This is a Fic To Order as requested by Mega07ghost. The prompts are as follows:

Characters: Don, Larry (Charlie)

Setting: protection (?) (If that's a possible word for setting)

Situation: Larry sees how someone kills a student. The murderer recognizes him and because Larry knows the murderers face, this one is trying to kill him. Don (and the rest of the FBI, but especially Don) have to protect him. Everything is up to you ( f.e. the end ... the murderer could kill Larry or not...)

Mood: dramatic

Reference (this is the 'word'): Protection

"Someone want to tell me again why we're doing this?" Colby asked, glancing at the others in the conference room. "I thought Witness Protection was covered by the marshals."

Nikki shuffled together a stack of folders. "As I heard it," she replied. "It was the only way he'd agree to protection."

David walked in on the last of Liz's comment. "The professor has FBI top level security clearance," he added. "So we also want to keep our own eyes on him until this is over."

"Yeah, but WitSec is more experienced in this kind of thing," Colby replied.

"Come on, Granger," Nikki teased. "You mean to tell me you're not looking forward to this?"

Colby shook his head. "Not even a little bit."

"It'll be a cakewalk," she insisted. "A little TV, a little pizza, maybe a game of chess or two…"

David and Colby exchanged grins. David asked "You haven't spent a lot of time with the professor, have you?"

"Not much, why?"

Colby headed for the door. "You get to go first," he called over his shoulder.

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Nikki opened the door to Colby's knock. "Took you long enough!" she hissed. "You were supposed to be here an hour ago!"

"I didn't want to spoil your fun," he replied as he slid past her into the hallway. "Figured you might have some killer chess moves you hadn't used yet."

"Yeah, like I'd have a hope in hell of beating him at chess," she growled in return. "What kept you?"

Colby shrugged one massive shoulder and ambled over to the sofa, dropping into the soft cushions with a sigh. "Had a few leads to chase down first."

"And?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, as usual," he said as he stretched across the sofa's length. "Where's our witness?"

Hooking a thumb toward the closed bathroom door, Nikki replied, "Gathering his thoughts. Apparently he's never experienced a Jacuzzi-style epiphany before."

Colby just grinned at her retreating figure and let his eyes slide closed.

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Half an hour later, Colby jerked out of his light doze as the bathroom door opened. "Hey, professor," he greeted the enrobed man as he shuffled out in a cloud of steam. "How was the bath?"

"Not as enlightening as I'd hoped," he replied sadly. "Although I do seem to have experienced some relief from my bursitis."

Colby grinned. "Good to hear."

The diminutive academic neatly folded himself into an overstuffed armchair. "I presume your presence represents the 'changing of the guard', as it were?" he asked.

Glancing at his watch, Colby nodded, "For the next six and a half hours, I'm the all-knowing, all-seeing watchdog."

"You know," the other man mused, his fingers steepled under his chin. "There's a lot of misconceptions surrounding the stereotypical guard dog…"

Laughing, Colby got to his feet. "I was referring more to the hypothetical but feel free to explain." He began to inspect the room's perimeter.

"Nah," came the reply. "I was never much of a canine aficionado, myself. Whereas they are considered to be 'man's best friend', I never seemed to get along with them."

Colby turned from one of the room's windows, letting the curtain drop as he did so. "Well, you don't strike me as a cat-person either."

The physicist smiled and rubbed one cheek with his hand. "I consider myself more of a piscaphile, actually."

"Larry Fleinhardt, fish-lover," Colby muttered under his breath. "Now there's a shock…"

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"Just… just explain to me…" Charlie panted as he raced to keep up with his brother. "Explain – will you slow down? Explain to me why I can't… Don!"

Don stopped abruptly, narrowly dodging a collision. "What, Charlie? For the hundredth time already – you can't visit Larry. He's under protection."

Charlie readjusted his messenger bag awkwardly. "Well, it's actually only the eighth… Don!"

With a sigh, Don turned and strode away at his former rapid pace. "I don't have time for this right now, Charlie," he tossed back over his shoulder. "I've got work to do."

"Will you… Wait a minute!" Charlie caught up just as Don reached his vehicle. Placing his hand on the door, he said, "Just… wait a minute. Can you just give me a minute?"

"What?" Don's mouth set in a thin line, clearly transmitting his irritation. "One minute."

