Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or character therein. All characters are fictional, and should not be associated with any other person- real or imagined.
Author's note: I you're following DD, I am not letting it slide. I just ran into a slump and thought a couple happy fics would pull me back out again. It seems to have worked, and I should be posting soon.
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Robyn slid around Don, subtly jostling his hip with her own. She smiled when she heard him grimace, knowing that it was just enough to grab his interest, but not enough to make him lose control. Those moves would come later, she thought slyly.
They stood before a computer in his cubicle, running a list of numbers that Charlie had given them for the bank case they were working on.
"You're a mean woman," he whispered.
"Naughty, maybe. Mean, not quite yet." She reached over his back and grabbed a pen pegged on a string to the cubicle wall, pressing forward a little more than necessary, her breasts pressing against his shoulder and upper back.
"Why do I put up with this torture?" he moaned.
Positioning herself beside him again, Robyn replied, "Because you love it- and me, too."
"Oh, I almost forgot. With you screwing with me like that, it's an easy thing to do."
"Maybe you could keep your mind on other things if you avoided those kinds of double entendres." Robyn reached for the mouse, sliding her hand across Don's thigh in the process, eliciting a frustrated moan.
"I have got to get some space between us." He pressed his back against the cubicle wall and sidestepped out, thankful he hadn't touched an inch of Robyn's body, though he had almost knocked over a pile of reports balancing on the corner of his desk. They were one of many reasons that Don had been stuck working overtime for several weeks, as the manila folders were full of long forms that had yet to be completed.
"Don't do anything naughty without me," Robyn called after him as he walked towards the staff lounge at F.B.I. headquarters.
Don tried to keep his mind off Robyn, but it was a feat that was beyond him. Her scent still floated in the air and every breath he took filled him with her presence. With every step he took, his jeans tightened briefly along his leg, and he imagined it was her hand squeezing him in all the right places. And the cotton of his t-shirt was still stuck to his back where she had pressed against him, which was usually an uncomfortable feeling but one that sent ripples up and down his skin today.
Man, he thought, you've got it bad.
They had been dating for almost a year now, and things seemed as fresh and exciting as the first night they'd been together. Well, maybe not quite as exciting. Don noted that recently they had become stuck in a routine- every Tuesday and Saturday, and then Friday if neither one of them had to work late, which was never. Because he was an organization freak, the weekly schedule suited him just fine. However, Robyn had indicated she needed something more. And because they were going to address that need tonight, Thursday night, he thought with a grin, Robyn had spent the day stroking the desire between them, pumping it for all its worth in anticipation of their foray that night.
Don had no idea where they were going. Robyn told him it was a secret. But he sure knew what they were going to be doing, and he had to admit, he was more than intrigued.
He was all het up.
The only thing she did tell him was that he had to slick his hair back with mousse, wear his black jeans, a white t-shirt, and his black leather jacket. Any other clothing was optional. She was going to leave the office earlier than him, and he would pick her up at home. Until then, he could only imagine what she had in store. Unfortunately for Don, his imagination was vivid, and standing a few inches from Robyn, especially with her touching him like that, was too much for him to take. As he turned toward the staff lounge, he decided to forego the coffee and grab a bottle of water.
Ice cold water.
"Ooo- I'm so tough. I worked in fugitive recovery for two hundred years. I would have gotten out earlier only I got lost and they had to send someone to recover me."
Some light chuckling made the rounds throughout the meeting room located across the hall from the staff lounge.
"Ooo- Charlie, I need help. I don't understand how to analyze this list of numbers. If I don't figure it out soon, I might accidentally pay an extra dime for somebody else's lunch."
Loud bursts of laughter filled the meeting room.
"Ooo- Robyn, I'm so glad you can keep a secret. I'm the bureau's superhero and you're the only one who knows I wear tights under my jeans."
Crisp laughter and light clapping spilled out of the meeting room and into the bullpen.
"Ooo"-
"Colby, I hope you have an explanation for this?" Don stepped two feet into the room, his meanest scowl cutting a clear path through the jovial atmosphere to land right at the feet of the younger agent.
