Disappearing Act
Written by major-megan-fan03 AKA math_geek10

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Numb3rs. In fact, the only things I do own are Emma (an original character) and the plot. Want Em’s bio? Check out my profile!

NOTE: Emma is only 15 years old, which technically isn’t old enough to be in the field. Therefore, I am declaring this a slight AU.

“Oh my gosh, Charlie, I haven’t laughed this hard in years.” Emma took another bite of her cotton candy, burying her face in the swirling sugar.
“Yeah, well, you know how we mathematicians can kill a crowd.” Charlie put his arm around his young cohort’s shoulders.
“Dude, I cannot believe you gave that kid a lecture on the probability that he wouldn’t win the ring toss.” Emma looked over at one tent that seemed to be attracting a lot of attention. It was dark blue, and she wouldn’t have noticed it had it not been for the massive line. She dragged Charlie over to a woman who seemed a little too eager for such a long line.
“Excuse me, miss?”
The lady whirled around, a white smile plastered on her face. “No offense, girlie, but you’re probably not going to get a ticket this late in the game.”
“What are you waiting for? It must be pretty important if you’re willing to withstand this insane line.”
“Oh yeah, it’s important.”
“And it is…?
“Alexander Masters. He’s an illusionist from New York. His sister lives out here, and she convinced him to do the carnival. Isn’t it exciting?”
“It would be if we knew who the guy was.” Charlie noted.
The woman’s jaw dropped. “How do you not know about Alexander Masters?”
“You said he was from New York?” Emma asked.
“Yeah.”
“That’s how.”
Despite the line, Emma and Charlie did get tickets. They were decent seats, too.
“Now, Charlie, no lecturing anybody on probability and physics and all that jazz. They’re here to enjoy themselves, not to get a math lesson.” Emma instructed.
“I promise.” Charlie said, laughing. Before either could start again, a round of applause acted as Alexander Master’s cue.
He kept his wardrobe toned down to a simple (and literal) black tie affair. Emma agreed that the man did have his looks going for him, but she still thought most of the women in the tent were WAY overreacting. She half expected them to spit shine his shoes.
Masters kept mostly to the original sleight of hand, card tricks and the like. The crowd was entertained, but Emma could see Charlie itching to ruin the illusion. She kept her laugh under her breath.
After about half an hour, the illusionist moved onto bigger things. He asked for a couple of volunteers, Charlie being one of them. Alexander told him to close his eyes, and then Alexander used post-hypnotic suggestion to convince Charlie he was freezing, and sure enough, Charlie came back shivering, even though it felt like ninety degrees in the tent.
“What math can strike that down?” Emma teased him, running her finger over the goosebumps on his arm.
Charlie was about to retort when someone stumbled to the edge of the stage. Emma noticed her right away. She had pretty blond hair, but her blue eyes were dull and glistening. Her arm was wrapped around her midsection.
“Alex…” she rasped, letting go of the curtain.
Masters turned to her, frowning. “Evie, it’s not…”
Suddenly, the girl collapsed, slamming into the stage with a hard THUD. Her arm fell away from her stomach, revealing a clear gun shot wound.
From there, everything fell apart. Everyone jumped from their seats, screaming and running for the door.
“Charlie, call Don!” Emma shouted as she pushed through the crowd. She figured enough people were calling 911.
When she got to Evie, she had the sudden urge to throw up. Her entire abdomen was covered in blood, and her eyelids were barely fluttering. Masters stood shell-shocked above her.
“Don’t just stand there. Move!” Emma commanded, kneeling down and checking for a pulse.
“Who are you?” Alexander asked, his voice shaky.
“FBI.” She answered, and then looked over her shoulder. “Charlie, did you get him?”
As Charlie ran over, Alexander recovered a bit. “You’re FBI?” he asked skeptically.
Emma grunted as she started chest compressions. “This isn’t the time to question my credibility.”
“He’s on his way.” Charlie answered.
“Great. Throw me a towel or something; we’ve got to get this bleeding stopped.
Charlie and Emma worked quickly, with Masters looking on in stunned silence. Emma kept constant pressure on the wound, but it only slowed the bleeding. Luckily, the tent’s crowd had thinned considerably. Emma wasn’t in the mood for dealing with a panic.