Charlie took a deep breath. "Look… Dad, Amita and I – we're worried about him. Are you going to see him?"

"Sometime," the agent conceded.

"Well…" Charlie rummaged in his bag, drawing out a notebook. "Can you give him this for me, please?"

Don stared at the book as though it were poison. "What is it?"

"It's just some stuff he was working on when… The other night," Charlie finished lamely. "It might help him pass the time."

"Alright." Don held out his hand to take it. As Charlie passed it over, he asked, "Anything else?"

Charlie slumped in relief. "Just tell him we're thinking about him, okay?"

Nodding, Don pulled open the door of the SUV and climbed inside. "If you really want to see him," he said. "Go do some of your mathemagical mumbo-jumbo so we can find this guy and bring Larry home."

Charlie shook his head, grumbling "Mathemagical mumbo-jumbo?"

"Oh, and Charlie?" Don added.

"Yeah?"

Don smiled. "Use your powers only for good, my friend – don't try to extrapolate Larry's likely location. It's only 'witness protection' if no one knows where the witness is, okay?"

Charlie snapped his mouth shut on an argument against the word 'extrapolate' and merely nodded as the vehicle pulled away.

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David watched as Larry picked at his food listlessly. "Something wrong?"

"No…" Larry shook his head, paused and then nodded. "Yes… I don't know…" He suddenly stood and walked over to the window, parting the curtains fractionally with one finger.

Guessing at the cause of his friend's discomfort, David ventured "It must be difficult, after being in space and living in a monastery, to adjust to being stuck in a hotel room twenty-four seven."

"Kind of," Larry agreed. "It's more the knowledge that while this… executioner… goes free I – the law-abiding citizen – have to be confined. The irony has not escaped me."

"You do realize we're trying to protect you, not kidnap you – right?" David asked.

Nodding, Larry let the curtain fall and moved to sit on the edge of one of the beds. "It's more a psychological containment than a physical one," he replied. "The result is similar, however." He paused as David checked his watch. "Time for your relief to arrive?"

David nodded. "Almost."

"I must apologize, David," Larry said sadly as he stretched out on the bed. "I'm afraid I haven't been the best company for you or your teammates during this tedious ordeal."

David chuckled. "It's alright, Larry," he replied. "We don't expect you to entertain us. We just want to keep you safe." He got up as a light knocking pattern sounded at the door. "Don't worry about it." Larry sat up as David went to the door, checked the peephole and then stepped back. Turning the knob, he added, "Apparently you rate the best security."

Larry's eyes widened. "Agent Edgerton?"

The sniper quietly slid into the room with a smile. "Professor. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Larry answered. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you," he amended quickly.

"Relax, Professor," Edgerton said with a wave of his hand. "I stopped at the office and Don filled me in. I volunteered." He glanced over as David's eyebrows shot up. "I'm usually up all night anyway so I figured I'd make myself useful." Looking at Larry he went on "Besides… it's been a while since I've had a decent game of chess."

"And on that ominous note," David said, gathering up his jacket. "I will bid you gentlemen good night."

Larry waved. "Good night, David."

Edgerton waited until the door was closed before starting his own scan of the room. "Seems they pulled out all the stops for you, huh professor?" At Larry's confused look he explained, "Fancy hotel room… catered meals…"

"…The fourth-best shot in the United States…" Larry supplied.

"I still think I made third," Edgerton countered. "That was a tricky shot."

"Yeah, well…" Larry scratched his cheek absently. "To each his own, I suppose." He glanced around the room. "I'm afraid we don't have a chess board here."

Edgerton stuck his head into the bathroom briefly and then drew back. "Jacuzzi, huh?" he asked, pulling the door shut. Larry shrugged. "I'll bring one next time." Reaching into his jacket, the sniper pulled out Larry's notebook and tossed it. "Don asked me to make sure you got that."

Snatching it out of the air, Larry said, "Thanks." He glanced through the pages and then set it on the nightstand. "From your choice of words, am I to infer that this…" He gestured to the room. "…Is going to last a while?"

"Probably." Edgerton moved one of the curtains slightly and peered out before letting it drop. "Who are they looking for, anyway?"

Larry sighed. "My TA. Teaching assistant," he clarified at the sniper's puzzled frown. "At least I thought he was a TA. Turns out he was just using me to get at one of my students." Larry's shoulders slumped. "I didn't suspect a thing."

