Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or the characters therein. All characters are fictional, and should not be associated with any other person- real or imagined.
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Disregarding Dita's offer of a helping hand, Don walked slowly towards the locker room exit, squinting in order to see the path in front of him.
Dita and the Dawgs followed behind. When they were back in the gym, Dita stopped the boys as Don continued on to the tank. "Look, go ahead to the dance- I think Don and I can handle this- we'll be just fine by ourselves."
"Not so sure about that," Jeff said solemnly as he pointed ahead of them to the dunking booth. Dita and the rest of the Dawgs turned to stare in the direction he indicated, their mouths dropping open at the sight.
Don was feeling his way along the tank, heading for the ladder attached to its side. But his little trip around the tank wasn't what had caught the attention of Jeff- nor was making Dita's breath hitch. It was what the glaring lights of the gym were doing to Don's briefs.
Inside the dimness of the locker room, his boxers had come off as a swimsuit. In the fluorescent lighting, they were not only obviously not a swimsuit- they were less than boxers. As Don turned and waved in their general direction, they realized the flimsy cloth was what the agent had feared- completely see-through now that it was backlit, every last inch of his body clearly visible to the world.
"Oh, my," Dita breathed.
The Dawgs shook their heads. "We betta tell 'im," Miguel said.
"Yeah, he's kinda shy for F.B.I.," Adam observed, "Don't think he's gonna like people eyeing his utilities."
The rest of the Dawgs nodded their heads in agreement.
Just as Joey was about to go over and stop Don from climbing up into the tank, a woman came up beside their group. "Oh, lord," she exclaimed, "How much do you charge to play that?"
The Dawgs turned to the woman, several smart retorts on their lips; but Dita interceded. "Now, boys, go on to the dance- I'll talk to Don." Grudgingly, the boys began to circle around the gym, heading to the exit- but not before giving the woman their best scowls and glares. Nervous, the woman took off for more familiar ground.
Dita thought about the woman's question. Don had dropped into the tank to check out the temperature of the water. The overhead fluoruescents were unable to penetrate into the water, but the tank itself had lights set at intermittent spots up and down the junctions of its four walls, their sharp illumination having the same effect on Don's boxers as the overhead lights when he was standing outside the tank. As he moved about seemingly naked to the human eye, an idea popped into Dita's head. She scanned the gym- the teenagers were leaving to go to the dance, the booths now being manned by their mentors and parents, the only customers left all adults. To her delight, Dita realized most of them were women.
Wonder how many of them are single?
Meanwhile, Don had climbed up out of the tank and was sitting on the bench across its top. He was moving his feet forward and back like a little boy.
He's just too cute, Dita thought. Sorry, boys- she silently apologized to the Dawgs-but I think we've finally got the right bait.
Dita walked past the dunking booth into the main area of the gym, her most inviting smile on her face, a sale's pitch all ready to sell the women on Don. Sidling up to a group of three blonde women, all sporting shirts in support of the basketball team, Dita waited for a pause in their conversation before asking them, "Wanta try the dunking booth- first three balls are free."
Rolling her eyes, one of the women told her, "No, not interested."
"Ah, come on- what could it hurt," Dita said, "When's the last time you got something for free?"
A big-bosomed woman stared at Dita, stuck out her chest and pointedly told the thinner and definitively smaller-stacked secretary, "I get free things all the time."
Unwilling to give up, Dita pleaded, "Oh, come on- can't you give a sister a break." The three women grumbled amongst themselves when it became obvious that Dita was not going to give up. Looking around the gym, they begrudgingly said, "Oh, fine- where is it?"
Dita led them to the dunking booth. None of the women paid attention to Don as they just wanted to humor Dita by throwing the three free balls. Then they would make a quick getaway back to their own little click. After handing the big-bosomed woman three balls, Dita showed her where to stand. But before the woman could throw the first ball, Dita told her to wait; then she positioned herself near the target on the side of the tank and then gave the woman the okay to proceed.
Don smiled down at the blurry images in front of him.
Ole big-bosom threw the balls one after the other half-heartedly. Satisfied she had missed, she and her friends were about to leave when Dita sneakily knocked the target, sending Don down into the warm water beneath.
The movement of Don falling caught the attention of all three blondes, who stopped in their tracks, mouths and eyes opening wide.
The front of the dunking booth was clear acrylic, so they had an unobstructed view of Don as he dropped into the water and rose to the top again, the lights of the tank shining through his boxers and highlighting his muscular physique- his upper body was glistening wet, small droplets of water clinging to his moist hair while rivulets of water were sliding slowly down from his neck and over his shoulders to his chest and arms; his body hair appeared opaque and shiny from the combination of harsh lights and wetness, the yellow glare making his tanned skin a toasty, velvety brown. Two eyes blinked rapidly before crinkling smile lines appeared at their corners, emphasizing his boyish good looks and unselfconscious attitude about himself.
