Title: Scenes From The Multiverse
Rating: PG
Words: 4x100
Prompt: numb3rs100  June Rewind Baseball, Data, Bug, Sidekick
Characters: Ensemble
Spoilers: 3.04 The Mole, 3.09 Hardball, 4.01 Trust Metric
Summary: Four universes that might have been.
Disclaimer: If I owned Numb3rs, Amita would have taken the Harvard job...

Baseball

"Hi, my name is Charlie Eppes."

"Eppes? You wouldn't be related to the Don Eppes who plays for the Boston Red Sox, would you?"

Charlie almost says no, but at the last moment his sense of family wins out over his sense of self-preservation.

"Yes, he's my brother."

"Wow, really? That's so cool! I saw him in that game against the Yankees, he kicked ass! Man, that home run... Do you think he'd sign a card for me?"

Charlie sighs and lets the adulation wash over him, wishing that for once he was the Eppes sibling people talked about.


Bug

This route is supposed to be safe, but there's a bug in the translation software, and they end up being target practise for al-Quaeda rocket launchers.

Colby's trapped in a burning Humvee, steel tight around his shoulder, the smell of burning flesh in the air. He's ready to see his Dad again when an arm reaches in and pulls him out.

Later, he tells his saviour, "Thanks, man. You saved my life. I owe you."

Staff Sergeant Don Eppes just smiles. "Nothing you wouldn't have done in my place, Granger. Buy me a beer and we'll call it even."


Sidekick

"This bastard is canny, courageous and smart." Megan hands each member of her team a thick folder.

"He took a small drug op and turned it into the biggest crime empire in the US. Add that to his second-in-command's background and connections, and we have ourselves a very dangerous pair of criminals. They've already taken over several cities, and now they're coming to Los Angeles."

She flicks the switch for the LCD screen, and two good-looking men in their mid-thirties grin back at the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Chessmasters- David Sinclair and Colby Granger." 
 


Data

Don flips through the new agent's file. Nothing out of the ordinary. Carter's twenty-nine, fresh from Quantico, a specialist in hand-to-hand combat. Afghanistan vet, too, which could be a problem. Still, it's an impressive resume, and Don can't afford to be choosy.

"Agent Carter reporting as ordered, sir," a voice says from behind him.

Don looks at his new agent, takes in the ramrod-stiff posture, the carefully blank expression, the steely glint in the green eyes.

"I'm Don Eppes. Nice to meet you, Agent Carter," he says, smiling down at her. "May I call you Colbie?"