Edgerton sat in the chair David recently vacated. "I hope you're not blaming yourself for that, professor," he said gently.

"A little," Larry confessed. "I can't help but think if I hadn't been so distracted by my mental sojourns into the-"

"Stop."

Larry's eyebrows shot up. "I beg your pardon?"

Leaning back in the chair, the agent said, "You were about to tell me that if you hadn't been doing your job, you could've somehow prevented a killer from getting to one of your students." He paused. "Last time I checked, you only had FBI clearance – not FBI training."

Sighing deeply, Larry replied, "Although on the conscious level I know what you're saying to be true, Agent Edgerton… The subconscious' propensity to self-flagellate in a situation such as this seems… inescapable."

"Only if you let it," the other man said simply. "Why don't you try to get some rest?"

"I don't think-"

Edgerton smiled. "Then you should have no trouble falling asleep."

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Don looked up into his brother's expectant face and bit back a groan of frustration. "What is it, Charlie?"

"I used a predictive model," Charlie began firmly. "Given the few facts we know and extrapolating the data we don't based on likely goals and behaviors of suspects in similar situations…"

"…And?"

Leaning heavily against the cubicle partition, Charlie answered, "Nothing we didn't already know. His next likely move is going after Larry."

Nodding, Don went back to the file he'd been reading. After a moment he looked up again. "What is it, Charlie?" he repeated.

"Are you going to see him?" Charlie countered. "I know you've sent everyone else…"

"We're all taking it in rotation," Don replied, frowning. "Why is this so important to you?"

Dropping into a nearby chair, Charlie said "It's just… I know your team – they're all good people – and I know they're keeping him safe but… Since I can't go-"

"You want me to go see him and report back that he's alright." Don finished for him. At Charlie's nod, he added "You think it'll be easier to believe if I tell you myself, right?"

Charlie swallowed hard. "I'm not saying the others aren't trustworthy, Don," he said quickly. "You know I don't believe that for a minute…"

"Calm down, Charlie," Don said, tossing the file on his desk. "I'm taking my turn tonight."

"Really?"

"Really," he affirmed. "Better?"

Charlie nodded and smiled. "You don't know how much."

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Don stepped into the hotel room as Liz stepped aside. "All quiet?" he asked.

"As a church," Liz replied. She paused and then went on "Are we sure this Knox guy is really after Larry?"

"Charlie says so," Don answered simply. "Where is he?"

Liz pointed to the closed bathroom door with one hand as she scooped up her jacket with the other. "Good luck," she said, heading for the still-open door.

"Thanks." Don waited until it swung shut behind her with a soft 'click' and then did a complete circuit of the room. That done, he placed a long box on the coffee table and settled in the armchair to wait.

After a few minutes the bathroom door opened and Larry walked out, pausing when he saw Don in the room. "Right on time," he commented.

"How's it going, Larry?" Don asked.

The physicist shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I suppose," he replied. "How goes the search for Bennett Knox?"

Don shook his head. "As well as can be expected, I suppose," he imitated. "How are you really?"

"Bored," Larry confessed. "I know a person in my profession shouldn't ever be bored but after much contemplation, I've decided that that is the only apt description of my psychological state at present."

Frowning, Don asked, "Didn't Edgerton give you the notebook I sent?"

"Oh he did," Larry assured him hurriedly. "But lack of fresh stimuli has a way of numbing the imagination."

"I suppose it would at that," Don agreed. "How about a game of chess?" He reached out and pulled the lid off the box.

Larry settled into the armchair opposite. "An acceptable diversion, to be sure," he replied. "I hope you've been practicing, Agent Eppes," he warned.

"You're about to find out, Professor Fleinhardt," Don shot back as he set up the board.

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Two hours and several games later, Don was just starting to give Larry a run for his money when a knock sounded at the door. Placing a finger to his lips, Don stood and moved toward the door. "Who is it?" he called, drawing his sidearm.

"Room service."

Don looked at Larry, who had a baffled expression on his face. When the older man shrugged, Don motioned him to the bathroom. "We didn't order any room service," Don called back. He waved a hand at the physicist and mimed locking the door. Larry nodded once and hurried out, closing the door behind him. The lock gave a satisfying 'click' and Don slid over to glance through the peephole.

