Title: To Win a Bet

Author: liz_Z

E-mail: liz_Z@secret-agent.com

Category: Humor

Rating: PG

Spoilers: None

Season/Sequel info: Takes place whenever you want it to. ;)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own 'The Invisible Man'. That pleasure is reserved for Stu Segall Productions and the Sci-fi channel, although I would very much like to alter the latter...

Author's notes: I was requested to write a happier story in contrast to the angsty things I've posted lately, and my hormones were acting up, so I wrote this... I'm giving the guys fair warning, as they may want to give this fic a wide berth. Enjoy, ladies! ;)

Bobby Hobbes sat in his dressing room, casting an irritated look at the mirror and making a point to undo the top button of his shirt now that he was in private. This had not been what he meant when he had informed the Official he wanted higher-profile cases. He and Darien had just spent the weekend posing as male models at a fashion convention, so they could spy on a group of fashion designers who had been suspected of having illegal animal furs smuggled into the country for use in their designs.

Darien and Bobby had indeed gone undercover, although both had misgivings, and they had managed to apprehend the culprits responsible for the smuggling. However, the Official had refused to allow them to break their cover until after the fashion show had ended. He wanted to earn as much money as possible on this job, and if that meant having Darien and Hobbes prance around on the stage for another afternoon, so be it.

Naturally, Hobbes' opinion differed from the Official's. He didn't want to stay in this place any longer than was absolutely necessary. The clothes were all bizarre compared to his normal choice of attire, and having to strut his stuff in front of a bunch of people he had never met was just plain embarrassing. Not to mention the fact that he had to wear makeup. He HATED makeup!

A soft knock on the door put a halt to his train of thought. He turned and opened the door, surprised to find that he was face to face with Claire. She looked him up and down, an amused grin on her face. Hobbes frowned, looking down at the blue and black zebra-striped shirt and the tight leather pants he was wearing and then back up at Claire, the corners of his mouth twitching in exasperation. "What?"

Claire shook her head, trying to hold back a laugh. "That shirt doesn't quite suit you. Although I must admit, the pants are a different matter entirely."

Hobbes crossed his arms, shaking his head. "You think I enjoy dressing up like this? I feel like a toy poodle being primped up for the local dog show."

Just then Darien stepped into the room, wearing a fluorescent yellow shirt and a pair of lime-green cut offs. His hair was nowhere near as tall as usual, having been slicked back by the people who had done his makeup, and he looked simply miserable. He turned to Claire and struck a pose, asking in a sarcastic tone, "Aren't I pretty?"

Hobbes shook his head. "Don't go around saying things like that in public, Fawkes. People will think you're a fruit."

Darien gave Hobbes a disbelieving look. "Are you saying you think I'm gay?!"

"I'm saying I think that other people will think that if you don't stop giving them reason to think those sorts of thoughts."

Darien gave Hobbes a look that seemed to imply he was wondering whether or not Hobbes had taken his pills. Claire shook her head, although whether in amusement or annoyance Hobbes couldn't tell, and said, "Much as I'm enjoying this stimulating conversation... I came down here for another reason."

Hobbes raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

Claire grinned, a devilish expression that made Hobbes more than a little nervous. "Well, from what I've seen you don't like this undercover job, right?" Hobbes and Darien both nodded fervently. "And you'd like a chance to get even with the Official, right?" They nodded again. "And maybe make a little money on the side?" More nodding. Claire's grin widened. "Alright, then..." She proceeded to inform them on exactly what she wanted them to do, as well as the amount of money she would be willing to pay them if they managed to pull it off.

As soon as she finished speaking Darien shook his head, saying in an adament tone, "No way. No way am I doing anything that-"

Hobbes clapped a hand over Darien's mouth. "We'll do it."

**********

"So, we're really gonna do this, huh?" Hobbes asked, pacing behind the stage curtain and giving Darien a nervous look.

Darien nodded solemnly. "Damn straight."

Hobbes swallowed hard. "You know there's no turning back after we, umm... go out there..."

Darien groaned, rolling his eyes. "Come on Hobbes, you're the one that got us into this! I didn't want to, but noooooo, you had to go and say yes. Thought it was a great way to stick it to the Official."

"Yeah, well, I'm beginning to think it wasn't that great of a way after all."

Darien smirked. "Oh, now I get it. You're scared."

