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.

Author's note: I changed the rating of this chapter to M (mature) for its ending sequence. If you are old enough to read that type of stuff (it's not graphic, but I still feel the need to caution) then please let me know if it is sensual enough. I got two more love scenes coming up (later in one, sooner in another) in my other fanfictions and would like to know if I'm getting it right or if I need to be more descriptive or expressive. Thanks.

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Principal Rooney left the school cafeteria and headed towards the gym. The dance had been disappointing- from his point of view at least. None of the students had acted out at all, which left him with no excuse to punish any of them.

Even the Detention Dawgs had been on their best behavior. They had spent the better part of the evening in a corner gleefully watching the action on the dance floor. It was actually their first dance and they had been happy to just be there. However, when Rooney left the room, they followed him. They didn't trust the man to leave Don alone; he always seemed intent on causing him problems and they were intent on stopping him from doing it.

Rooney entered the funfair expecting to see it overfilled with parents. He frowned when he saw the room was less than half full. It took him several minutes to realize there were no women in sight.

Now where the hell did they all go? he thought. The principal walked down one of the side aisles, unaware that five young men were following him. As Rooney got to the end of the row, he heard the distinct sound of a large group of women expressing intense satisfaction. Anger rose in him when he identified the location of the noise as coming from behind the far curtain- exactly in the spot he had put Detention Don and his worthless Dawgs.

Rooney stomped over to the women. They were joyfully shouting and talking and whistling- but at what, the principal couldn't tell. Pushing his way through the crowd, he made his way to the front and stopped cold. There, in front of him, in all his glory, was his nemesis, Don Eppes. Rooney couldn't believe the man had the nerve to be practically naked in his school- it was downright scandalous.

A smile streaked across Rooney's face.

He turned abruptly and headed back to the dance. The superintendent was in attendance and what better person to see how unfit Don Eppes was to be a mentor to five young boys.

The Detention Dawgs watched Rooney practically run from the gym.

"Think he's up to somethin'?" Joey asked.

"Yeah, gotta be." Miguel answered. "But what?"

"Looks like he saw something he didn't like at our booth- I think we should go warn Don and Dita," Jeff told them.

The boys started to hustle towards the back of the gym. Dita saw them coming. Standing in front of the dunking booth, she gathered enough courage to tell the angry women that they had spent all of their money and the booth needed to close. When protesting voices began to rise in volume, Dita shouted, "We got company!" She pointed to the group of boys headed their way.

The women immediately understood. They began to disperse, gossiping quietly amongst themselves, solemnly promising each other and Dita that their little escapade would remain a secret, one after the other of single females stopping to give Dita a slip of paper- "Do you mind giving this to him?" before they headed back to their own booths.

"I'll take care of it," Dita promised each woman. When all of the women had gone back to the main part of the gym, she took great care in ripping up each phone number and dropping it in the trash.

"Hey," Don yelled down at her. He continued to sit in the tank, rubbing his eyes. "I think I'm getting back my sight."

Talk about great timing, Dita thought, relieved. She stepped behind the tank and flicked a switch, shutting off the lights inside it.

As she came round to the front of it again, the Dawgs appeared in front of her. Jeff crossed his arms and asked, "What's Don doing up there in his boxers? I thought you were going to tell him he had to find something else to wear."

Hating to be deceptive with the boys but feeling it was necessary, Dita told them, "The overhead lights don't penetrate into the water and with the tank lights off, Don does look like he's wearing a swimsuit. Watch- you won't see a thing." Keeping her fingers crossed that she was correct, Dita pressed the target. Don fell into the water- and thankfully nothing could be seen. Don climbed back to his previous position, unable to hear the conversation between Dita and the boys.

"Sorry," the boys said shamefully, "we thought maybe you took advantage of him." Seeing the wad of cash sticking out of Dita's purse, they asked in amazement, "Is that money from our booth?"

"Every last penny!" Dita told them proudly. Before she could explain, though, an obnoxious voice interrupted her.

"Right over here," Principal Rooney led the superintendent of schools to the Dawgs' booth. Both men stopped in front of the tank. Don waved down at them merrily, agitating Rooney; Don had been nice to him for the past two weeks and it was aggravating the principal because he knew the reason why. It was apparent to him that Don hadn't wanted to give him an excuse to kick the Dawgs out of the fun-fair. It angered the principal to no end that Don's polite attitude had worked- Rooney had found no reason to disqualify them from the competition. At least, not until now.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Rooney told the principal, "This innocent-looking dunking machine has actually been a scene of debauchery tonight. When you hit the target, that man up there, Special Agent Don Eppes, drops into the water and, to all intents and purposes, appears to be naked. Absolutely a disgusting spectacle for a high school fun-fair, especially when he is supposed to be a role model for these five, fine young men." Rooney waved an arm elegantly towards the Dawgs, who were standing at a distance from the two school administrators and were unable to make out Rooney's words; still, they made faces at the principal when he gestured in their direction. Rooney coughed into a hand to keep from responding and then turned his attention back to the superintendent.

