forgive my mouth

Title: Resolve, Unraveled
Author: Spikedluv
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: PG13/Slash
Pairing: Don/Colby
Length: 3270 words
Spoilers: Through 5.12 Jacked.
Summary: Don’s resolve to stay away from Colby is tested when he sees someone else take an interest.
Notes: Cliche!fic. Written for numb3rs_newyear for mercilynn. The prompts I went with were: Don/Colby . . . I'm a sucker for a good cliche . . . The schmoopier the better! Originally posted here at numb3rs_newyear.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated.
Written: January 18, 2010

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Don wasn’t blind; he’d noticed that Colby was gorgeous the moment he’d seen him. But Colby Granger was off limits. Not only was Colby straight, he was on Don’s team. And yeah, Don had teased the line before and dated fellow agents and attorneys he’d worked closely with (and on one occasion, a witness), but he’d never crossed it and dated a direct subordinate.

Three years later (three long years of looking but not touching, years during which Don had managed to keep his attraction to Colby safely locked away), Colby was still on Don’s team, but Don was now forced to reconsider his preconceptions, because apparently Colby wasn’t quite as straight as Don had thought.

Don’s good intentions all started to come undone the day he passed Colby and Tim King talking in the hall on his way back to the bullpen. They weren’t doing anything outrageous or secretive, and yet, given the fact that they’d gone head to head on two separate occasions when King’s SWAT team had backed up Don’s team, the fact that they were having a civil conversation at all captured Don’s attention.

Don nodded as he passed them, and then Colby called after him, “Hey, Don, wait up.”

Don slowed his step, but didn’t stop. Colby said a quick goodbye to King and then caught up to Don, opening the folder he carried to show Don the information inside. Colby’s eyes sparkled as he passed on the data to Don, and when Don glanced back over his shoulder, Tim King was shaking his head and smiling at Colby’s back. He sketched a wave to Don, then turned and walked off in the other direction.

Don told himself that it wasn’t any of his business if Colby weren’t entirely straight, or if he had a thing for Tim King, because nothing changed the fact that Colby was still on Don’s team, and yet he found it more difficult to keep those dangerous thoughts about Colby stashed securely in the box he’d clearly labeled ‘off limits’.

Don found himself watching Colby more closely, noticing things he’d previously not allowed himself to. Like the way Colby’s eyes followed an attractive male ass, or how adorable he looked when he blushed, or that his smiles went all the way to his eyes when they were real.

Like the fact that Colby spent a lot of time watching Don.

The first time Don realized it, it gave him a little thrill to know that Colby found him attractive, as well. Not that it made any difference to Don’s resolve, because Don still wasn’t going to do anything about his own attraction.

It was a pledge that Don was able to keep until the day he saw Tim King flirting with Colby in the bullpen. Flirting! In the bullpen!

“Colby!” Don called to him, the word coming out more sharply than he’d intended.

Colby glanced over, and he nodded when Don raised the file folder he held. Don watched as Colby and King said a quick goodbye and separated, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t drag his eyes away from King’s retreating form until Colby had joined Don where he stood beside David’s desk.

“What’s up, Don?”

“We’ve got to go question a vet,” Don said, gesturing once more with the folder.

He’d planned on sending David and Colby to interview Dr. Jamie Kirkland, but decided suddenly to take the interview with Colby himself. Don ignored the startled expression on David’s face as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and pointed the file at him.

“You two,” Don said, including Nikki in the order, “keep following the money. Let me know if anything pops.”

Don turned to Colby. “Let’s go, Colby,” he said, leading the way.

When they reached the bank of elevators Don punched the down button, and then tossed the suit jacket over his arm so he could free one hand to roll his sleeve down. After they stepped into the empty car, Colby slid the folder from Don’s hand so he could more easily roll down his other sleeve and button the cuffs.

Don shrugged into his jacket and was straightening his collar when Colby said, “Iraq or Afghanistan?”

Don paused his motions and shot a questioning glance at Colby.

“The vet,” Colby clarified, indicating the folder he’d taken from Don.