A rather bored-looking young man stood on the other side, his hands braced on a low, rolling cart holding covered dishes. "Sent up by a Mr. Granger, sir," he replied with a sigh. "Do you want me to take it back down?"

Don opened the door and peered cautiously up and down the corridor. "No," he said, holstering his weapon. "Just leave it."

"Okay." The young man didn't move. "You want me to push it inside?"

"I'll do it," Don drew out his wallet and handed the boy a bill. "You can go." Shrugging one shoulder, the waiter turned and loped casually down the hall. Don waited until he'd disappeared around the corner and then looked down at the silver domes on the cart. He reached for one of the handles, thought better of it and pulled out his cell phone instead. He thumbed a speed dial button and held it to his ear, scanning the now-empty corridor as he waited.

"Granger."

"Did you send up food?" Don asked without preamble, his gaze now locked on the silver salvers in front of him.

Colby paused. "No. What's up?"

Don leaned closer to the dishes. "I just got a cart of food from room service," he replied. "We didn't- " He broke off. One of the lids wasn't sitting squarely on its plate. Under the edge Don could see a thin strip of red. "Wires," he whispered.

"What?" Colby demanded.

Don backpedaled quickly, slamming the door closed. He just managed to yell "It's a-" before the door exploded inward and he was thrown to the floor, the phone arcing out of his grasp and flying across the room. Although the thick door had absorbed most of the shock from the blast, Don still found himself facedown on the carpet, struggling to bring its pattern into focus.

After a moment, Don shoved himself up on all fours, shook his head and began crawling toward one of the overturned armchairs. He'd just managed to scramble behind it when a crash from the hallway announced the arrival of someone pushing the destroyed cart out of the way.

Don drew his gun and peered around his inadequate shelter. Standing in the doorway was a deceptively thin man, his scowling features lending his age more toward forty years than the thirty he'd put on his university CV. Bennett Knox scanned the room fast, his eyes finally settling on the closed bathroom door.

Figuring on less than fifteen feet between himself and this new threat, Don silently uttered a prayer that his team was on the way and leapt to his feet, his gun leveled at Knox. "FBI, freeze!" he yelled. At least he hoped he did. What with the semi-set Jell-O in his head and the ringing in his ears, he couldn't be sure. "Hold it, Knox!" he added.

Without even seeming to move, a knife appeared in Knox's hand. A quick flick of the wrist sent it flying just as Don pulled the trigger. The resulting blast caused him to stagger slightly just as the blade found its mark. Don let out a sharp breath as the gun dropped from his hands, hitting the floor just after Knox's lifeless body.

Don blinked in surprise. The sudden burning sensation in his chest made him second-guess the wisdom of letting out his air when he gasped. He didn't think he'd be able to get it back now. He turned toward the bathroom door.

"L...Lar..." he began. Trying again, Don was able to draw in a little air, hissing through clenched teeth. "Larry!" The door opened a crack and one wide blue eyeball appeared. Don waved at him weakly. "Come..."

Larry didn't need further prompting. He yanked the door open fully and rushed to Don's side. "Oh my God, Don!" he exclaimed. "What can I-"

Pointing at a nearby table, Don whispered "Phone."

"Of course!" Larry whirled and grabbed up the receiver, punching the '0' button repeatedly. "Operator... Hello? Operator?"

Don sagged against the armchair, strength seeping out of his limbs. He let his head drop to his chest and wished immediately that he hadn't. Now he could see with grisly clarity where Knox's knife had ended up. As if the vision of the dull metal handle protruding from his blood-soaked shirt had flipped a switch, Don suddenly found it difficult to inhale.

"Room four-eighty-two! Yes!" Larry was yelling into the phone. "Hurry!" He dropped the receiver into its cradle and hurried to Don's side. "Help is on the way!" he sputtered. "What can I do?"

"Sit." Don panted.

Larry looked confused. "Who, me?" he asked. Don shook his head. "Oh! You need to sit down!" He looked around. Grabbing a decorative straight-backed chair that was set against a wall, he dragged it over and stood it next to Don. "Here," he said, carefully grasping the agent's elbow. "Try this." Don lowered onto it with a groan, his shallow breaths sounding wet even to his own battered ears. Larry ran into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a handful of towels. "I know we shouldn't pull it out," he began. "But maybe we could pack it..."

