door to the solarium and Larry meandered in. “oh, some assistance in my brazen attack on the Lorenz invariance?” 

“No, drag coefficient models” Charlie informed. 

“Drag co- drag on what?” Larry questioned. Walking from Charlie to Amita.

“Bullets” the woman answered. 

“Bullets as in ballistic trajectories defined by the Einstein Equivalence Principle, related to the Lorenz frame?” Larry questioned over her shoulder pointedly. 

“As in, bullets that kill people” Amita replied. 

“Oh” Larry muttered with slight disgust in his voice as he turned to join me sitting on the couch. 

“There seems to be some disagreements over the sniper’s expertise” Amita explained looking to Charlie. 

“Well, I’d say the public’s decided on the question.” Larry explained “I have an aunt who lives two blocks from the first shooting. She’s afraid to go out on her front lawn now.” he gestured out the window. 

“Why don’t you tell your aunt that statistically she has a better chance of being mauled by a bear” Charlie explained exasperatedly. 

“Actually, statistics would favor the bear being mauled by my aunt but…” Larry joked and we all shared a small laugh. “This fear, this extends beyond the reach of statistics Charles.” Larry explained sinking into the couch. “No this is about arbitrary inescapable death. No, times like these, you just wind up speculating on paths not taken, jobs left undone.” 

“Larry I- I’m trying to get those equations done for you as soon as I can,” Charlie defended. 

“No, no, no.” Larry objected sitting up “at that moment, I was actually thinking of a far more prosaic legacy. Someone to carry on the Fleinhardt standard” 

We all looked at the physicist in surprise. “I didn’t know you wanted kids, Larry” Charlie voiced. 

“Well children are wormholes” Larry declared. 

“Wormholes?” Amita questioned. 

“As the only minor in the room can I protest that classification?” I asked the man who sat next to me fiddling with a small bowl “or at least get an explanation?” 

“Yeah. They’re portals into the unreachable future and unattainable past.” he somewhat clarified “No, as things stand now they exist only in the theoretical realm so..” 

“Well, I can see where you might have some trouble selling a woman on the idea of carrying you wormhole” Amita stated and we all chuckled again. 

____________

There’s isn’t anything quite as annoying as sitting at the kitchen table trying to get a look at the work your Uncle is doing for the FBI that you know you can help with but aren’t allowed to. This is where I was as I sat at the dining table Charlie working and Larry getting himself another cup of coffee. 

“You know,” the physicist spoke up from the kitchen, “I have had almost no attendance at my morning classes. It’s like everyone’s afraid to set foot outside” 

“Not everybody” Charlie objected as Larry came in and sat a cup of water down for the mathematician. 

“Just the general populous” I commented. 

“Yeah. In times like these, an empty house is not a home” Larry said taking a seat at the table. “Evaluating my immediate prospects for a conventional nuclear family, I’ve just now begun to consider adoption.” 

“How long have you been considering it?” Charlie inquired. 

“Three days,” Larry offered. 

“Give it a few more days.” Charlie advised. 

“Yeah” Larry agreed “but consider Don. He had no prior notion or plan for raising a young adult and yet here he is doing just fine.” 

“That would convey the notion that my father is doing more than just monitoring me and providing me sustenance” I muttered. 

“I suppose there is something to be said about a mentoring learning curve” Larry murmured. Then looked at Charlie’s work “so what? You found a pattern yet?” 

“More like a pattern of patternlessness.” Charlie informed. 

“Is patternlessness even a word?” I asked. 

“Well it is now” Charlie stated. 

“Hey, there’s an interesting metaphysical notion.” Larry voiced. 

“What, whether patternlessness is a word?” I asked. 

“No the interesting part it plays in this case.” Larry explained “perhaps a human element remains to be inserted” 

Charlie groaned in annoyance. “You sound like this, uh, Agent Edgerton guy. He’s a sniper instructor that Don brought in from Quantico he thinks I should be out shooting rifles.” 

“Well, why aren’t you?” Larry inquired. 

“That would be cool” I agreed. 

“It’s a poor allocation of my time” Charlie objected “in the time it takes to shoot X number of rifles, I can access ten or twenty or a hundred times that amount of data” 

“No, no, no, no. there’s data and there’s hands-on experience” Larry pointed out. “These are two different beasts. That’s why you’ve got blackboards and laboratories.” 

“Well you study the universe, and you’ve never been to outer space.” Charlie countered. 