Don smiled as he tugged his cuffs down. “Dogs and cats. The occasional hamster,” Don said, and watched the way Colby’s lips turned up at the corners when he realized the error in his assumption.

“Ah, animal vet, not war vet. What’s his connection to the case?”

“He was making a house call for a very ‘good’ client when the robbery occurred,” Don said.

“Read: wealthy,” Colby mused.

The rest of the elevator ride to the parking garage and the walk to Don’s SUV was made in silence. After they pulled out into the LA sunlight, Don opened his mouth and said the first innocuous thought that came to him when they passed a huge billboard advertising an upcoming movie.

They talked about sports and movies and music on the ride out to the vet’s office, though Don couldn’t remember later much of what had been said. Aside from the benefit of spending time with Colby, the trip actually turned out to be productive, because Dr. Kirkland was able to describe the vehicle – a white panel van, of course – that might have been used by the robbers.

When they returned to their SUV, Don said, “Call the office, have Nikki put out a BOLO and start a DMV search for the van. And see what David’s found out on the financials.”

“There must be thousands of them,” Colby said, shaking his head as he pulled out his cell.

When Colby finished relaying Don’s orders while Don navigated rush hour traffic, Don told him to send the others home once they started the searches Don had requested. Colby raised an eyebrow at the atypical offer, but passed on Don’s words without comment.

Don waited until Colby disconnected the call, then said, “Do you have plans you need to get back for?”

Even as he asked the question Don kicked himself, but he couldn’t stop the image of Tim King smiling at Colby from forming in his mind, nor pretend it hadn’t made him jealous to imagine Colby returning King’s interest.

Not that it mattered, because Colby was free to date whomever he wanted, and Don couldn’t do anything about it. And wasn’t that the problem right there?

Colby’s head swung in Don’s direction, his surprise that Don had asked a personal question, when Don normally shied away from getting too personal, evident in his expression.

“Uh, no, I don’t have any plans.”

“I thought we could stop and get something to eat on the way back,” Don said, trying for casual, and hoping like hell that he succeeded.

Colby hadn’t lost that look of astonishment, but the hard edges of it were softened by the interest that filled his eyes. Don beat himself up, silently chanting, stupid, stupid, stupid! even as he waited breathlessly for Colby’s answer.

“No, yeah, sure, that would be, I could eat,” Colby stammered, and Don found himself smiling.

They ended up at a Mexican restaurant Don had eaten at once before. He remembered it having a comfortable atmosphere and good food at a price that wouldn’t break the bank. When they got inside though, the mood was set with low lighting and small tables, creating more of an intimate ambiance than Don remembered.

Colby didn’t say anything about the atmosphere, and even gave the restaurant an appreciative look as they were led to a table. For his part, Don had to force himself to not reach out and settle his hand on Colby’s lower back, like he would with any other date.

Because this wasn’t a date, Don reminded himself, as much as he might want it to be. Which he didn’t, because that would be a Very Bad Idea.

They seated themselves at the table the hostess indicated, and took the menus she handed them. She smiled as she told them that their server would be Janine, and that she’d be with them shortly, and then left them to return to her station.

As soon as they were alone, Don leaned across the table and said, “Sorry, I didn’t remember this place being quite so . . . .”

“No, it’s nice,” Colby interjected, and Don wasn’t sure if he imagined the color rising on Colby’s cheeks or not.

Janine appeared before Don could get too flustered over Colby’s reaction. She recited the specials, and then took their drink order. Since Don had taken them off duty, they both ordered beer. After Janine glided away, they both dropped their gazes to the menu and perused the choices while they waited for her to return with their drinks.

“What are you having?” Colby said, looking up when Don closed his menu.

“The stuffed chicken tortilla,” Don said, “with an order of the corn cakes to start. I’ve been wanting to come back here just for those.”

Colby ordered the fish taco and Don added the unlimited chips and salsa to their order. Over chips and beer, and then the corn cakes, Don asked Colby about growing up in Idaho. A story about a wrestling mishap led Don to tell Colby a baseball story.