"Don't," Don spat. "Don't... touch." He leaned against the back of the chair and moaned.

"I know it's not the most comfortable," Larry said, aware that he was now rambling. "But I figured it would be easier than one of those soft club chairs."

Don's head lolled back. "It's fine," he whispered.

Larry began to pace, wringing his hands in frustration, the towels forgotten on the floor. His first nervous reflex was to chatter but he knew Don would be tempted to reply - and he just didn't think that was a wise idea, given the circumstances.

"Larry," Don said breathily.

"I know, I know," Larry cut in, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'll stop." He froze in position but his hands kept moving.

"No." Don lifted his head. "Need to... lie down..."

Larry shook his head. "You're better off upright, if you can tolerate it," he answered. "It'll keep the blood from pooling-"

"Going... into shock," Don interrupted. "Need... feet up."

Nodding, Larry moved to his side. "The bed, then," he agreed, helping Don to his feet. "Hang on." He reached down, grabbed one of the towels and spread it on the bed then guided the agent over. Once Don was settled, Larry quickly grabbed pillows from the other bed, using them to prop up his feet. He pulled off the blanket as well but stared down at Don uncertainly. "Uh... I'm not sure..."

Don opened one eye and looked at him. "...What?" he said through teeth clenched in pain.

"You should be kept warm but..." Larry waved vaguely at Don's wound. "...I'm not sure how to accomplish that with your... accessory."

Barking a short laugh, Don replied, "Just... don't put it... there."

"This is basic geometry, Lawrence," Larry muttered as he moved forward, the blanket held before him like a shield. "If your esteemed colleagues could see you now, they'd be laughing their collective posteriors off..."

Don drew a ragged breath. "Larry," he began.

"I know, I know," Larry interrupted, arranging the cover gently over Don's form. "I apologize."

Shaking his head weakly, Don said "Don't... be so hard... on y-yourself..."

Finally satisfied, Larry stepped back and glanced around. "What is taking them so long?" he demanded, his voice high-pitched with stress.

"Gun."

Larry whirled. "What did you say?"

Don licked his lips. Raising a trembling hand, he repeated, "Gun. Larry..."

Spying the weapon next to the corpse, Larry inched over and snatched it up between thumb and forefinger. "What - what do you want me to do with it?" he asked.

"Here." Don lifted his hand slightly. "Give... to me."

Larry placed the gun in his open palm, flinching when Don's hand dropped to the mattress. "Are you sure...?"

Don groaned and shifted on the bed. "Come around... this side," he panted. "Away... from the door."

"I'm sure this is unnecessary," Larry protested as he did as he was commanded. "The only foe we needed to worry about is beyond retaliation."

"Can't..." Don paused for breath. "...Be too careful."

Both men froze at the sound of commotion in the hallway. Don lifted the gun, pointing it at the open door, only the slight trembling of his hand betraying his waning strength.

Suddenly Nikki appeared in the doorway, gun held at the ready. Upon seeing Don, however, her hands came up in surrender. "It's just me, Boss," she said quickly. "Well... me and the cavalry." She nodded back over her shoulder for emphasis and Colby peered around the splintered frame.

Don lowered the gun, his head dropping back on the bed as the adrenaline left his body. Larry looked up at the two agents. "I certainly hope you brought paramedics," he whispered.

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"What is it with you and sharp objects, Boss?" Nikki asked as she stood next to the hospital bed. "Should we be clearing your desk of letter openers and staple removers or what?"

Don slid one hand behind his head and grinned at his agent. "Yeah, maybe," he agreed. "I wouldn't want them to put 'death by office supplies' on my tombstone."

"Don't worry Don," Colby put in from his spot at the foot of the bed. "We wouldn't let Betancourt get away with it." He dodged as Nikki swung at him half-heartedly.

"You know," a familiar voice spoke from the doorway. "Statistically, office-related injury isn't as rare as one would think." Charlie broke off as the others welcomed him enthusiastically. "Hey Don, how's it going?" he asked as he moved to his brother's side.

"Not bad, all things considered," Don replied easily, grasping Charlie's hand and pulling him in for a one-armed hug. "Dad with you?"