Colby gulped.
He had been assigned to give fifteen new recruits a tour of their department. It had, of course, been a boring assignment. Colby had led the group of men throughout the bullpen, describing each section and giving an overview of their current assignments, attempting to make the work sound as interesting as possible. But what the day really boiled down to was him showing a bunch of early-twenties-right-out-of-spoiled-rich-kid-college-wannabes how a typical office works. And it hadn't taken long for his audience to start yawning and looking at their watches. They were clearly unimpressed with their department, and more importantly, at least to Colby, with the man who was their guide.
This bothered Colby, because he knew the recruits had nothing on him. He had not grown up rich, but he hadn't been anything near poor, either. And unlike them, he had not chosen to go directly into the F.B.I.; he had opted to do something he felt was honorable and beyond compare, and that was to join the military. After serving time in Afghanistan and having gotten in his fair share of licks with the Bureau, Colby was convinced that they should have been impressed, if not with the office, then with the war veteran and cocky agent who was trying to keep their attention. But they refused to show him even a little bit of appreciation.
That is, until they had come to this meeting room and one of them had asked Colby about the man who ran their department- Special Agent Don Eppes. He wasn't sure how, but Colby had gone from describing Don as a friend to describing him as a boss, inspired by the unwanted-but-still-there need to gain their approval, and sure enough, it being the end of the workday and spurred on by the agents' sudden smiles and attentiveness, he had found himself doing the typical impersonation of his superior that so many workers worldwide tended to do of their own. Only, most workers knew to be a little more careful. Like, making sure their boss was not within a two-floor range of wherever they were mocking him, and definitely being careful enough to lock the door of wherever they were performing. They were common sense precautions that all workers were well-informed about.
Unfortunately, Colby had missed those memos.
"Just, uh, showing these new men where we have meetings, that's all." Colby ignored the smirks suddenly appearing on the faces of the men before him.
"Really, that's interesting." Don took three more steps forward. "Because, for a minute there, I thought, now get this 'cause you're really going to laugh, I actually thought you may have been making fun of me." Don laid his hand on his chest as emphasis.
"Oh, no Don- I would never, ever even begin to get the tiniest little thought about doing something like that."
"Really, that's interesting," Don repeated. Then he strode forward until he was almost nose to nose with Colby. Don was a shade shorter than him, but he more than made up the difference in height with his authoritative stance. "I may be wrong, Granger, but I'm sure I heard you mention fugitive recovery. Do you know someone else who's worked in fugitive recovery?"
Colby glanced at the faces of the young agents sitting behind Don. They were all grinning and Colby knew why: he was about to be reamed.
Not wanting to disappoint, Don spent the next ten minutes assaulting Colby with a verbal onslaught that was so harsh the younger agent thought it would have been less painful if Don had chosen to use his fists. Throughout the tirade, Colby's eyes darted from Don's to those of the recruits, who had all opted to remain in the room; he was angered to know that now they would not only have little respect, if any, for him, but he was sure that he had become easy fodder for any jokes they would make amongst themselves in the future.
Don finished Colby's dressing down by saying, "I'm not sure what consequence is appropriate in this situation, Colby, but trust me, when I decide what it is, you'll be the first to know." With that ominous warning, Don turned and stormed from the room.
Colby waved the recruits away, sullenly sinking into a seat as his imagination was as vivid as Don's, and he easily conjured up all types of painful punishment, deciding the worst one was desk duty doing paperwork- piles and piles of it, no end in sight.
When Don got back to his cubicle, his fuse had already burned out, his mind quickly back on his date that night. He was puzzled but thankful when he saw that Robyn was no longer at his desk; she had written him a note reminding him to pick her up in an hour. Don glanced at the time, surprised it was almost six o'clock. Looking about his desk, he noticed the large stack of folders still sitting on its corner. Smiling, Don picked them up and walked three cubicles down, depositing them on Colby's desk, knowing no explanations or directions would be required. As an afterthought, though, he left a personal message:
Consider this a hard lesson learned- never mess with a superior.
Back at his desk, Don noticed another note stuck to the computer. It was an order from Merrick to stop by his office on his way out.