"Well, now, we'll just see about that," the superintendent said seriously. He asked Dita to push the target, which she did. Don fell into the water and-

"Wait a minute!" Rooney yelled. "Something's wrong here!"

"Nothing looks wrong to me," the superintendent told him coldly. "A typical dunking booth with a man in swim trunks- there is nothing disgusting about that."

Rooney stormed closer to the tank, but nothing again. The Dawgs began quietly talking amongst themselves as the principal began taking giant steps backwards, stopped, stared at Don, then took more steps back- repeating the movement every few feet, unaware that every woman in the gym was watching his behavior from the corners of their eyes.

While Rooney was thus occupied, Miguel snuck to the Spanish Club booth and slipped behind the sheet hiding the workers. Rooney stepped back further and further, desperate to see what he was sure he had earlier; he did not notice Miguel take a hook and line that led to a fishing rod held by a twelve-year-old boy and carry it towards the end of the booth, waiting for the principal, the Spanish Club mentor purposely ignoring what Miguel was about to do; she had personally donated over fifty dollars to the dunking booth and didn't want the sexy man in the tank to get into trouble. When Rooney took a last step back towards the booth, unable to go further, Miguel hooked the principal's rug, making sure it was thoroughly stuck.

The superintendent walked over to Rooney and stood next to him, staring at Don as he climbed up the inside ladder of the dunking booth. "Rooney, I don't care how close or far away you get- there's nothing to see."

Embarrassed and overwhelmed with anger, Rooney clenched his fists and spun on his heels, stomping several feet from his superior before he felt a hard tug at his head-

and then his rug was torn roughly away.

Rooney stopped, reaching two hands up over his bald palate and patting it, refusing to believe it was gone. It was soon impossible for him to deny, as every woman in the gym began to laugh at him, their loud guffaws following him as he ran from the gym- the superintendent chuckling as he made his way down through the fun-fair; man, he thought, that guy is such an ass.

Don climbed up to the top of the dunking booth. He leaned over the edge and, having seen Rooney's little performance, asked Dita, "What was that all about?"

Guiltily, Dita pressed up close enough to the tank for Don to hear what she had to say, whispering so the Dawgs wouldn't. "I'm real sorry, Don- but your boxers. Well, they're kind of transparent when the lights are on in the tank."

A look of horror appeared on Don's face. He gulped several times before asking, "You mean, every time I got dunked everybody could see- uh, everything?"

Dita nodded. Don's face lost all of its color. "Who-who saw me?"

"Just a bunch of women- no teenagers, not even the Dawgs- I swear." Dita felt a little better when some relief appeared on Don's face. "Look, we made a ton of money and the Dawg's don't know the real reason why we did. At this point, you can tell them anything that will make them feel good about themselves. Just take a look at how happy they are."

Don cast a glance over at the boys. They were now all standing near Dita's purse, carefully putting the money into order and counting it, proud smiles on their faces. Dita was right, Don decided. It would be better to let the boys believe their banner and parents' interest in supporting the club were the reasons they had made so much money, not because he had unknowingly given a…a…Don sighed. A peep show was the only way to describe it.

"Okay, tell them people came by all night impressed with their banner and wanted to contribute to the club so they could become law enforcement officers, help keep them on the right track- blah, blah, blah."

"Thanks, Don. I'm glad you're not mad about this."

Don pursed his lips. Right in front of him was the woman responsible for his unwitting public display- and she was shrugging it off like it was no big deal. It was apparent he was going to have to let her know how he really felt about the whole situation- but only after the Dawgs had gone away.

"Can you get me a towel?" Don asked. Dita hurried into the boys' locker room and returned with one. Don took it and swung it around his neck, then climbed back onto the dunking booth bench.

Dita stared at him confused. "Don, you can come down now. Everybody is packing up and leaving."

"No way," he told her. "Not until there is no other living soul in this joint. I'm not about to let anybody else see me naked."

Dita tried to coax him down, but it was to no avail. The Dawgs finished counting the money, put it back in Dita's purse and gave her a final tally. Figuring she owed Don a little dignity, she offered to take the boys home so he could get dress as he requested- completely alone. The Dawgs waved good-bye to Don and followed Dita, passing through a speedily emptying gym and out to her car. An hour later, she returned to the school, just making it back as the janitor was locking up the last of the doors, explaining to him she had left something she had to get that night, hoping Don hadn't decided he was angry at her stunt after all and taken off.