But it was Don's ample assets- barely veiled- that made the three women swoon. Dita came up beside the gaping women. "He works for the F.B.I. - bet he passed his physical this year, huh?"
"That must be a reflection- no way can any man have that much to offer," the big-bosomed woman said in awe. She swallowed before introducing herself to Dita. "I'm Becky," pointing to her friends, she introduced them; "this is Audrey and Katy."
Dita told them her name but before she could say anything else, the women moved around her and stood closer to the tank. Don was heading to the ladder in order to exit. Two strong legs and two strong arms moved back and forth, swishing the water around in the tank, abs tightening as Don reached for the ladder and began to pull himself up, water crawling down his bent back and over his round posterior, his boxers clinging tightly to his skin, the muscle groups in his body rippling as he pushed up and out, sliding back across the repositioned bench.
"Ahhh," the women sighed when Don leaned back with his chest thrust forward.
Shaking themselves from their daze, the women rounded on Dita. "Where'd you put those balls?"
Dita grinned, holding up three more balls. "Right here," she said. Before Becky could take them out of her hand, Dita slyly said, "But these aren't free- these are five dollars each."
Becky, Audrey, and Katy put their hands on their hips, furious. Then they heard the sound of water dripping behind them and they looked back at Don, who was wringing a corner of his boxers out over the water below him. His bent shoulders reflected the overhead light, their dampened and well-defined curvatures too enticing for the three women to resist. Quickly, they started searching their purses.
"I've got twenty- that's four balls."
"Here's another ten- darn it, I spent everything else."
"Nothing, absolutely nothing- you don't take Visa? No? That's just great."
Forming a circle, the women made the fast decision to bring in reinforcements. Dita stood with her back to the gym's dividing curtain and watched as they started to do all the work necessary to get customers for her and Don.
Spreading out, Becky, Audrey, and Katy went from booth to booth, whispering in the ears of any woman willing to listen and pointing towards the unseen corner of the gym. One by one, women made excuses to leave their male companions or coworkers and sneaked back to the dunking booth; once behind the curtain, they started pooling their money together. It wasn't long before every woman in the place was standing impatiently in front of the booth; there was a short delay in putting the play into motion as they had to wait for Dita to count the money and one person was elected to be the ball-thrower.
Her name was Sue and she was the girl's softball coach.
Don continued to sit at the top of the dunking booth, ignorant of all the hustle and bustle occurring around him. His sight was still foggy, but he was able to tell that Dita had been able to get them some customers. A big grin of satisfaction appeared on his face; Don was surprised to hear sighs of contentment coming from the crowd. He wondered briefly what Dita was telling them. Probably some story about helping those less-fortunate than themselves, he thought, that always gets a person's attention.
These thoughts disappeared from his mind when he heard the thunk! of a ball hitting its target and he fell from his perch, enjoying the warm feeling of the water as he dropped into it, smiling broadly when he bobbed to the top and heard loud clapping and cheers from his having been dunked.
The large group of women pressed around the dunking booth, hooting and whistling, elbowing each other and shaking their heads.
"F.B.I.? He can handcuff me anytime!"
"Think he has to register that as a concealed weapon?"
"Don't know, don't care- wouldn't mind if he used it on me either way."
"Think he's had training in how to handle it?"
"Oh, yeah- experience, too-it's clear by the way he moves he's a seasoned agent."
"Man, that's clearly no 22 caliber- I'd say Smith and Wesson."
"No, way, baby- definitely double-barreled shotgun."
"You're both wrong- machine gun."
"Missile."
"Rocket!"
"Uh, huh- whatever it is, bet it's fully cocked and loaded."
Don splashed down into the tank over and over again, each time coming up grinning. He wondered how much money they were taking in. An hour into his turn in the booth, several women noticed the back of the tank was also acrylic and went behind it, wanting a rear view. Their eyebrows raised and they nodded their heads satisfactorily when Don fell in the tank and the pressure raised the back of his shorts, a full moon showing for them that night though the average calendar said it was actually two weeks away. Motioning their friends over, the women began taking turns watching Don from the front and the back, cheering more heartily than ever each time the moon was revealed again.
Don just grinned, noticeably oblivious of his effect on the women panting heavily about him.
"There is absolutely nothing sexier," one woman sighed, "than a man who's hot and doesn't know it."