"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Don stepped into Merrick's office at his invitation.
"Yes, Don, it's about these new recruits. They've been given the full tour of the Bureau offices, and now, at the request of Director Donaldson, he would like them to familiarize themselves with other aspects of the legal system, specifically, the courts."
"Are you asking me to take them to a trial?" Don asked.
"Well, it doesn't have to be any specific trial. If they can just get inside a courtroom, they'll be able to see how important the proper handling of evidence is when it is used during the actual prosecution stage."
"Fine, I'll set up a field trip for next Wednesday."
"No, Don. I want it done tomorrow morning. Donaldson's coming early next week and I would like him to know that we fulfilled his request."
Don sat thinking about this for a few minutes. If he and Robyn had a good time that night, and he was certain they would, getting up early the next morning was not something he would be looking forward to; as a matter of fact, he had planned on calling off sick, so getting out of bed hadn't even been an option worth considering. Perplexed by his predicament, Don tried to think of a reason for opting out of the assignment without displeasing Merrick.
Then he remembered Colby.
"Sir, is it required that I escort the recruits myself?"
"Well, no Don, the director did not specify a particular agent. I only assumed you would want the assignment."
"Normally that would be the case, but quite frankly, I haven't been feeling too well," he lied through his teeth, "I was feeling a little hot earlier this evening, and am afraid that I may have to call off tomorrow."
"That's unusual," Merrick eyed him distrustfully, "I've never known you to call off before, but if you have someone else in mind?"
"Yes," Don grinned. "I most certainly do."
As Don was packing up to leave, Colby came around the corner of the cubicle, a file in his hand. "We have to talk, Don."
"No," Don straightened up. "There is nothing left to discuss. You're stuck with that assignment- I'm not giving it to someone else."
"But, Don. I don't want to play babysitter to a bunch of newbies. They were a pain in the ass today, and they'll be a pain in the ass tomorrow. I don't even see the point in all of this."
"Colby," Don crossed his arms and leaned against his desk, wanting to make sure everyone could see who was boss, replaying Merrick's words from earlier, "Every new recruit needs to completely familiarize himself with the legal system, and that includes the courts. I'm sorry that the assignment is not one that interests you, but I'm not giving it to someone else."
"But Don, I have all this paperwork to do."
"But Colby, you wouldn't have all this paperwork to do if you didn't waste so much of your time performing for the troops."
Colby shook the file at Don. "This isn't fair. I'm receiving two punishments for one behavior."
"Actually," Don noted as he grabbed his jacket and prepared to leave, "I could give you one for each comment you made."
Colby wasn't sure exactly how much of his act Don had caught, but he chanced further discipline by trying to appeal to him as one man to another. "Don, I have a hot date tonight- you know Julie over in accounting? She finally agreed to go out with me, and I was planning to call in late tomorrow, you know what I mean."
Don was about to respond, but Charlie appeared, carrying his laptop. "Hey, Don, I hope you don't mind me showing up so late- I wanted to see how far you got with that bank case"-
"I'm sorry, but I was about to leave. Would you mind working on your own for a while?"
"Sure, I work faster that without you guys helping anyway."
Don and Colby rolled their eyes.
While Charlie began setting up, Colby attempted to sway Don once again. "Come on, have a heart. You have a girlfriend already- you gotta share the wealth."
"Colby," Don said, patting him on the back, "sometimes it can be painful learning the meaning of the word respect." Then he took off, leaving a fuming Colby behind him.
"What's the matter?" Charlie asked while he fiddled with the computer.
"What's the matter? I'll tell you what's the matter- your brother has no sense of humor."
"Really?" Charlie faked a surprised look, letting his eyes go wide.
"Yeah, really." Colby sat in Don's seat, sulking. "So what if I did an impromptu impersonation of Don? Does he actually think nobody else makes fun of him- I mean, he's the boss? No one means anything by it and everybody does it, so why should I be different?"
"You don't have to be different," Charlie pointed out. "But you do have to be more careful."
"Yeah, well you're about ten seconds too late with that advice."
