DreamBrother
06-19-2007, 10:48 PM
Link to Part 4:
http://www.fanrush.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8187
Author: DreamBrother
Disclaimer: Numb3rs, nor the Pink Panther, are mine. Don’t sue.
Author’s Note: No Flake, but Buttons. Let’s see how this one turns out. There was thunder and lightning and lots of rain today, so I’m in the mood for angst. Hope this isn’t too much like Sensory Overload and Deprivation. Angst also a result of too much listening to Brother by Alice in Chains, but that song is awesome, angst aside. Btw, Dreyfus was Clouseau's boss who was slowly driven crazy by Clouseau over the course of the series. Can you blame him?
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C is for Cat Burglar (Part V)
Cato moved expertly around the house. He didn’t have to worry about any problems from the Eppes; one was too busy bleeding, the other one too busy trying to stop the bleeding, match made in heaven. However, Cato knew a thing or two about gunshot wounds, and right now, he knew he had to be fast or else the cops wouldn’t be searching for a robber in the morning, but a murderer. An ambulance would take time coming, this was LA after all, and the agent looked like he needed all the help that he could get. Already a formidable pool of blood had formed under the agent’s body; despite the curly headed brothers’ best efforts. He had decided to place all that he was going to take by the door, so he could then quickly load the car and get out of Pasadena, and maybe L.A.
He moved towards the TV, noticing that the younger brother was watching him carefully, nervousness and anxiety etched onto his features, as well as managing to maintain a glare at all times, directed towards him. You had to give the kid props for conveying so much, so silently. He spared a moments notice towards the movie that had been playing, unconcerned with what was happening to some real life characters. He chuckled softly at the bit of dialogue that he caught:
Clouseau: There is something... personal... in this?
Dreyfus: Yes, deeply personal. I hate you! Every little bit of you! Now get out!
Clouseau: You want me to leave?
He might not be the Clouseau of this tale, but his exit was deeply desired, of that he was certain. But this was nothing personal; it was just plain old bad luck for the Eppes boys tonight. If they had stayed out a bit longer, none of this would have happened. And he had the bad luck of choosing a house habited by a FBI agent, a bachelor pad no less, with no jewelry in sight.
“You want me to take the movie out of the DVD player? It’s the least I can do,” offered Cato cheekily. Shooting people always made him tense, and he hadn’t shot an average Joe, and he handled tension with the grace of a ticked off grandmother i.e. not well.
Ah, there was that glare again. He was glad he had the gun in his hands and the Fed’s gun wasn’t nearby. Seeing as he wasn’t about to be dignified with a reply, he moved on, quickly disconnecting the wires and placing all the machinery near the door, although the plasma TV required a bit of effort.
Charlie had turned his attention back to his brother after the thief’s snark. First, it’s his brother commenting on the benefit of bleeding on a wooden floor over a carpeted one, and now the thief decides to become a comedian. Today was not his day.
However, any thoughts regarding how his day was going were dismissed at his brother’s deteriorating condition. If he thought Don was pale before, he now gave new meaning to the term ‘translucent’. Where as before Don’s eyes had been alert, albeit clouded with pain and worry, they were now less focused than before. His brother was drifting. Time for some stimulating conversation.
Charlie gently prodded his brother in the shoulder and chided, “Hey, no sleeping during our feature presentation. What kind of guest are you?”
“Not sleeping, bro, you’re kinda pressing a bit hard into my side for me to sleep,” Don paused to take a deep breath before continuing, “And when did I become a guest? An hour ago, you wanted to charge me rent.”
“A lot can change in an hour,” replied Charlie, his fear and concern telegraphed by his voice but before his brother could say anything he added, “but it looks like our dear cat burglar is about to leave soon. There’s not much else he can take unless he’s in the mood to auction off my math textbooks and Dad’s old blueprints.”
“Dad… any chance we can delay his coming home by a couple more days? You know, until Megan and everyone can track this guy down and get the house normal looking again,” wondered Don, deliberately not mentioning himself in any future plans, at the moment, he could make no promises.
“I’m pretty sure we can handle the house make-over but I think Dad will notice that one son is spending a lot of time at a hospital visiting his other son who is a patient with a gun shot wound to the side,” retorted Charlie. To him, the thought of Don being anywhere other than in the hospital in the coming days was not a thought he was willing to entertain.
“Appendix?” suggested Don, ever hopeful. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to his father that despite having a son in law enforcement, he had been robbed during his absence and his sons threatened while aforementioned FBI son did nothing except discolor the floor.
Before Charlie could reply, they were interrupted by Cato, who had managed to put his newly acquired possessions in his newly acquired Toyota Prius without the brothers noticing.
“Well, hate to steal and run but you need to call for an ambulance more than I need to stay and chat. It was a pleasure doing business with you boys,” and with that departing statement, he slid the cordless phone across the floor towards Charlie, much like Charlie had slid their cell-phones towards him a while ago, and with a mock salute and whistling the Pink Panther tune, Cato left.
