Title: Only One

Disclaimers:Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.

Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up:a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. 'How much damage could one do?' CWDA.

Warnings: Mild language and violence in later chapters.

This story is set post season 3, but you know, I'm not gonna lie: I really hate Liz so for my purposes, she's not working at the FBI. Sorry.

Charlie's bike skidded to halt in front of his house. His house. The warm sunshine of yesterday had descended into a dark, storm-cloud blown sky that seemed ominously dark in the distant.

As Charlie jumped off the bike and made his way to the front door, his cell phone began to ring. Stumbling with his backpack and handfuls of folders, he fumbled for his phone. Quickly looking at the call display before he picked up, he discovered that -no surprise- it was Don.

'Hey,' he answered cheerfully.

'Hey, Chuck. Whatcha doin'?' Don asked casually.

Charlie began walking toward the door again, cradling the phone against his shoulder. 'I just got home, why?'

'Oh, no reason. But hey, I'm free tonight, so I thought I'd swing by to visit my favorite brother.'

And only, thought Charlie ruefully. 'Uh, ya, sure, that sounds great. Dad's making... uh, I don't know, kebobs or something. Ya, I'll look forward to it.'

'Great, bud. I'll see you then, alright?' Don sounded distracted.

'Yup, ok, see ya.' Charlie said, then flipped the phone shut. He opened the great wooden front door of the house and stepped in to the smell of cooking meat.

'Charlie.' Alan walked into the front room with a skewer and a red bell pepper.

'Whoa. I come in peace.' Charlie joked. Alan smiled as he gazed out the door to the almost black clouds. I hope it doesn't rain on the new paint... How stupid are you, painting before a storm?

'Ooh, looks bad.' He commented absently as he returned to the kitchen. Charlie threw his books and bag down on the couch and heading to the kitchen as well. He took in the aromatic scent of roasting peppers and beef. It is so nice to have a cook in the family, Charlie mused.

'So how was school today?' Alan asked over a skillet.

'Well, not bad by any means. There was-' Charlie was interrupted by a loud ringing in his pants pocket. He pulled out the phone and saw it was Don again. 'Hold on, Dad. It's Don.' Charlie flipped open the phone and answered.

'Charlie, man, I got car trouble.'

'You're talking to the wrong person, Don.' Charlie said while smiling.

'Oh, yeah, I forgot, you drive a bike to work, don't you?' Don teased, Charlie could almost the smile on his face too. 'Anyway, I can't get the thing to start at all, and, hell, it's Friday evening, I'm beat. Can you or Dad just come pick me up at the office?'

Charlie looked at Alan. 'Uh, ya, sure. I'll be there soon.'

Alan watched as Charlie shut his phone, waiting for an explanation.

Charlie shrugged at his father with the same errant smile Alan had always adored. 'Car troubles.'


Charlie jumped into his little, fuel-efficient Honda and pulled out of the driveway. In the distance the stunning thunderheads spiked lightning like darts. The rain hadn't fallen yet, but the clouds threatened. Charlie had always been impartial to thunderstorms. As a child, they had scared him, sending him to his brother's room to hind under the covers with Don. That was usually when Don kicked him out.

Charlie smiled somewhat sardonically to himself. Him and Don had grown up on totally different planets, and here they were now, working together to rid L.A. Of its most ruthless criminals.

Sure enough, the grey and dark clouds above let one tiny drop fall to the ground. The one lone drip of condensed water in the air fell alone, away from the pack. It was the first to descend to the unknown abyss below the hovering clouds. As it fell what seemed like an eternity it appeared a small offset to the observer. It was only one drop of rain, of water, a tear falling from the heavens. Only one drop, how much damage could one do? As soon it hit the ground though, the drops above knew that it was safe to go. Then the torrential downpour would begin. All it took was one small, tiny catalyst to get things moving in a completely different direction.


A/N- Sorry for the short length. / I just wanted the first chapter to be short and sweet, kind of ominous. This is my first fic, I'm not too strong in this whole writing deal, so I need all the help I can get! Please let me know what you think of it- good or bad, everything helps a writer! Reviews are like candy- or should I say Charlie! I promise Charliewhumping soon with a helping of angst.