Alan stepped into the room. "Right here," he called out. "Although I seem to recall someone telling me we wouldn't be doing this again."

"Aw, c'mon Dad!" Don protested. "It's not like I make a habit out of it."

"Getting stabbed twice is coming dangerously close to a habit," Alan countered. He quickly turned to Charlie. "And I don't want to hear about how inaccurate that is."

Holding up his hands, palms out, Charlie replied "I didn't say a word!"

Don looked around the room. "Hey," he said suddenly. "Where's Larry?"

"Ah... he said he'd be by later," Charlie answered. "Said he had to pick something up."

"We should get going," Colby said, casting a meaningful glance at Nikki. "We've still got mounds of paperwork to do."

Nikki stammered "Uh... right. Right." She looked at Don. "And we still have to go over your desk." Nodding once, she added, "See you later, Boss."

Don lifted a hand in a wave. "Later guys. Thanks." He waited until they left the room before turning to his father. "Did you call Robin?"

"I did," Alan confirmed. "And I assured her that this time she needn't come rushing back home."

"Thanks." Don wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. "She'll be back the day after I get out of here, anyway."

Charlie cleared his throat. "Um... Don? I just wanted to apologize for-"

"Don't apologize, Charlie," Don interrupted. "You were worried about Larry. I should be the one apologizing for biting your head off."

A satisfied smile crept onto Charlie's face. "Yeah, well... Seems like I wasn't the only one worried about Larry."

Don returned the smile. Stifling a yawn, he said "I don't want to kick you guys out of here but I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be lousy company in about ten minutes."

"Don't worry," his father replied, settling a warm hand on his shoulder. "We hadn't planned on staying long."

Charlie nodded. "We just wanted to check in on you. We can come back tomorrow."

"After classes," Alan put in. "You need sleep more than company anyway."

"Alright," Don agreed. This time he let the yawn escape. "I'll see you guys tomorrow then."

The two men headed for the door. At the last minute, Alan turned. "I really am glad you're alright," he said softly.

"Me too, Dad," Don replied with a tired smile. "Me too."

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Larry opened the door a crack and peered around the edge. At the sight of Don lying still, his eyes closed, he let out a small sigh and started to withdraw. He stopped as a low voice said, "Come on in, Larry."

"I thought you were asleep," Larry said as he opened the door wider and stepped inside.

Don turned his head and looked at him. "I've been sleeping all day." He studied the physicist carefully. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"I think I should be asking you that question," Larry replied. "You're the one in the bed."

"I'm bored," Don confessed. "There's only so much lying around a guy can take." He reached for the bed controls, bringing him into more of a sitting position. "What have you been up to?"

Larry pulled up a chair. "Revisiting the scene of the crime," he replied, patting his pocket. He pulled out a cell phone and set it on the table. "Colby said it would be alright if I brought this to you - to replace your old one."

Don picked up the phone, turning it over in his hand. "My old phone...?" He let the question trail off.

"Sadly, it didn't come out of the experience unscathed," Larry said, shaking his head slowly. "When you lost your hold on it, it sailed across the room and met its untimely demise."

"Better it than me," Don replied easily. He set the phone down. "So what else did you bring me?" he asked, indicating the box Larry had tucked under his arm.

Setting the box in his lap, Larry said "It occurred to me, once the furor died down, that last evening's events were what your brother would call an anomaly."

"Oh?" Don pushed himself higher in the bed. "How so?"

"Well ordinarily," Larry went on. "Witness protection is in place right up until the time of the trial. Rarely does the criminal come right up to the doorstep - they usually wait until a moment of indiscretion to attack their accuser."

"True," agreed Don with a nod.

Larry continued, "And explosive devices usually do either more or less damage than that one did - just enough force to blow the door open."

"Also true."

"But the thing that stood out the most for me," Larry said, holding up a finger. "Beyond the battle and the damages and the injury..." He placed a hand on the box. "...Was the realization that you were actually beating me at chess." Don opened his mouth to protest but Larry cut him off. "Not just beating me, Don - you were seriously kicking my ass."

Don grinned. "So are we talking grudge match here, or what?"

Larry set the box on the table and lifted the lid. "Oh, you can count on that, Agent Eppes," he replied with a similar grin.

"Bring it on, Professor," Don drawled as he began setting up the board. "Let's see what you got."

THE END