"Look," the janitor told Dita as he handed her a key, "this is a master- don't lose it. I'm going to lock the front door and set the alarm- when you're finished, head out through the cafeteria door near the north side and you won't set it off. Rooney was too cheap to fix the wire leading to that particular door."

Dita thanked him and made her way down to the gym. The main lights were turned off. She had to make her way by a trail of sublights set along the floor of the gym, almost tripping over several cables before reaching the far corner. Someone had turned the dunking booth's lights on again, their beams sending rippling sections of luminescence rocking back and forth throught the interior of the tank, the main color of the water now a dark shade of turquoise in the almost pitch-black room.

To Dita's relief, Don was still there. Only, she couldn't figure out why he was sitting on the bench at the top of the dunking booth.

"Hey," she shouted, "why didn't you change into your clothes when everybody cleared out?"

Don tugged on his boxers. "I'm caught. I can't twist around and reach where the fabric is stuck."

"Hold on," Dita told him. She put aside her purse and went to the tank, climbing up the ladder on its side. Standing on the top rung, she leaned forward. "Where are you caught?"

Don pointed over and behind his left hip.

Dita tried to reach across to him, but her arms weren't long enough. Hiking up her thick, long skirt with one hand, she held the back of the booth with the other, swinging over one leg at a time and plopping down hard onto the bench besides Don, both of them barely able to fit. After pushing her glasses up, Dita squeezed her body against Don, her left arm behind his back. "Well, now let me see if I can release you from your position on this bench."

Don grinned wickedly. "No, let me see if I can release you from your position on this bench." That was when Dita noticed his left hand was strongly gripping both ends of the towel she'd given him. Her eyes followed the doubled-over towel's ends from Don's hand to where he had wrapped it around the dunking booth target, sudden realization of what he planned making her mouth open wide to protest- but much too late, the words unable to come before Don gave the towel a hard pull.

Dita squealed as the bench released, wrapping her arms around Don as they fell into the water below. When they sank to the bottom, she released him and pushed up, sputtering obscenities as her bulky sweaters and skirt tangled around her and weighed her down.

"I…can….not… believe…you…did….that…" she gasped, trying to move in the water but finding it close to impossible within the heaviness of her clothes.

"That's what I was thinking when I found out you sold my body tonight," Don told her.

"I didn't sell your body," Dita protested, "I just allowed some very nice women to do a little window shopping."

Dita tried to push the hair from her face, but found even the slightest movement difficult. Don, still only in his boxers, easily flowed through the water to press against Dita, the pressure of his body pushing up against hers slowly but steadily forcing her into a corner of the tank.

Once there, Dita stared up at him, her hair a wet mess and her glasses barely sitting on the tip of her nose. Don gently took them off and tossed them out over the edge of the tank.

"Hey," Dita complained, "I need those."

Don placed his lips against her ear. "Not for what we're going to do," he hissed, his tongue flickering along the ridge of her ear and down to its lobe to briefly suck, his body flat against hers.

Dita's heart started pounding. "I, uh, we can't- this is the school, kids go here, we… no, someone will…"

Ignoring her protests, Don deliberately unbuttoned her outer sweater and tenderly began to undress her, placing soft kisses along her cheek and down her neck- then on every inch of skin as it was revealed. A torrid fever flushed through Dita's body when she felt the strokes of Don's calloused fingertips, shivering in anticipation more urgently with each layer of clothing that he peeled from her body, the warmth of his breath and the soft, fiery touch of his lips against her skin overlapping the soothing warmth of the water surrounding them.

Once he had finished with Dita's clothing, Don took off his boxers. He returned to Dita, both of them completely naked. Self-conscious of her previous bragging that there was more to her than met the eye and knowing that there was actually less, Dita apologized to Don for misleading him.

Cupping his right hand around one small bottom cheek and his other around a tiny breast, Don peered at her through half-closed eyes. "I'm not greedy," he said in a husky voice, "a couple handfuls are all a man really needs to be satisfied."

Dita melted into him. As Don's hands, lips and body continued to do things to her she had never experienced at such an intense level before, she tried but seemed to be failing to keep up. "I can't see," she whispered to him as explanation.

"Do a Grease, Dita," he told her between quick nips on her earlobe.

"A grease?" she moaned in confusion.

"Mmm, hmmm," he murmured against her throat, the vibrations sending pleasure signals to every part of her body as he explained-

"Feel your way."