When he stopped laughing, Colby said, “I bet Charlie must have loved you playing baseball.”

Before Don had to respond, the food arrived, and by the time they’d both tried their choices and sang their praises, the comment had been forgotten. Or, if Don interpreted Colby’s knowing look correctly, merely postponed.

Don determined to take advantage of the reprieve, and between bites of his chicken tortilla he told Colby a couple of stories from his Fugitive Recovery days, including the one about the time he and Billy Cooper used a gas station bathroom as their home base. Colby reciprocated by telling a few Afghanistan stories, though his smile dimmed when he spoke of Dwayne Carter.

Neither could finish their meals, so they skipped dessert, but continued their stories over coffee. By the time they stepped out into the darkening Los Angeles night, Don knew he was completely and utterly screwed.

~*~*~*~

Two days later Don looked up from his desk and caught a glimpse of Tim King before he was lost from view. Don experienced an unreasonable surge of jealousy, made even more irrational by the fact that he knew Colby wasn’t even in the building.

When David and Colby returned to the office, Don followed Colby to the kitchen to unnecessarily warm up the cup of coffee he’d just fixed.

“Hey, Colby, how’s it going?” Don said, trying for ‘casual interest’, rather than ‘stalker’.

Colby glanced up as he set the coffee pot back on the warmer. “Hey, Don. Good, you?”

“Great,” Don said, reaching for the pot as Colby made room for him at the counter. “Listen,” Don said, trying to keep his nerves out of his voice, “if you’re not busy tonight, there’s a hockey game on.”

Colby looked at Don from under his eyelashes as he stirred his coffee. “Hockey?”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t even know if you like hockey,” Don said, suddenly feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah? I mean, yeah, okay, great.”

Thankfully David interrupted them to tell Don that he had a call before Don could further embarrass himself. As Don picked up the handset at his desk he watched Colby head past him to his own desk, a contemplative expression on his face that Don thought could only bode ill.

Don did his best to stay away from Colby the rest of the day, afraid he’d make more of a fool of himself than he already had, and equally afraid he’d come to his senses and cancel.

At six, David and Colby had just finished a re-canvas of the neighborhood where the robbery had taken place. When David called in to tell him that they’d had no better luck jogging anyone’s memory of the day of the robbery, Don told him that they could head on home, and not to worry about filling out any reports until the morning.

Don sent Nikki home and waited until he was sitting in his SUV before taking out his cell phone. He opened a text to Colby, typed in his address and the time, and then hit send before he could second guess himself. Again.

Because Colby had seemed to really enjoy the Mexican food they’d had the other night, Don called ahead and stopped at a local restaurant on the way home to pick up some of their homemade salsa to serve during the game, as well as a taco platter. He thought about stopping for beer, but decided that he had enough in the fridge, and that it was more important to make sure he hadn’t left dirty clothes lying about.

After stowing the salsa in the refrigerator and putting the meat for the tacos in the oven to stay warm, Don hurried through the apartment making sure everything was picked up. He rushed through a shower, not sure how early Colby might show up, and then dressed in a comfortable pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt that was worn to a near flannel-like softness.

Don turned on the pre-game show and let it run as background noise while he went to the kitchen to make final preparations. He put a tray of corn chips in the oven to warm, and dumped the last of a frosted over bag of ice into a bucket for the beer. He pulled down a bowl for the chips and a smaller dish for the salsa, then set out a tray for the taco fixings. He got out silverware, and arranged bottles of beer in the ice.

Don had been so busy fussing that he nearly dropped the takeout container of salsa when the doorbell rang. He set the plastic dish on the counter and went to answer the door. Colby stood with one hand in the front pocket of his jeans, the other holding a six-pack of beer. He was looking down at the floor, and he raised his eyes to meet Don’s when Don pulled open the door.

“Colby, hey.”

“Hey.” Colby held out the six-pack. “I brought beer. I remembered you said you liked to try the local brews.”

