Title: The Lamp
Author: loozy
Pairing/Characters: Alan pov, Margarete, Don & Charlie
Rating: PG- 13/ K+
Summary: When they got married, Aunt Irene got them a lamp.
Alan hated the lamp out of principle and wanted it in the attic, the garbage, anywhere but where he could see it.
Word Count: 249
Spoilers: none
Notes/Warnings: Just a wee ficlet that came to mind when I was trying to write job applications...
Prompt/Challenge (if applicable): none
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fic. Numb3rs and everybody associated with it belongs to Cheryl Heuton & Nick Fallucci and CBS. I'm just having fun.
Feedback: Yes, please. I love all criticism, as long as it is constructed and helpful.

The Lamp

When they got married, Aunt Irene got them a lamp.

Alan hated the lamp out of principle and wanted it in the attic, the garbage, anywhere but where he could see it. Margarete loved the thing, as Alan called it because he did not think that this monstrosity qualified as a lamp, and wanted it prominently displayed in the living room where everybody could see it.

And because Alan loved Margarete, he sat through glaring at the thing in the evenings. Or he just concentrated on his family, or in the early days, the making of his family. In bed, sated and sleepy, he would sometimes dream up scenarios in which he got rid of the abomination of everything that represented lamps, in a clever and intriguing way.

At some point, he forgot about his immense, intense dislike of the lamp, though, as other things, like Donnie and Charlie, became more important.

That is, until Charlie was two years old.

Charlie, in a bout of curiosity, pulled on the cord of the lamp. The lamp crashed down to the floor. Alan was reading a newspaper, and upon hearing the breaking of the thing, he looked up, and couldn't help but rejoice.

Until he saw that the lamp had fallen on Donnie's naked foot and one of the shards was embedded it.

The resulting trip to the emergency room made the demise of the thing not as much of a happy event as Alan had always imagined it to be.