“Funny guy,” commented Don, eyes sliding shut as the adrenaline that had kept him awake for this long, for fear of what might happen to Charlie while he was unconscious, drained from his body.
Charlie was too busy dialing 911 to notice immediately his brother’s sudden desire to ‘rest his eyes’ and it was only after the emergency responder assured him that an ambulance would be there within ten minutes did he notice his brother’s attempted sojourn into la-la land.
Shaking a hand that was way too cool for his liking, Charlie said, “Hey, no dropping off before the final act. A big tough FBI agent like you can’t last through an entire movie?”
Without opening his eyes, Don stated “Cato left with Clouseau, movie’s over,”
“True, but I’m still around. And how’s this for incentive: stay awake until the doctors say you can sleep and I won’t tell everyone at the FBI office about that time in junior high that you would love to forget,”
“M’tired Chuck,” mumbled Don, “let me sleep.”
“Well I’m still hungry, but you don’t see me acting like a ‘cranky nutcase’, do you? Until I eat, you don’t sleep,” bargained Charlie. A small part of his brain wondered whether he was going through the five stages of grief, having fast-forwarded past denial, still lingering heavily on anger towards the thief but for the moment concentrating on bargaining with his brother. Two more to go, thought Charlie, before crushing that thought and locking it away for the time being.
However long the paramedics took, it still felt like an eternity to Charlie, as he stayed next to his brother, feeling helpless as he saw his brother slip deeper and deeper into shock, his pulse becoming weaker and faster by the minute, and his breaths coming faster but shallower. The paramedics couldn’t come soon enough; the brothers had left the restaurant too soon. The numbers would have told Charlie that the chances of another break-in, after the one that had happened about a month ago, would be next to nothing. Of all the things his numbers had predicted, they couldn’t have predicted this.
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So, what's the verdict? Should I revert back to Flakes or are the Buttons suiting you fine? I don't think I've ever written a chapter so sleepily before. Normal people would have coffee, I have chocolates. Tsk tsk. Not completely satisfied with this chapter, but had to post and be done with it. I'm not a patient person.
Hopefully, Chap VI will rock your world (but don't bet any Buttons on it). Reviews would be nice. I'm off to la-la land.
Oh and Fantastic 4 isn't that bad, had some nice funny bits. Still have to watch Spidy 3 and Pirates 3...
http://www.fanrush.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8187
Author: DreamBrother
Disclaimer: Numb3rs, nor the Pink Panther, are mine. Don’t sue.
Author’s Note: No Flake, but Buttons. Let’s see how this one turns out. There was thunder and lightning and lots of rain today, so I’m in the mood for angst. Hope this isn’t too much like Sensory Overload and Deprivation. Angst also a result of too much listening to Brother by Alice in Chains, but that song is awesome, angst aside. Btw, Dreyfus was Clouseau's boss who was slowly driven crazy by Clouseau over the course of the series. Can you blame him?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
C is for Cat Burglar (Part V)
Cato moved expertly around the house. He didn’t have to worry about any problems from the Eppes; one was too busy bleeding, the other one too busy trying to stop the bleeding, match made in heaven. However, Cato knew a thing or two about gunshot wounds, and right now, he knew he had to be fast or else the cops wouldn’t be searching for a robber in the morning, but a murderer. An ambulance would take time coming, this was LA after all, and the agent looked like he needed all the help that he could get. Already a formidable pool of blood had formed under the agent’s body; despite the curly headed brothers’ best efforts. He had decided to place all that he was going to take by the door, so he could then quickly load the car and get out of Pasadena, and maybe L.A.
He moved towards the TV, noticing that the younger brother was watching him carefully, nervousness and anxiety etched onto his features, as well as managing to maintain a glare at all times, directed towards him. You had to give the kid props for conveying so much, so silently. He spared a moments notice towards the movie that had been playing, unconcerned with what was happening to some real life characters. He chuckled softly at the bit of dialogue that he caught:
Clouseau: There is something... personal... in this?
Dreyfus: Yes, deeply personal. I hate you! Every little bit of you! Now get out!
Clouseau: You want me to leave?
He might not be the Clouseau of this tale, but his exit was deeply desired, of that he was certain. But this was nothing personal; it was just plain old bad luck for the Eppes boys tonight. If they had stayed out a bit longer, none of this would have happened. And he had the bad luck of choosing a house habited by a FBI agent, a bachelor pad no less, with no jewelry in sight.
“You want me to take the movie out of the DVD player? It’s the least I can do,” offered Cato cheekily. Shooting people always made him tense, and he hadn’t shot an average Joe, and he handled tension with the grace of a ticked off grandmother i.e. not well.
