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perpetual_motionTitle: The Difference Between
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing: Larry/Charlie [implied]
Rating: PG
Summary: Amita, Charlie, and an annoyance in a little green skirt.
Dis: Not mine. Lied.
Author’s Notes: For the friendship prompt in fanfic100. Also, I wanted to write an Amita story where she came out all right, because she’s kind of been growing on me.
The Difference Between
By Perpetual Motion
She’s wearing a hot pink shirt and a little green skirt, and it takes every ounce of professionalism that Amita has not to smack her and tell her to put on some goddamned clothes. She’s a math major, not a bimbo, and dressing the way she does isn’t going to win her any points with Charlie. Although, the way she leans over the desk, she seems to think it might.
“Professor Eppes, I was wondering if you could explain that last theorem to me again. I didn’t quite get it.”
Amita watches the way Charlie smiles with his mouth but not with his eyes and the way his fingers curl around his pen, and she wonders if she ever made him this uncomfortable when she was still trying; back before she finally gave up and got a clue and figured out that Charlie was always with Larry because Charlie was *with* Larry. She hopes not, because then the anger she feels at this flouncy thing with her wispy bangs and squeaky flip flops is really the anger she has at herself for having such a huge blind spot when it came to a couple of cute nerds and their actual relationship.
“You seemed to have a strong idea of it when I called on you in class, Erica.”
“But I’m a little confused about the second part of it.” She flips her hair, and Amita sees red. The stupid questions, she can deal with. The stupid clothes she can chalk up to bad taste. But the hair flip, the hair flip tears it, and Amita’s calling an end to this whole, disgusting thing.
“Charlie?” Amita doesn’t miss the grateful look that flashes across his face when she speaks. “Do you have anything else for me to grade? I’ve got to get out of here and get ready for tonight.” She gives him the smile she used to give him; the one she’d hoped would make him notice her in the way she wanted.
“Um…” Charlie shuffles through the papers on his desk. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“All right.” Amita picks up the stack she has, tucks it against her forearm and elbow, and shoulders her backpack. “I’ll start these in your office.” As she walks behind him, she slides her fingers over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” She doesn’t put any meaningful inflection in her voice, but she sees the glare from Erica and knows she’s made her point. She waits just around the bend in the hallway and hears squeaky flip flops hurrying in the other direction at the same time as Charlie rounds the corner and finds her leaning against the wall.
“Thanks.” He smiles at her, and she can’t help but return it with a smile of her own.
“You can really be clueless sometimes, Charlie.” She pushes off the wall and falls into step with him. “I’m not always going to be there to save you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?” Amita’s pretty sure that she knows what he’s going to say.
“The whole ‘flirting with the teacher’ thing. They’re here to *learn*, right?”
Amita laughs. She can’t help it. When Charlie gives her a confused look, she manages to gasp out one word between her chuckles. “Larry.”
“Larry’s different.”
“Why?” She’s still laughing.
“Because he’s-“ Charlie stops talking abruptly and squeezes his eyes shut. “Never mind.”
Amita, still riding the endorphin spike from her laughter, pokes Charlie in the ribs. “Come on, admit it. You flirted with him when you were a student.”
“It’s different.”
“Why? Flirting’s flirting.”
“But-but-“
Amita grins and puts her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “But he’s Larry.”
“I-well-but…yeah.” Charlie’s blush is just sweet enough to keep Amita from teasing him further.
“Yeah.” She nudges him with her shoulder and grins when he looks at her. Six months ago it would have hurt to be this close and know that it was as close as she’d get, but she’s doing okay. Charlie’s still Charlie, and Larry’s still Larry, and she’s still herself. Maybe a little better now that she’s gotten with the program, maybe a little more focused, but her underlying affection for Charlie is still there, and she’s glad to know that she wasn’t one of those green skirt girls with their hair flips. Erica may flirt, but Amita has a friend, and she’ll watch his back until the hot pink tops stop coming after him.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing: Larry/Charlie [implied]
Rating: PG
Summary: Amita, Charlie, and an annoyance in a little green skirt.
