Summary:Short one-shot. Charlie learns something new about his brother

Disclaimer:If Numb3rs was mine, Liz wouldn't exist.

Author's Note:The title is taken from a song by Chris Cornell, and in actuality, makes no sense in terms of the story. However, it's better than calling this story 'Untitled'.

I really should be working on finishing my alphabet or AYN but... oh well.

Charlie stepped off the elevator and glanced around his brother's office. Not finding the person he was looking for, he quickened his steps to catch up to Megan as she left the break-room with a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hands.

"Hey Megan, is Don around? We were supposed to meet for lunch…," Charlie asked.

Megan smiled in welcome at her favourite consultant, and her boss's brother, "Hey Charlie. Don's talking," Megan paused, "Well… kind of talking to a witness right now. He should be done soon, and then you can whisk him away for a well-deserved break. Look, he's right there." She pointed towards one of the interrogation rooms.

Standing where he was, next to the break room, Charlie could barely make out two shapes through the glass of the interrogation room. Following Megan back to her workspace which she shared with Don and the rest of the team, the young mathematician could now clearly see the back of a dark-haired man, his brother, and over whose shoulder Charlie could see the face of a wide-eyed young woman who seemed to be in her twenties.

Noticing something a tad amiss about the interview, Charlie took a few steps to the side and his eyes widened to a degree to compete with the expression on the distressed woman's face. He finally understood what Megan meant earlier when she said Don was 'kind of' talking to the witness. He had initially dismissed it as Don talking to an uncooperative spectator but now…

He was rooted in the same position when Don left the interrogation room and made his way to Megan and his brother, slapping Charlie on the arm with the folder in his hands as he passed him.

"Hey buddy. Just give me a few minutes and we'll grab lunch, yeah?"

Charlie didn't reply, choosing simply to watch his brother as he had a quick, hushed conversation with Megan. Don then grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and moving towards the elevators, he called:

"Let's go, Chuck."

CARRYONCARRYONCARRYON

Charlie paused in eating his own meal to observe his brother over the table. Halfway through the meal, the young mathematician now felt comfortable enough to begin his interrogation:

"So," began Charlie simply.

Don met his brother's eyes over the rim of his coffee cup and lifted an eyebrow in question.

"So what?" asked Don.

"Sign language, huh?" Charlie still couldn't dispel the image of his brother sitting in the interrogation room signalling rapidly with his hands and receiving replies in kind from the witness. In retrospect, Charlie wasn't sure why he was so surprised at not knowing. It's not like it was something to come up in normal, day-to-day conversation: "Oh guess what? I learned sign language today." Charlie snorted in disbelief. But still, it seemed like another part of Don; a part of him who could converse with the deaf.

Don seemed likely taken aback at the seeming out-of-nowhere question but recovered quickly, smiling as he shook his head. "Yes. Sign language; what about it?"

Charlie laughed at his brother's slightly defensive tone, "Nothing man, it's just… when did you learn? I don't remember you having any deaf friends as kids so you couldn't have learned it then."

"Nah, I picked it up when I was in Albuquerque. One of my friends lost his hearing because of an explosion so I learnt sign language with him, seemed like a good opportunity at the time." Don conveniently neglected to mention that he had lost his hearing at the same time, but because he was further away from the bomb than his friend, his impairment was only temporary, thankfully. However, the desire to learn sign language came fully from not wanting his friend to go it alone, rather than what he'd told Charlie.

"And it's proved to be quite useful over the years. It saves me the trouble of having to talk through a third person whenever we come across deaf/mute people during a case."

Charlie nodded his head and took a sip of water before asking, "So, can you teach me?" At Don's surprised look he added, "What? If nothing, it'll help with my dexterity. Before you know it, my hand is permanently going to be cramped in a chalk/marker holding position."

"Sure, Chuck, if you want to learn. What's in it for me?" asked Don mischievously.

Charlie rolled his eyes at the extortion, as well as the hated nickname, "Well, Donald, I'll… through in a consulting gig for free, how's that?"

"That's helping the FBI, it's not helping me," protested Don.

"Well, you learnt sign language as a result of the FBI. And it helps you out as an agent. Seems fair, doesn't it?" argued back Charlie.

Don considered the logic of this for a minute, and then shrugged in defeat. "Fine. But since I won't be teaching you on FBI time, I expect to be well-fed and watered when I do teach you."

"Deal," Charlie grinned at his minor victory. Waiting until his brother was taking another sip of his coffee, he asked:

"So, can you read lips?"

Don nearly choked on his coffee. Clearing his throat before answering, he asked, "Where the hell did that come from?"

Charlie shrugged, "I don't know. It's just… it would be cool if you could."

Don smiled at the reminder that, genius or not, sometimes his brother was nothing more than a kid. Instead of replying directly, he nodded his head in the direction over Charlie's shoulder and said:

"There's a man, five booths down, talking on his cell-phone. I think he's having an argument with whoever is on the other end because he just said: You think you're smart? I'm double smart!"

Charlie snorted into his water before saying, "I knew it. And I'm sure you can read body language pretty well too, being an agent. Did you know 60 percent of human communication is non-verbal?"

Again, Don chose not to reply directly. Discreetly pointing to the mother and teenage son sitting a few tables away, he said:

"The kid is trying to pull a fast one over his mom. He's showing all the classic tells of lying: pulling at his ear, covering his mouth with his hand, scratching his nose. And I don't think his mom is falling for it either…"

"Kinda like when you showed the same signs when you tried to convince Mom you hadn't been off smoking with your friends that one time in junior high and she didn't believe you?" asked Charlie, smiling broadly at the memory.

Don mock-glared at his brother before suddenly grinning and asking: "Hey, Chuck. Lesson number one: Can you tell me what this sign means?" before cheekily holding up his middle finger.

Khatum (The End)

Learning sign language is definitely on my summer agenda. Along with Morse code.

I have a cousin who is a deaf/mute, and in a way, this story is for her and everyone like her.

Hoped you liked, let me know what you thought of this weekend's silliness.