Author's note: I do not own Numb3rs or its characters. This is set at the after Protest and Running Man.

You've Got Mail

With a sigh, Terry slumped into her favorite armchair. The monstrosity was ugly beyond belief, but it was so comfortable that she refused to give it up. Especially after the day she'd just had. It had been almost a month since she'd been transferred to D.C., and Terry still wasn't really settled in. Part of it was due to the fact that she had yet to be assigned permanently to any team. Truthfully, she really shouldn't have been transferred to D.C. in the first place. They didn't need her. However, her weasely ex-husband had pulled strings to get her transferred as a last ditch attempt to fix their relationship.

It was needless to say it hadn't worked. Making life altering decisions without consulting one's partner was not a recipe for a healthy relationship. Terry had very quickly broken any and all ties left with him after that. She had done her best to fit in here, but what really had kept her going had been her infrequent e-mails with Don. Infrequent because they both were people who nearly lived at work, but they tended to make up for that in length. When they had both been in L.A., they had caught dinner together at least once a month so they could vent. The e-mails had replaced dinner due to the distance between them, but they served the same purpose.

Terry sighed again and reached for the remote. She needed mindless entertainment. Settling on Muppet Show reruns on some random channel, Terry reached for her laptop. With any luck, she'd have an e-mail from Don waiting. That would be at least one nice thing that had happened today. It wasn't a bad day, but it hadn't been a good day either, and she was in need of some companionship. An e-mail wasn't Don, but it was as close as she was going to get right now, and she would take it.

She ordered a pizza while the laptop was booting up. It wasn't a gourmet dinner, but it would do. Besides, she was entitled to treat herself to junk food when she felt like it. Logging on to her e-mail, Terry was thrilled to find not one but two e-mails from Don waiting for her. Clicking on the first one, she bit back a smile. The subject line read: Help! Charlie is driving me nuts!

It seemed his new team members were beginning to settle in, and Charlie had asked Amita out finally. Apparently, the date didn't go so well, but at least it was a move in the right direction. There was also something interesting brewing between Megan, one of his new agents, and Charlie's friend Larry. Don wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was something.

The second e-mail had been sent earlier today, and the subject line read simply: Why me? She opened it to find the details of the last two cases Don had worked on. Or at least, his reactions to the last two cases he worked on. Apparently, they had brought up some links to Don's past that had bothered him. Well, not entirely. His mother's music was a good memory for Don. The fact that he could still play the piano, could play her music, was Don's way of remembering her. His connection that wasn't necessarily shared with his brother or his father. The music was just for him and his mom, and that was good for Don.

But the other case, with the bomber, had clearly caused Don a lot of turmoil. Between the tension with his dad and the stress of the case, it had clearly done a number on him. Don's strongest ties had always been to his father, and for him to be at odds with his dad over something was harder on him than he ever let on. She understood his feelings about what the Bureau had done. There were times when she was appalled by its tactics, past and present. Hell, her new team often made her wonder why she was still doing this job.

The pizza arrived, and Terry settled back down with a slice in one hand. Don sounded like he could use a laugh. Nibbling on her dinner, she hit reply.

"Don," the message started, "did I tell you about the great coffee switch? Two days ago, one of the assistant's in the building got fed up and set upon revenge…