That hit a nerve; Hobbes' eyes narrowed and he turned to Darien, growling in a harsh tone, "Bobby Hobbes isn't scared of anything!"

"Then prove it!"

Hobbes didn't look very eager to do that. "But... but it's just so..."

"Degrading? Embarrassing? Stupid? Juvenile?"

"You're not helping."

"Hobbes. If you don't wanna do it, you don't have to. But I'm not reimbursing you if we lose the bet that YOU made in the first place."

Hobbes sighed and squared his shoulders. "Alright, alright!" He took a deep breath and then stepped out from behind the curtain and onto the theater stage. He was immediately deafened by the hoots and howls of a torrent of women, not to mention blinded by the flash bulbs of several dozen cameras. It was rather disconcerting, but not particularly surprising. He had just stepped onstage wearing nothing but a pair of royal purple boxers.

Hobbes just stood still for a moment, looking more than a little uncomfortable, and then glanced over at the place where Darien was supposed to be making his entrance. Darien was nowhere in sight. "Fawkes!" Hobbes hissed, glaring over at the space his partner had been occupying mere seconds earlier. "Get out here! I don't wanna do this on my own!"

"Right here beside you, buddy," Darien said, his voice much closer than Hobbes had expected. So close, in fact, that his breath tickled the hairs on the back of Hobbes' neck.

Hobbes rolled his eyes; judging from the proximity of the voice, as well as the sudden chill that seemed to be hanging in the air, there was no doubt in his mind that if he decided to turn to look over at his partner he wouldn't be able to see anything but an empty ramp. He turned and glared at what seemed to be thin air, muttering in an irritated tone, "You're not supposed to be invisible, you dupe!"

"What, you thought I'd just prance out onstage dressed like this?!" Hobbes could tell from Darien's tone that he had a cocky grin on his face. "I don't think so."

"Come on Fawkes, you're supposed to be giving me support here!"

"I am! I just thought it'd be easier for me to do it this way."

Hobbes rolled his eyes. By now he'd been able to pinpoint Darien's location due to all the talking, so he surreptitiously stuck out a foot and slipped it between Darien's legs, jerking hard. Darien yelped and pitched forward, the quicksilver falling off his lithe form as he hit the floor. A new wave of whooping, howling, and flash photography ensued as Darien slowly stood to his feet.

"Thanks a lot, Hobbes," Darien grumbled, his face nearly as red as the Speedo he was wearing.

"No problem," Hobbes replied, a self-satisfied grin threatening to spill out on his face. No one got the better of Bobby Hobbes.

The whistles and catcalls finally died down to something lower than a deafening roar, and Hobbes was able to begin making out individual voices. Three in particular caught his attention; those of a group of young ladies in the front row, not even out of their teens. The first two were about 5'3" and had brown hair; the third was a couple of inches taller, with hair that was a lovely shade of red.

"Hey there, handsome! Love the speedo!" the first brunette hollered, waving at Darien and practically drooling.

The second one stared at both Darien and Bobby, her jaw agape. "Dang, you guys are hot!" she yelled, bouncing up and down in her chair from the excitement.

"How about giving us a pose?" the redhead yelled, pulling out a camera and looking up at Hobbes expectantly.

Hobbes and Darien both blushed and began to flex their muscles, which resulted in yet another wave of noise and frantic picture-taking. The girls in front practically swooned. Hobbes was surprised that they hadn't leaped from their seats and onto the stage.

Toward the back of the room, Eberts was sitting hunched down in his seat with one hand covering his eyes, looking completely and utterly mortified. The Official sat at his left, his features contorted into a dangerous-looking scowl. Claire sat beside him, an enigmatic smile on her face. Hobbes gave her a flirtatious wink and then whispered to Darien, "I think we won the bet."

Just then a large group of security guards barreled into the room, skidding to a halt as they stared up in shock at the stage. Hobbes took that as a sign that he had worn out his welcome, and began to dash offstage as fast as his legs would carry him. Darien followed, shaking his head and moaning, "There has gotta be an easier way to make a hundred bucks..."

The End

Ending notes: Thanks to my beta reader, Invision, who helped me a great deal with this (version A had some major plot inconsistencies, if you could consider this story to have a plot that is). And I would like to give a quick shout-out to the two girls who joined me in the front row, who will remain nameless unless they wish it to be otherwise. They know who they are, and if they don't they're in big trouble... ;)