Disclaimer: Numb3rs isn't mine

A/N: A title like this one (from the Alanis Morissette song) is just asking for some good angst.

This is also an experiment in two parts: One, trying to tell a story based strongly on the power of suggestion rather than laying all the facts on the table and two, having a very linear form (beginning-middle-end). Besides, I wanted to challenge myself a little, try something a little different from my usual spiel.

U is for Uninvited

I

Alan shifted uncomfortably outside the door to his eldest son's apartment. It's ridiculous, really, to be so nervous, thought Alan, it's not like I'm standing at the entrance to a lion's den. Although… that might not be very far from the truth.

Discarding any and all thoughts from his mind, Alan reached out and knocked twice, concentrating on the sounds of someone moving inside rather than what his first words were going to be.

The door opened to reveal his half-dressed son with an untied tie around his neck, hair still wet from the shower and a confused expression on his face albeit a guarded look in his eyes.

"Dad? What are you doing here so early? Everything ok?" asked Don in concern as he stepped aside to let his father enter his home.

"Nothing life-threatening, I can tell you that," assured Alan as he stepped across the threshold.

"That's always good to hear," replied Don a bit distractedly as he walked into the kitchen area. Holding up a pot of freshly made coffee, he questioned, "Dad, you want anything to drink?"

"No thanks, Donnie, I'm alright." Alan took a seat on his son's couch and did a quick glance around. Don had always been very meticulous growing up, and the state of his apartment reflected that for nothing was out of place although Alan supposed that could do more with the fact that Don was hardly here…

Pouring himself a cup which he placed on the marble counter-top, Don walked towards his father and as he tied his tie he asked, "Not that I'm not happy to see you Dad but why are you here?"

"What, a man needs a reason to come visit his son whom he hasn't seen for days?"

"No, but in the past, you've left messages on my voice mail bordering on the threatening, telling me to come over. Or, you just pop by the office with lunch. What you don't do is come to my place at 7 in the morning. Can you blame me for questioning your motives?" Don asked with a lift of an eyebrow.

"Ever think you've been interrogating people too long?" said Alan in way of reply.

"After I beat the current record for most interrogations conducted, I'll quit," replied Don, "but until that happens, you'll just have to answer my question."

Alan exhaled deeply. He may as well come clean. After all, he'd come here with a purpose in mind.

"Is everything alright between you and Charlie?"

Don shrugged but didn't look his father in the eyes, which Alan noticed. "Everything's fine." Turning around and walking towards his bedroom, he tossed over his shoulder: "Why do you ask?"

"I just get the feeling you two haven't… talked… in a while."

"A feeling, huh?" Alan didn't need to see his son's face to know the expression which was probably crossing it: amused disbelief. "You know, siblings all around the world actually go without talking for over a month at a time without the family declaring a national emergency. I think it's calling leading separate lives."

"Not when those separate lives happen to go on in the same city, and often enough in the same office, as in the case of you and your brother," rebutted Alan.

Don came into view once again as he leaned against the door-post of his bedroom, fastening his cuffs but looking at his father with a curious expression on his face. "Let me guess: Charlie's had an interesting morning as well?"

Alan sighed. "That's neither here nor there."

"If he's booted you from the house, you're welcome to stay over. It's not like I'm at home all the time; it'll be like you're living all on your own," offered Don with a wry smirk.

"Don"

"Dad"

A stare-down contest began. Alan, having experience, age and memories of grounding his son many a time, was not worried. As he'd hoped, Don broke first:

"Look, what do you want from me Dad?" Don finally asked. "If it's about me not coming over enough, that can be easily remedied. How about dinner at the house this Saturday?"

"Oh, you mean the Saturday your brother is up in Palo Alto because of a symposium at Stanford?"

Don quirked an eyebrow. "Like you said, Dad, I haven't spoken to Charlie in a while. How on earth could I possibly know he's out-of-town this weekend?" He disappeared into his room before emerging a moment later with a jacket in one hand, cell-phone, wallet and gun in the other, the former of which he draped over a chair.

Because Larry and Amita are also going with Charlie, which means Megan must have mentioned it, thought Alan as he watched his son clip the tools of his trade to his belt.

"How about we try something a little earlier? Charlie doesn't leave for Stanford until Friday," suggested Alan.

"I'd love to, Dad, but I really can't make any commitments until the weekend. Annual review is coming up which means half the agents who aren't in the field will be getting paper cuts from all the last-minute paperwork that needs to get done." Don pulled the jacket off the chair and shrugged into in, his right arm immediately going for the cup of coffee on the counter-top before he'd even finished putting his jacket on.

"Interesting," Alan murmured.

"Not really," replied Don although he knew that wasn't what his father meant. He plopped down on the arm chair next to the couch Alan was sitting on and fixed his father with an innocent stare.

"Hmm" Alan covered his mouth with the fingers of one hand as he thought about his next move. "Charlie hasn't consulted on a case of yours lately, I've noticed."

Don rolled his eyes. "That's because there hasn't been a case which needs his expertise lately, Dad. We only call him in for a select few cases; we can handle the rest on our own just fine."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Alan hurriedly rushed to add. "I wasn't implying you can't get by without his math skills but still…"

"Still what, Dad?" Don asked. "You really think I would jeopardize a case because of something personal between me and Charlie?"

"So you admit there's something the matter between you and Charlie?" Alan pounced.

Don sighed. "No, I haven't – I was speaking hypothetically. I still don't know why you're working yourself up over something you think has happened."

"Well son of mine, you'll excuse me for worrying a little over the fact that perhaps my sons will stop acting like brothers as soon as I'm not around them together." Alan pre-empted his son's indignant reply by quickly adding: "I mean, I go to Arizona to help Stan on a consulting job for a few days and for the three weeks since I've been back, you haven't visited the house once, your brother doesn't seem to know what's going on with you at all or where you've been."

Don, to his credit, listened to this quietly before smiling slightly then asking, "So I assume the credit for this goes to your new found Spidey-Sense?"

"No, it comes with the sense of being a parent," shot back Alan. He knew Don would be the harder of the two siblings to break but damn if Charlie hadn't picked up a trick or two from his elder brother, not boding well for Alan in this situation.

Don glanced quickly at his wrist-watch before standing up. "Look Dad, I don't know what to tell you, you're freaking out over nothing. Now, I've got to work, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like, just lock up when you leave, alright? And let me know if we're doing dinner on Saturday or not."

With a quick pat on his father's shoulder, Don had picked up his car keys from the kitchen counter-top and walked out the front door, firmly shutting it behind him.

"Well, that went well," spoke Alan out loud in the empty and silent apartment.

TBC

Barring any complications, the next chapter should be up tomorrow night. Your thoughts, as always, are appreciated.