Ah, there was that glare again. He was glad he had the gun in his hands and the Fed’s gun wasn’t nearby. Seeing as he wasn’t about to be dignified with a reply, he moved on, quickly disconnecting the wires and placing all the machinery near the door, although the plasma TV required a bit of effort.
Charlie had turned his attention back to his brother after the thief’s snark. First, it’s his brother commenting on the benefit of bleeding on a wooden floor over a carpeted one, and now the thief decides to become a comedian. Today was not his day.
However, any thoughts regarding how his day was going were dismissed at his brother’s deteriorating condition. If he thought Don was pale before, he now gave new meaning to the term ‘translucent’. Where as before Don’s eyes had been alert, albeit clouded with pain and worry, they were now less focused than before. His brother was drifting. Time for some stimulating conversation.
Charlie gently prodded his brother in the shoulder and chided, “Hey, no sleeping during our feature presentation. What kind of guest are you?”
“Not sleeping, bro, you’re kinda pressing a bit hard into my side for me to sleep,” Don paused to take a deep breath before continuing, “And when did I become a guest? An hour ago, you wanted to charge me rent.”
“A lot can change in an hour,” replied Charlie, his fear and concern telegraphed by his voice but before his brother could say anything he added, “but it looks like our dear cat burglar is about to leave soon. There’s not much else he can take unless he’s in the mood to auction off my math textbooks and Dad’s old blueprints.”
“Dad… any chance we can delay his coming home by a couple more days? You know, until Megan and everyone can track this guy down and get the house normal looking again,” wondered Don, deliberately not mentioning himself in any future plans, at the moment, he could make no promises.
“I’m pretty sure we can handle the house make-over but I think Dad will notice that one son is spending a lot of time at a hospital visiting his other son who is a patient with a gun shot wound to the side,” retorted Charlie. To him, the thought of Don being anywhere other than in the hospital in the coming days was not a thought he was willing to entertain.
“Appendix?” suggested Don, ever hopeful. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to his father that despite having a son in law enforcement, he had been robbed during his absence and his sons threatened while aforementioned FBI son did nothing except discolor the floor.
Before Charlie could reply, they were interrupted by Cato, who had managed to put his newly acquired possessions in his newly acquired Toyota Prius without the brothers noticing.
“Well, hate to steal and run but you need to call for an ambulance more than I need to stay and chat. It was a pleasure doing business with you boys,” and with that departing statement, he slid the cordless phone across the floor towards Charlie, much like Charlie had slid their cell-phones towards him a while ago, and with a mock salute and whistling the Pink Panther tune, Cato left.
“Funny guy,” commented Don, eyes sliding shut as the adrenaline that had kept him awake for this long, for fear of what might happen to Charlie while he was unconscious, drained from his body.
Charlie was too busy dialing 911 to notice immediately his brother’s sudden desire to ‘rest his eyes’ and it was only after the emergency responder assured him that an ambulance would be there within ten minutes did he notice his brother’s attempted sojourn into la-la land.
Shaking a hand that was way too cool for his liking, Charlie said, “Hey, no dropping off before the final act. A big tough FBI agent like you can’t last through an entire movie?”
Without opening his eyes, Don stated “Cato left with Clouseau, movie’s over,”
“True, but I’m still around. And how’s this for incentive: stay awake until the doctors say you can sleep and I won’t tell everyone at the FBI office about that time in junior high that you would love to forget,”
“M’tired Chuck,” mumbled Don, “let me sleep.”
“Well I’m still hungry, but you don’t see me acting like a ‘cranky nutcase’, do you? Until I eat, you don’t sleep,” bargained Charlie. A small part of his brain wondered whether he was going through the five stages of grief, having fast-forwarded past denial, still lingering heavily on anger towards the thief but for the moment concentrating on bargaining with his brother. Two more to go, thought Charlie, before crushing that thought and locking it away for the time being.
However long the paramedics took, it still felt like an eternity to Charlie, as he stayed next to his brother, feeling helpless as he saw his brother slip deeper and deeper into shock, his pulse becoming weaker and faster by the minute, and his breaths coming faster but shallower. The paramedics couldn’t come soon enough; the brothers had left the restaurant too soon. The numbers would have told Charlie that the chances of another break-in, after the one that had happened about a month ago, would be next to nothing. Of all the things his numbers had predicted, they couldn’t have predicted this.
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So, what's the verdict? Should I revert back to Flakes or are the Buttons suiting you fine? I don't think I've ever written a chapter so sleepily before. Normal people would have coffee, I have chocolates. Tsk tsk. Not completely satisfied with this chapter, but had to post and be done with it. I'm not a patient person.
Hopefully, Chap VI will rock your world (but don't bet any Buttons on it). Reviews would be nice. I'm off to la-la land.
Oh and Fantastic 4 isn't that bad, had some nice funny bits. Still have to watch Spidy 3 and Pirates 3...