Dis: Not mine. Lied.
Author’s Notes: For the friendship prompt in fanfic100. Also, I wanted to write an Amita story where she came out all right, because she’s kind of been growing on me.
The Difference Between
By Perpetual Motion
She’s wearing a hot pink shirt and a little green skirt, and it takes every ounce of professionalism that Amita has not to smack her and tell her to put on some goddamned clothes. She’s a math major, not a bimbo, and dressing the way she does isn’t going to win her any points with Charlie. Although, the way she leans over the desk, she seems to think it might.
“Professor Eppes, I was wondering if you could explain that last theorem to me again. I didn’t quite get it.”
Amita watches the way Charlie smiles with his mouth but not with his eyes and the way his fingers curl around his pen, and she wonders if she ever made him this uncomfortable when she was still trying; back before she finally gave up and got a clue and figured out that Charlie was always with Larry because Charlie was *with* Larry. She hopes not, because then the anger she feels at this flouncy thing with her wispy bangs and squeaky flip flops is really the anger she has at herself for having such a huge blind spot when it came to a couple of cute nerds and their actual relationship.
“You seemed to have a strong idea of it when I called on you in class, Erica.”
“But I’m a little confused about the second part of it.” She flips her hair, and Amita sees red. The stupid questions, she can deal with. The stupid clothes she can chalk up to bad taste. But the hair flip, the hair flip tears it, and Amita’s calling an end to this whole, disgusting thing.
“Charlie?” Amita doesn’t miss the grateful look that flashes across his face when she speaks. “Do you have anything else for me to grade? I’ve got to get out of here and get ready for tonight.” She gives him the smile she used to give him; the one she’d hoped would make him notice her in the way she wanted.
“Um…” Charlie shuffles through the papers on his desk. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“All right.” Amita picks up the stack she has, tucks it against her forearm and elbow, and shoulders her backpack. “I’ll start these in your office.” As she walks behind him, she slides her fingers over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” She doesn’t put any meaningful inflection in her voice, but she sees the glare from Erica and knows she’s made her point. She waits just around the bend in the hallway and hears squeaky flip flops hurrying in the other direction at the same time as Charlie rounds the corner and finds her leaning against the wall.
“Thanks.” He smiles at her, and she can’t help but return it with a smile of her own.
“You can really be clueless sometimes, Charlie.” She pushes off the wall and falls into step with him. “I’m not always going to be there to save you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?” Amita’s pretty sure that she knows what he’s going to say.
“The whole ‘flirting with the teacher’ thing. They’re here to *learn*, right?”
Amita laughs. She can’t help it. When Charlie gives her a confused look, she manages to gasp out one word between her chuckles. “Larry.”
“Larry’s different.”
“Why?” She’s still laughing.
“Because he’s-“ Charlie stops talking abruptly and squeezes his eyes shut. “Never mind.”
Amita, still riding the endorphin spike from her laughter, pokes Charlie in the ribs. “Come on, admit it. You flirted with him when you were a student.”
“It’s different.”
“Why? Flirting’s flirting.”
“But-but-“
Amita grins and puts her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “But he’s Larry.”
“I-well-but…yeah.” Charlie’s blush is just sweet enough to keep Amita from teasing him further.
“Yeah.” She nudges him with her shoulder and grins when he looks at her. Six months ago it would have hurt to be this close and know that it was as close as she’d get, but she’s doing okay. Charlie’s still Charlie, and Larry’s still Larry, and she’s still herself. Maybe a little better now that she’s gotten with the program, maybe a little more focused, but her underlying affection for Charlie is still there, and she’s glad to know that she wasn’t one of those green skirt girls with their hair flips. Erica may flirt, but Amita has a friend, and she’ll watch his back until the hot pink tops stop coming after him.