“Yeah, but if I had the opportunity, do you think for a moment I’d hesitate?” Larry said. 

Charlie sighed. “I think it’d be cool to shoot a rifle,” I voiced. 

Charlie gave me a look “you know It’s those kinds of statements that make Don worried about you” 

___________

“Why’d I have to come along?” I muttered. 

“Because if you hung around Larry and Charlie any longer you’d end up helping them on this crazy case and we both know it” Alan stated as we got on the elevator in the FBI office. 

“So your solution is to bring me to the heart of where the case is being handled.” I pointed out. 

“Point made but this is the side of it you definitely can’t help on” Alan commented. I nodded in agreement getting the point. 

The elevator opened and Don greeted us. “Hey guys” he smiled. 

“Hey Donnie” Alan smiled as we headed out of the elevator and into the FBI office. I’d never been here before and it was a cool place. People were all over the place in cubicles. There were meeting rooms with glass walls and doors and on one side a tall stack of file boxes. 

“Thanks for bringing lunch all the way down here.” Don told us as he led us through the office “Come on, this way.” 

“Oh well, you know, the drive was a pleasure.” Gramps explained. “Traffic on the 10 has never been thinner since, uh, well, since it’s been the 10” 

“Yeah, it’s like all LA’s in lockdown, huh? Little eerie” Don commented. “Right in here” we were ushered into a little break room. Alan sat the bag of food on the table and started setting things out. “You guys want a water?” Don asked, leaning by a mini fridge. 

“Yes please” Alan said politely. 

“Sure” I shrugged watching the people through the glass. 

Don set out three waters before taking his seat at the table. Alan got up to grab some napkins. “Hey kid, why don’t you sit down?” Don suggested. 

“Yeah” I agreed, coming over and sitting across from him where Alan had put my sandwich. “Everyone’s really busy out there huh?” 

“Yeah sniper’s a big case and it’s not the only one we have open right now so a lot going on” Don explained as Alan came back over. 

“So, how, uh, how are you and Charlie managing this case?” the elderly man asked. 

“Well, I mean, he’s frustrated; I’m frustrated.” Don shook his head raising his sandwich up to his face “I mean, we’re having a rough time on this” 

“Is that why he’s been running out of the house late at night?” Alan inquired as we ate. 

Don nodded “we got an agent on him all the time” he assured. 

“I mean, I know he’s been helping you out and that he comes down to your office a lot, and I- I think that’s great. But, but now you got him going out on crime scenes.” Alan explained “I mean, there's this guy shooting people out there.”

Don made a face and I could see the argument coming. I quickly spoke up to leave the room “uh where’s the bathroom here?” 

Don look to me “uh out down the hall to the left and then take a right” he gestured. 

“Thanks” I replied, getting up and shuffling out of the room. Glancing back I could see the conversation continuing in my absence. Don and Alan had a strong relationship this I could tell from the beginning. However, Alan was always worried about his sons especially on the FBI side of things. It was a worry I never fully understood but then again this was my first time with male role models so maybe it was just a guy thing to constantly worry about what you can’t control. 

___________________

3rd POV. 

Once Abby had left the room Don turned back to his father “Dad. you really think I would put Charlie in danger?” 

“No,” Alan objected “you know what I really think?” 

“What?” 

“I think you have to understand that Charlie can never say no to you,” Alan explained. Don let out an exasperated breath putting down his sandwich “I mean, I mean. All you have to do is to ask him something and he’s there for you.” 

“Yeah, and I’m there for him.” Don insisted. 

Alan sighed “look, he’s not a cop. Now, come on, I mean, he’s better off with chalk in his hand than a gun.” 

“You know, you got to stop this; he is a grown man, and he’s capable of-” 

“Who still seeks the approval of his older brother” Alan cut Don off. “Whether his older brother likes it or not. And- and more than that Abby, Abby is just like him I had to bring her out here with me just to keep her from trying to help anymore on this sniper math of his.” 

“Abby’s fine alright” Don objected “she just needs to learn to leave that stuff alone” 

“Yeah, and who’s job is it to teach her?” Alan pointed out. 

Don sighed and was about to reply when his phone went off he pulled it out to answer, muttering an excuse me. Meanwhile Abby returned hesitantly but determined the argument was over as she saw her father on the phone. 

“Gotta go” the agent declared gathering his food and getting to his feet “another shooting” 

“Oh my god” Alan muttered. 