“Yeah, thanks, that’s great,” Don said. He took the beer from Colby and stepped back, gesturing. “Come on in.”

Colby stepped into the apartment and Don shut the door behind him.

“You can hang your jacket there.” Don indicated the coat pegs where his own jacket hung. “I’ll just take this into the kitchen.”

Don pulled two bottles from the six-pack and put the rest in the fridge. He grabbed the bottle opener out of the drawer, and hip checked the drawer closed as he popped the tops off both bottles. Don handed one of the bottles to Colby, who’d made his way into the kitchen after hanging up his jacket. They clinked the necks of the bottles together, and then each took a sip.

Don tried not to notice the way Colby’s throat worked as he drank, but when he looked away, Don eyes fell to Colby’s chest, and he couldn’t help observing how Colby’s soft sweater pulled taut when he raised the bottle to his lips. Before he could get caught staring, Don detected the scent of the warming chips.

“Oh!”

Don set the bottle on the counter and dragged the back of his hand across his lips as he reached for a pot holder. He drew the tray of chips out of the oven and tipped it over the bowl, sweeping the chips into it.

“I picked up this salsa that they make from scratch,” Don said as he set the hot tray aside. “You’re gonna love it. “

Before Don could reach for the salsa to put it in a nice dish for serving, Colby was standing right in front of him.

“I need to, I need to do something.”

Colby looked way too serious, which both worried Don and made him want to fix it.

“Sure,” Don said, “anything.”

“I thought about waiting, seeing where the evening led . . . . I mean, I was pretty sure, but the thought of, well, waiting, I’m just not sure I could do that without going a little bit crazy, so I’m just gonna do . . . this.” Colby’s body tensed as he prepared to move, and then relaxed again when he continued talking instead. “I mean, it’s very possible I’ve misread the situation, and if that’s the case I apologize, you know? I mean, I don’t want things to be awkward . . . .”

Don went hot, then cold, and his stomach twisted as he tried to interpret Colby’s rambling. He thought he knew where Colby was going with this, and even though he knew he should put a stop to it, Don wanted it too much to do so. But frankly, the getting there was killing him.

“Colby.”

Colby went silent and just looked at him.

“Just do it.”

Colby nodded, and his gaze dropped to Don’s lips. Don had to force back the sound that built in his throat and tried to escape. Colby stepped further into Don’s space and slid a hand round the back of his neck. He moved slowly, giving Don plenty of time to stop him.

Which Don had no intention of doing, though it took all of Don’s willpower not to reach for Colby and hurry things along, to let him do this at his own pace. Don had a feeling that it would be well worth the wait. He wasn’t sure whether he meant these three minutes, or the past three years.

The moment drew out until Don thought he might die from the suspense, and then Colby’s lips were on his, and Colby’s body was pressed tightly to his.

Don couldn’t hold himself still any longer. He threw restraint (common sense having long since fled the scene) to the wind and dropped his hands to Colby’s hips as he parted his lips and invited Colby to deepen the kiss.

Colby gasped into Don’s mouth as Don dragged him closer. He moaned and accepted Don’s invitation, sliding his tongue across Don’s lips, and then slipping it between them.

Don shifted, bringing their bodies even further into alignment. He made a sound deep in his throat as they fit together. It would have been embarrassing if it hadn’t elicited a matching response from Colby.

Even though he’d put the thought of Colby as anything more than a member of his team far out of his mind for years, Don felt as if he’d been waiting forever for just this moment. When they finally broke for air, Don had to tear his eyes away from Colby’s lips, all red and wet and swollen.

When his gaze reached Colby’s eyes, Colby was looking right back at him, his breath coming as fast as Don’s.

“So, I’m guessing I didn’t misread the situation,” Colby panted.

Don brushed his thumb across Colby’s bottom lip. “This could end badly,” he said.

“Or not,” Colby said against Don’s lips just before he kissed him again.

As their tongues danced, and their bodies pressed together, Don forgot about anything but Colby Granger, and for the life of him, Don couldn’t remember why he’d thought this was anything other than the best idea ever.

The End