“Yeah, I promise I won’t call Charlie till we roll the tanks out.” Don stated stopping in the doorway. “And I want you two to stay here until I call you, okay?” Alan nodded in understanding “all right, thanks for the sandwich” 

With that Don was heading off into the bullpen. “I barely got to say two words to him” Abby muttered, sitting down with her food. 

“Well, I suppose when duty calls” Alan sighed, turning and watching his granddaughter eat. 

__________________

Abby POV.

I left off a loud sigh as Larry and my grandfather began their chess game. “Come on Abby, you like chess,” Alan said. 

“I like playing chess, not watching it,” I replied, turning the page of my book. 

“Well how about you play winner” Gramps suggested and I shrugged in reply. “And would you mind sitting like a normal person we are in public” I raised my hands in an annoyed gesture as I sat sideways in my chair, my legs dangling over the arms rest of one side. Alan gave me a stern look and I sighed shifting in my seat. “Thank you”

“Yeah, yeah” I sighed slouching in my chair and turning another page of my book. 

“Oh. The Ruy Lopez opening” Alan commented on Larry’s move. “I see I’m dealing with a classicist here.” 

“Look, I warned you I was a little rusty” Larry pointed out with a slight laugh to his voice. “My game is also a little undeveloped.” 

“You know I had to stop playing with Charlie when he was eight years old.” Alan explained. 

“Yeah, more precociousness in the biography of professor Charles Eppes.” Larry sighed “yeah you know, among mathematicians, isn’t that just such a cliche, the playing chess?” 

“I didn’t mind losing” Alan explained leaning forward in his seat “it was that bored expression on his face, like he was playing out of courtesy. That’s what got to me” 

“That’s why I keep my poker face up when I challenge you” I muttered, not looking up from my book. “It’s just common courtesy” 

“Oh is that so?” Alan asked and I could hear the amusement in his tone as I smirked. “Perhaps you should remember who your ride home is then” we both chuckled lightly amused. 

“Oh yeah? Well, try Scrabble” Larry suggested ignoring my and my grandfather’s banter. “He’s a horrible speller” 

“Really?” Alan inquired. 

“Oh, he’s horrible,” Larry insisted. 

“I didn’t know that” Gramps sighed leaning back in his chair again. “You know quite a bit about my son.” 

“I don’t know” Larry murmured “I know he’s been a delight. You know, observing him all these years. You know, a star pupil’s ascension to such extraordinary heights I mean, yeah, that’s perhaps the most rewarding aspect of being a teacher.” 

“Come one, we both know you’ve been a lot more than just a teacher to Charlie” Alan pointed out. 

I glanced up to see a small smile grace Larry’s features “well, thank you for saying that.” 

I caught sight of the board and scoffed turning back to my book as Alan spoke again moving one of his bishop “oh, by the way, uh you’re now in check” 

“Oh you distracted me” Larry exclaimed, sitting up as Alan chuckled to himself. 

“Smooth Larry” I murmured. 

___________

“Here I found a tarp” I called tossing the bundled fabric at my uncle. 

“I just didn’t think that I was in immediate danger until I was” Uncle Charlie continued to explain the story I had coaxed out of him when he came back minorly distressed from the scene where the serial sniper was stopped. 

“Well yeah no one expects to die when their life has never been threatened before. Unless they’re paranoid” I muttered. 

“You seem far more calm with this then I would think” Charlie muttered as I climbed down the step ladder and we went to go outside. 

“Well I have experience around guns” I mumbled as we stepped back into the yard and was grateful to see my father there to draw away Charlie’s attention. 

“You told him?” Charlie asked. 

“Yeah about the gun range” Don muttered with a pointed look “that you shot a rifle. He shot a rifle, did a great job” Don rambled slightly. 

“I fired the rifle,” Charlie parroted. 

“Yeah, see i’m perfectly fine” Alan pointed out, wiping his hands with a rag “I didn’t fall off the ladder, I didn’t collapse. I certainly hope you got that out of your system now.” he muttered the last line at his youngest. 

“Definitely” Charlie agreed. 

I scoffed slightly and struggled to suppress my laughter at knowing the full knowledge of what happened as Gramps went to talk to Don about the stain they were putting on the house. Uncle C gave me a slight shove at my poorly suppressed amusement and I bent to help him spread the tarps. 

Chapter 10 ->